ELIA
Reth stared down at the table for a moment. Everyone was quiet. "If that's all," he said finally, his voice deep and dark, and far too quiet. "Then all that is left is for our Guardians to make their vows."
Candace and Gahrye both nodded. Elia sat back in her chair, wondering what intricate, Anima tradition this would be. These people had so much about them that was ancient and intriguing.
Shit. She was going to miss this place almost as much as she was going to miss Reth.
"Do you have blades?" Reth asked in that rumble she loved. Then she blinked. Blades?
"What do you—"
"Yes," Gahrye and Candace both said, each reaching in their robes. Gahrye revealed a wicked knife that made Elia's mouth drop open. Why was he carrying that? Candace flicked out a much smaller knife that looked more like a tool. But the blade gleamed as she put it on the table in front of her.
Reth nodded. "You know the tradition?"
