(A take on the dance of thieves book)

It was the third night that the Ballengers were helping to build the new settlement. They had only planned to be there for one day. It seemed Jase had taken a real passion for this new town they were creating.

The Ballengers and Vendans and the three Rhatan were sitting around the great oak again, just like they has the previous two nights. But this time everyone seemed to be mixed in a little more. When they first worked together it was like putting some near pepper.

It was the same way it has been with Mason and Synove. Synove had chatted non stop when she was around him, just like with anybody else, and to everyone else Mason had seemed like he was sick of it. But that wasn’t it.

He didn’t dislike Synove one bit. No, but Masons heart still belonged to someone else. He wasn’t currently loyal to Shiya anymore. She had ended things between them, the reason still unknown to Mason.

He loved Synove’s company and chatty personality but part of him was still holding on to Shiya. He was tired of acting annoyed of Synove.

Mason sat by Synove long after dinner by the oak tree. All the Vendans were sleeping far from them, and most of. His siblings had already left. The fire was still dimly lit. They were resting quiet close to it, so Mason rolled up his sleeves from the heat, showing his tattoo, the same one all the Ballengers had. Except for Lydia and Nash of course.

Mason rested his head against the trunk, closing his eyes. He suddenly felt gentle hands running across his shoulder. He flinched away before realizing it was Synove. Her fingers didn’t leave his shoulder. She traced each feather individually. Mason only watched.

“What does it mean?” Synove said her gaze still fixed on his inked shoulder.

“It’s the Balnger crest. It came from our first ancestor, Greyson Ballenger. This is a version of the original one. All of us Ballengers have it.” Mason answered.

“It’s beautiful. When did you get it?”

“A year after Jase. Even thought were the same age, he wanted to get it a year earlier, at 15. He cried like a baby.” Mason said with a soft smile, memories flashing through his eyes.

“You’re the same age? So are you…” Synove started.

“Adopted? Yes. My parents were killed when I was three. Varylin took me in.” Mason answered while staring straight ahead.

“My parents were killed too. The queen took me in. Trained me to become Rhatan.” Synove said with great pride.

Mason look at Synove, realizing he never noticed the way her red locks flowed down her shoulders, and her crystal clear blue eyes. He grabbed her hand and interlocked it with his, kissing each ring that laced her fingers. She rested her head on his shoulder and they stared at the fire until they nodded off together.