Sensing no judgement and a sincere desire to get along, Alistar answered with a smile as they walked parallel to the hedges that lined much of the manor house. Today was a beautiful day, with clear skies that left a slight glare on the nearby windows.
"It was a few years back, yes."
"Where were you living before that?" When there was a hesitant pause, the older boy raised his free hand and shook his sable head. "You don't need to say. If Uncle Caedmon took you in, then I doubt you were living in the best of circumstances. He's a good man, our uncle."
"He is," Alistar agreed. "By the way, that's a fine sword if I've ever seen one. My master still has me wielding a wooden one."
"I had a feeling you were a swordsman. What style do you practice?"
"Crown Style."
"Ah, I should have figured. It's the same for me."
Alistar paid attention to the steadiness of the young man's strides and the subtle fluidity of his movements. "You're an adept, aren't you?"
