Fennrin is a shadowforger, a type of az-ari who have mastery over shadows. But all it's ever brought him is misery. People are afraid of the power that he himself barely understands, seeing his shadows as omens of bad luck and death.
Forced to bare...
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The battle was over. They'd returned to Kyr-Toryl yesterday evening. And yet Fennrin was still reeling a little. It was as though his body was still expecting a new battle to break out, and he found it difficult to stay still and relaxed, especially not when it turned out Ainreth had gotten cut by Yarima's throwing knives more seriously than he'd let on, so now he was resting in bed, though only because Fennrin had nagged him into it.
He hadn't wanted to leave Ainreth's side, feeling like he had to keep an eye on him at all times right now, especially because Yarima had escaped and she'd proven she could get to the palace before.
But Daryan had wanted to talk to Fennrin personally, and it would be very unwise to deny him that. After all, Fennrin was forever indebted to him for taking a chance on him. Who knew if Ainreth's influence alone would have been enough to secure Fennrin a place here?
He was this time directed to go to Daryan's study, a place he had not been to before, but whatever he'd been expecting wasn't what he found when he, after knocking and being told to come in, took in the room. He'd imagined many bookshelves, maps, letters, and correspondence in general, perhaps pages of speeches, and while that did feature as well, his attention was mostly drawn to the many potted plants covering every available surface, half the room bathed in the sunlight coming in from the window, the other in darkness, presumably due to the needs of the various plants.
They hung from bookshelves and Daryan's desk, a variety of colors, shapes, and species. Was this how every sproutkeeper was? It truly made Fennrin wonder if Petre had their home filled with potted mushrooms. Assuming it was possible to grow mushrooms like that, but if anyone could, a sproutkeeper certainly could.
"Ah, Fennrin," the Herald said, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk, which was surprisingly organized given the state of the rest of the room. Though a plant with purple blossoms and delicate leaves was sat in one corner of the desk.
Fennrin sat down in the chair, focusing on Daryan, knowing that this had to be important, and that he shouldn't be gawking at plants.
"I won't take up too much of your time, not to worry," Daryan continued, which made Fennrin want to assure him that wasn't what he had been thinking, but the man continued before he could. "I wanted to congratulate you on your wonderful contributions at the border."
Fennrin almost snorted then, thankfully able to stop himself just in time. Calling killing others to protect his country contributions was certainly one way to put it. Though he didn't regret having to kill those soldiers. It had been the only way to drive Orinovo back. In hindsight, he was very relieved that the kapetan had decided to retreat. It could have easily ended with them having to kill every single Orinovan soldier, otherwise.
He wanted to argue that Ainreth had done most of the work, but he stayed silent, simply nodding and taking the compliment. It was probably better than trying to be humble and making things potentially awkward.
