Originally Posted by
redford
John turned back to the bar as Logan departed for the food. He tipped his glass back, feeling the warm spice of the cider flow down his throat into his chest and stomach, warming him all the way down. Though the cup may have been normal sized, John drained it in one gulp, and slid it across, tapping on the bar as Anvil spoke to the boy beside them. A sword was on his hip. Though more than that, John noticed something odd, though he could not place it until he'd stared for a moment.
The boy's armor was clean. He wore good leather, but it was spotless. No scratches or scuffs that he could see. He was also small, and not just because John was large. The boy had bright, determined eyes that lacked the weariness of battle experience. John saw himself for a moment in the boy.
As Anvil placed another cider on the bar for John, he clapped Anvil's shoulder, making sure to use the proper amount of force.
"Ah, the boy'll be fine, master dwarf!" he exclaimed, turning to Aelin. Hawl reached down and set her cup on the bar.
"If you came here for mystery, friend," John said, holding up a hand. Out of his closed fist grew a long knife, sharpened with a tanto point. John focused on his armor, and engravings appeared on the blade. Just as quickly, it shimmered into liquid and returned to John's armor, covering his entire torso. He continued to the boy, smiling. "Then you came to the right place."