Mother was eager for the new mission.Which meant it was dangerous.Those were always her favorites, for some reason.Even though she came home burdened with darkness, stress lining her eyes and new scars covering her skin.
Twenty-three days.That was how long it had taken before she smiled for real after the last mission like this one.He wasn’t sure how he knew this one would be similar, but he felt it.
“Why does she prefer the more dangerous missions?”Connor asked quietly.
Father got that sparkling look in his eye that he had when he talked about his mate, his voice deepening.“Your mother is magnificent.Fierce and unstoppable when she’s focused on something.The more challenging, the better.She thrives being out in front, leading our warriors through danger.”
“Don’t you worry about her?”
“Of course.I love her more than life itself, so I worry all the time.But this is what she’s called to do.What she was made for.That calling is more important than my comfort.So, I do what I can and love her as much as possible while I have her.”
That made sense but didn’t help him at all.The worry still tumbled and prowled inside him, like an angry ice leopard clawing at his heart.Trying not to look at the battle-ready armor at his father’s feet, he looked at the odd shimmers coming from the piece in his hand.
“What’s that one?If it’s not hers?”
“A very rare piece of history.”
Father loved history, so Connor was surprised when he didn’t continue the story.He could talk about such things for hours and frequently did with Ryan’s parents, who were both historians.
“Why do you have it?”he prompted.And why had he never seen it before?
“The warrior who wore it last died protecting something special a long time ago.He gave it to a loyal friend—one of our ancestors.Who took it and vowed to keep it safe so that, someday, it could be remembered.It exists only because that person chose to protect it.”His father finally looked up at him.“You know, not all warriors are like your mother.”
Connor frowned.“What do you mean?”
“Some warriors, like your mother, actively protect us from danger.They go out and find it before it can find us.Lead great attacks when needed and are always ready to run headfirst into danger.But they’re not the only type.Some warriors guard and protect us, stand as a wall between us and danger.Shield us from harm that sneaks through the other defenses.”
“Like our guards at the keep,” Connor agreed.
“Your mother, bless her, would never be able to stand still long enough to be a guard.She’d much rather be running towards a threat.”
Connor smiled, his spirit lightened by his father’s amused tone.
“But you… your magic is an actual living shield, Connor.Hiding things to keep them safe.It’s natural for you.”
That was true.He was learning to stay still for long periods of hiding.His magic liked to cloak him.Even more when he pulled it around a second person, which he’d been practicing with Ryan’s help.
“Mother says I’ll take her sword someday.”Didn’t that mean he’d be a warrior like she was?Leading a Lightning Team?
A glimmer of something passed through his father’s eyes as he nodded solemnly.“It’s a big sword.”
“I’m not like her though.”Connor admitted his fear that he wasn’t capable of following in her footsteps.
“No, you’re not.But the world needs all kinds of warriors, Connor.It especially needs those who can stand still and strong against all the elements of destruction.Who can shield not just our people but our magic.Our history.”
Father held the piece of armor closer to the fire and twisted it so that it glittered in the orange light.It looked like magic rocks that had been crushed, embedded into the shadows of the leather.It didn’t look like it would stop a blade or arrow, but something about the shimmer made Connor think it was stronger than it appeared.
“This warrior sacrificed himself to protect our heritage.His life, his purpose, was just as valuable as what your mother does.”
That was an interesting idea to think about.Connor’s magic churned inside him, responding to the thought of a living shield.That held promise.
“You’ll find your way, Connor.But not unless you get some sleep.”His father’s raised brow had him getting up to go back to his room.
He paused to look back at the odd piece of armor in his father’s hand.“What was his name?That warrior?”
His father smiled at him.“Gedeon.He was one of the protectors of Moriah.”
Connor tunneled his hand through his hair as he came back to the present.It couldn’t actually be similar, could it?He hadn’t thought of the sparkling, ancient piece of armor since he was a child.It had faded into the depths of his memory.
