Ekleipsis by Pordlaw LaRue

prize.
    Kayla laid down the daisy, which was
missing a few petals, to look inside the pouch. She pulled out an
arrow head to examine it, “These are very well made Vandor. Your
grandfather always does such good work. He needn’t have made me so
many.”
    “He said that if you should ever need
more, be sure to tell him,” Vandor explained.
    “I am very grateful Vandor. I shall
make sure to tell him such at his return to Nesal,” she gleefully
responded.
    “He will be delighted to know that,”
he acknowledged.
    Seeing the flicker of light against
his new blade, Kayla asked, “Vandor, is that new?” while she
pointed to his sword.
    “Yes, grandfather gave it to me before
his departure to Trachten this morning, as with this sheath and
your arrow heads.”
    She reached out, “May I see
it?”
    Vandor was delighted she asked and was
proud to let her hold it.
    “This is a most fabulous creation V,
maybe even his best work,” Kayla declared with eyes wide open,
examining every inch of the blade, moving it left and right by
turning her wrist.
    “I did tell him as much when he gave
it,” agreed Vandor.

    Shifting her eyes from the
sword to Vandor she asked, “What of you Vandor? Have you also
brought me a gift?”
    Unsure as how to reply – as
he had intended to give her the ring, yet had chosen otherwise;
therefore already in an uncomfortable moment – he smartly said, “Is
my presence not enough?”
    She grinned, “Indeed Vandor, I very
much appreciate your presence.”
    Delighted and shocked,
expecting a sly remark, he felt his cheeks redden a little, “And I
yours’ Kayla.”
     
    “Vandor, what shall we do
in coming years,” she asked intently, looking down at the daisy she
once held, missing the petals.
    “What do you mean Kayla?”
    “I mean we have been friends forever
it seems. Do you think life will lead us down different paths?” she
questioned, again as she faced him.
     
    The conversation had turned more
serious and Vandor felt somewhat awkward, “I…” His mind was full of
things to say and ponder, but could he share them? “I hope not
Kayla.”
    Silenced for a moment, “Why
Vandor?” she asked intently, as if trying to pry something from his
very heart.
    His mind clouded over, as
if suffocating. Then, by itself, his first thought forced itself
free from his lips, “What would I do without you and Rayhold to pal
with?”
    Her eyes looked downward,
somewhat disappointed, “Yes, we are a fancy trio, aren’t
we?”
     
    Vandor tried to shift the
conversation, “I would like to be named among the Sealed, to be one
of the King’s army.”
    Kayla’s eyes again looked
upward, plucking another petal from the daisy, “I myself have
thought as much.”
    “While growing up, we have always said
that would be our dream. To join the Sealed and fight the army of
Darkness,” Vandor explained.
    “Yes Vandor,” she replied,
“but sometimes things we say as children are simply childish
imaginations which have no meaning.”
    Somewhat confused, not
knowing what she meant, he asked, “What do you mean
Kayla?”
     
    She looked at him with her
gentle green eyes. He was drawn in by her delicate face and the
glow of sunlight through her auburn hair. He watched her soft lips
as if in slow motion, “You once told me that you loved me when we
were younger, Vandor.” A breath, as she pulled the last petal from
the daisy she held, “Do you feel as such for me now that we are
older?”
    His palms began to sweat, as his mind
was too garbled to speak. Was this not what he wanted to know
himself? Did she feel the same for him, or had he just been too
obvious? Was there a right or wrong answer? Was this the right
time, the only time? What if he just let it pass by, would there be
a tomorrow that was better?
    “I…” He reached into his
pocket, looking toward his hand, and pulled out the ring. For a
moment he stared at it, and then extended his hand to Kayla. “I
made this for you.”
     
    Dropping the