The Auric Insignia by Perry Horste Read Free Book Online Page B

emphatic embrace touched him, absorbing the vibrations from his broken state, nullifying them. A scent filled his nose, a sweet but earthy tone that calmed his fractured composure. Korri, a being capable of such speed, strength and ferocity, had her arms around him. She grounded him in the now, keeping him from drowning in his own thoughts.
         - You’re a good person.
         He gave no reply as she continued.
         - I’ve been unfair to you. I know all of this is crazy and I’m sorry that you got dragged into this. You were there when I needed help, you saved me. I know this is probably new and frightening, and I know you never asked for any of this. I know you feel bad for what happened at the smithy, so do I. I know you probably feel like a bad person and that everything sucks right about now.
         She took his face in her hands. Hands capable of such power, moving so gently.
         - Hey.
         He opened his eyes to meet hers.
         - Sometimes you have to do things that are uncomfortable, bad even. However that is not who you are, an evil being does not feel bad, feel remorse. An evil being doesn’t question its morality, but you do.
         - How can you be so sure?
         - I know, I see it in your eyes. You saved my life and helped me when I needed it. You’ve reminded me that humans are capable of kindness, so let me help you. Talk to me.
         - I’m... I’m scared and I hate it.
         - Well I’m scared too, me, the monster from the woods!
         Her smile warmed him and Roarke could feel his chest grow lighter.
         - And you know what? That’s okay. So let’s be scared together.
     
    ***
     
     

Well that’s the thing, isn’t it?
     
    The hearth licked his face with tongues of fire. With every pump of the billow, the fiery demon gained in strength, growing until it was strong enough to bend steel to his will. His body was used to the heat, his skin like thick hide, worn tough over many years of backbreaking work. The fervid air, filled with smoke, forced his body to make shallow breaths, making his work cumbersome in the best of cases. Coupled with his bruised throat, it had resulted in less work done. Since he had gotten his injuries that frightful night, some of the more curious customers had asked him what had happened. To which he had answered that he had slipped and hit himself one night whilst visiting the outhouse.
         This had been received with ridicule and questions concerning if he could hold his liquor or not. This was better though, than the reception he would have surely received, had he told the truth. Better to be viewed as a clumsy drunk than as unhinged, he thought. Once again he felt his body straining and so he reluctantly decided to take a breather. He put down his hammer, untied his leather apron, hanging it where he always did, by the hook right next to the door going back to the house. As he opened the door, a wall of cool air greeted him, granting respite.
         - Jennifer! Bring me a glass of water or something, will ya!?
         He wiped the sweat and sot from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt.
         - Jenny? Have you gone out?
         - Taking a break again? That’s no way to run a business...
         Brock froze, he recognized the voice but it was not the soft voice of his Jenny. If this voice had had a body, it would have been made out of ice, hard and cold.
         - Oh, hi Marielle, you startled me.
         Marielle was sitting by the table, her black dog sitting beside her.
         - My apologies, Brock, that was not my intention. Please, join me.
         He looked around the room before taking the seat across from his guest, failing to see his wife anywhere.
         - Have you seen Jenny around?
         - Forgive me, she asked to tell you she loves you, and that you will be reunited shortly.
         - Oh, great, heh, out for an errand I suppose.
         Where earlier he had