[This post is from Cameron’s point of view.]
Neve closed her eyes and sighed softly, then glanced up toward him with a faint smile. “What about a story about the sword?” she asked, her voice quiet, almost curious.
A slight chill crept down his spine and his stomach did a little somersault at the suggestion. He met her gaze with a slightly furrowed brow. “What kind of story?”
She thought about it for a moment, then her smile grew by a fraction. “What about how it was made?”
His breath caught and he smiled back at her. “I think that would be an excellent story,” Cameron whispered, leaning his head against hers. Neve grinned back and nodded slightly.
“Okay. So, the sword—it wasn’t made for him.” Her voice was quiet, the cadence changing slightly, shifting toward the tones of a long-experienced bard. Even that sent a chill down his spine, excitement setting his nerves jangling. His arm tightened slightly around her.
She shook her head slightly. “No. It was just made. We didn’t know who would hold it, we just knew that it needed to be made—the forging needed to happen. Metal that beautiful needed to be forged into something beautiful.” A wistful smile curved her lips. “The story goes that my mother and her brothers and sisters found the stone while they were swimming one day. The river had changed somehow—there was a new pool to one side of it that was strange and hadn’t been there before. There had been a storm without rain a few nights before and so when they went to see the pool they thought perhaps something had happened in that storm to create the new pool and I suppose they were right. They found the stone there at the bottom, shining in the water like silver.”
“But it wasn’t silver,” Cameron said softly, half in awe. “It was something else.”
Neve nodded, smiling. “Something magical—even to us. Even after all these years, I still stare in wonder at that blade, Cam, and I had a hand in its forging. It truly is a fated blade, a real magic sword, though not in any of the ways people seem to think.”