Aiden and Bernard eventually arrived Garant's store and stepped inside.
Standing near the anvil, hammer in hand, was that massive figure Aiden recognized instantly.
Alaric.
The big man was mid-swing when he noticed them. He paused, lowering his hammer, and squinted through the dim light.
Then his face broke into a wide grin.
"Posh lad!" Alaric's voice boomed. "By the gods, look at ye! Come here, lad!"
Before Aiden could respond, Alaric crossed the distance in three long strides and grabbed him up in a bone-crushing hug, lifting him clean off the ground.
Aiden let out a surprised laugh, his feet dangling. "Alaric, I can't breathe."
"Ach, ye can breathe just fine!" Alaric said with a laugh, setting him down but keeping a firm hand on his shoulder. "Heard the story, how yer took on the lot of 'em in that war an' fought everyone off."
The tales of the war from a month ago had of course had reached the towns people of Xathia.
