The armoury was right next to the training grounds, situated in the same structure as the imperial guard’s barracks. In an ordinary day, the training grounds would be rather crowded, but this was far from an ordinary day. The only people they saw were the on-duty guards, and a few rather winded looking people sitting in the courtyard, watching the starry sky.

  Midhir led Arwen through the courtyard, nodded at the soldiers as they passed by, then went back inside through the doors on the other side of it. The well-lit hallway split in two, the left side leading to the barracks, and the right to the armoury.

  His steps slowed down as he led her towards the armoury. Arwen seemed quite alright, all things considered. She seemed just as curious about the Vermillion Keep as ever. “Are you alright?” He still asked.

  Arwen raised her eyebrows. “I am. Why?” She tilted her head slightly.

  “Well…” he mumbled, pushing the door to the armoury open. He stepped aside to let her pass before following her inside and letting the heavy door close behind them.

  The armoury was made of three parts. The entrance had a small bench to sit on, a counter in front of the door leading to the other sections, and a rather large stack of notebooks piled on a table leaning against the wall. Lit by torchlight, the air smelled of smoke, metal and oil.

  “It’s been a difficult day for you too,” he let out a sigh before making his hands into a fist and loudly knocking on the wooden door leading to the other sections. “After Circe took me to the border… what happened exactly?”

  A faint smile flashed across Arwen’s lips. “It was a bit awkward, to be honest. Her Majesty ordered Willow to check on Lord Aulorn…” She let her voice trail off as the door creaked open, and a man stepped out.

  “If it isn’t the young prince!” He exclaimed, his round and somewhat red face lighting up with a cheerful smile. “A sight for sore eyes, I say! What can I do for you, Lord?” He let the door close behind him and limped over to the counter. He leaned his well-rounded belly against it and let out a winded breath.

  “It’s good to see you too, Gerart.” Midhir smiled, though he couldn’t help but glance down. “Your leg, it’s not healed yet?”

  The quartermaster chuckled and shook his head. “I suppose it will take a while,” he said cheerfully as he rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a handkerchief. “What brings you here, lord?” He asked, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

  “My friend here needs a crystal staff, and I’m in need of a better blade myself.” He pointed at Arwen.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Gerart’s eyebrows raised. “A crystal staff, huh?” His gaze turned towards Arwen. “We have a few of those just sitting in the back, collecting dust.” He stepped back towards the door with a grunt and a wince.

  “You needn’t bring them here, friend.” He probably shouldn’t even be standing with that injured knee of his. It wouldn’t do to make the man carry a bunch of weapons across the armoury. “Tell me which section they’re in, then take some time to rest, will you?”

  Gerart’s face lit up. “I wish I was in better health to serve you, your highness.” He leaned against the counter again. “The staves are in section three. Since no one really uses them, they’re in the boxes lined by the back wall.” He pulled a stool from under the counter and carefully sat down, rubbing his right knee gently.

  “Thanks, friend.”

  The second section of the armoury was a well-kept storage room. Weapon and armour racks line the walls, while there was a mending station in the middle of the large chamber. Shadows danced on the walls as they closed the door behind them. The wind had disturbed the torches and candles, causing their flames to dance awkwardly for a few short moments.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many swords in one place…” Arwen muttered, her eyes wide with amazement.

  “There’s only the standard equipment of the imperial army here.” He explained as he walked past them all, to the door in the back of this section. “Good weapons and armour, made to strict standards. Usually swords, spears and halberds, and occasionally daggers.” The imperial guard was thoroughly trained in each of those weapons before each soldier picked which one they felt the most comfortable with. Armour was later given according to the weapons they chose.

  “The staves should be here…” he added as he opened the door. A loud creak sounded as the door turned on its rusty hinges, revealing the large, but dimly lit chamber that was section three.

  Unlike the previous section, this one was only lit by two lanterns on the two walls to his left and right. Boxes and crates were piled on top of each other, creating small piles around the chamber. Most of these were weapons and armour donated to the imperial army, either by nobility or by blacksmiths and merchants seeking goodwill. Some, however, were the spoils of exploration and expedition. Unique, yet not particularly usable weapons that were stored here in hopes that one day they would prove useful.

  Midhir walked past the piles of crates and boxes to the back wall, where some long, yet narrow boxes were stacked against the wall. “I think these are the staves.” He picked up one of them and carried it over to a waist-high crate at the middle of the room. “Open it, I’ll bring the others.”

  They opened the boxes one by one, revealing dozens of staves of different shapes and sizes. Some were nearly two meters tall, embedded with a myriad of crystals while others were only as long as his forearm, housing singular, small crystals.

  Each box they opened seemed to fascinate Arwen further. Her sparkling eyes growing wider with each unique staff she inspected. “These are beautiful…” she whispered, picking each one up, caressing them and running her fingertips across the crystal augments. “Some of them are so powerful, I can’t even imagine how it would feel to use them.”

  “Take your time,” he said with a faint smile. “If you want to use them, we can take a few of them to the courtyard to try them out.” Surely the resting guardsmen would enjoy the spectacle a skilled crystal staff user could create too.

  Arwen’s lips parted. “Really?” She asked, beaming with excitement. “Can I really try them out?”

  “Of course.”