“Ares' Blade,” he muttered, his delicate grasp cradling the weapon as if it were a newborn child.
“Not quite, but it is likely made from the same ore.”
“You're serious, aren't you?” Jones asked, unable to tear his gaze from the expertly crafted weapon. Never in all his years had he seen or held a blade so fine. “I don't know what to say.”
“Just swear you'll stay safe. Before our newest guests depart there is still much we must discuss.”
“Then I should make haste in seeing to the request.” Jones turned the sword over studying its every detail. It was relativity plain, and yet magnificent. It was a tool crafted for purpose, not aesthetics, and it was beyond perfection. He placed a firm hand on Daniel's shoulder.
“Please do. In the meantime, I need to speak with an old friend.”
* * *
Z
