was watching from the window. You're very good."
Randell bowed. "But there's more. Watch." He took a defensive stance and prepare d for blocking drills.
Slowly and gently, Daen delivered various attacks as Randell practiced his blocks. Gradually, Daen picked up speed, but not force, challenging Randell to think faster on his feet. Then, in a language Mary and Caille had never heard, Daen asked Randell where they were standing and Randell replied in the same language.
Caille glanced at Ander. "What was that?"
"It's Aduraun. I think Daen ask ed something about the yard." Ander shrugged. "They do language drills, challenging each other. As you can hear, Daen is doing quite well with his English, as is Randell with Aduraun."
Mary stepped closer. "Of course he is. Randell is an exceptionally bright boy."
Ander nodded as they continued to watch Randell show off his new skills.
Caille focused on Daen, studying him.
Ander noticed. "What do you see?"
"Honesty. Integrity. Kindness. Pain."
Ander nodded . "He misses his home."
They stood silently for a moment, before Ander added, "When Daen first arrived, I had no intention of allowing him to stay , but from what I can see, and from what Randell sees, I think we can trust him. And he's good for Randell."
Caille nodded.
~~~
Later, while Randell was enjoying the tales of his grandparents' European adventures, Caille changed the subject and asked Randell how serious he was about learning to sword fight.
"Very! I asked for my own sword for Christmas."
Daen's brows scrunched together. "You what? What is ... Christmas?"
Randell explained the holiday to Daen.
"Ah. So ... there are sword makers in this world?"
Ander shook his head. "I don't know. I suspect the swords we can buy are ornamental, not for fighting."
Daen asked, "Would you consider having one made, under my ... how to say it ... eye?"
Ander raised a brow. "You mean you would supervise the sword -making process?"
Daen looked puzzled. "Supervise?"
Ander added, "Manage. Oversee."
"Then yes. I would supervise."
"Yes! Please, Dad. Please." Randell sat at the edge of his seat, glancing between Ander and Pam, his eyes wide, pleading for his parents' approval.
Pam and Ander had already had a similar discussion and had agreed to ask Daen for his input. Now , with this offer, it seemed reasonable to grant Randell's wish. They exchanged a look of silent agreement.
Pam said, "We will support you getting a real sword made , but ... it has to be done right. I doubt we'll find someone locally, so you will need to do some research at the library, see where there are sword makers, and work with Daen to find out if their methods are appropriate."
Randell threw his hands in the air as he jumped up and shouted, "Yes! Thank you!"
Caille added, "You'll need some type of protective gear. We will pay for that. Just let me know what you need."
Randell looked to Daen for confirmation and Daen nodded. "Thanks , Grandpa and Grandma."
All this talk about sword fighting made Mary realize that the man sitting in front of them really was different. "So ... let me get this straight ," she said. "In the world you come from ... sword fighting is a normal way of life?" She couldn't believe she was asking such an absurd question, acting as if the other world was real. But she was trying.
Daen nodded. "For some."
Mary continued, "And why are you here, exactly?"
Ander realized they hadn't filled his mother in on why he had asked about Raisal.
Before Ander could explain, Daen said, "I have been sent here to help a woman. Unfortunately, I don't know who that is or what kind of help is needed. I assumed, since I was sent to Raisal's home, that she was the one I was to help. But since she's been gone for over thirty years, I'm not sure who I am to help."
Mary asked, "Does that mean you'll be returning to your world , then?"
Daen shook his head. "No. I admit I ’ve tried, but the shadows won't let me through."
Mary looked confused.