Eternal Flame I

"Boy… do you know who you are talking to?" Demanded Zeldren. His voice was hard and grizzled like he was trying to hold back.

A Blood Purist? What is—

"A traitor to his race. A dirty mongrel who sought to abandon his roots." Rowan answered as if speaking to a lowly servant. He pressed his palm to his waist just above the pummel of his sword. 

Ah, it's a racist. Wow. Is it such a big deal?

"Let's go," Vessi said, opening his eyes to Rowen, the scorn quite blatant in his stare. As if he'd heard enough, Vesyrn stood up and cupped his hand to Professor Zeldren. "Thank you for this gift, Professor. We shall not take it for granted." 

"Ah! Yeah. Thanks, Professor!" I joined, following Vessi's example. 

Professor Zeldren smiled. " No problem, kiddos, as long as you benefit." He said with a very… combative smile.