Arley's Literatures

Not that he doesn’t have Hickory. He’ll always have Hickory: in the beaded necklace around Arley’s neck, a matching bracelet looped around his friend’s wrist; in the letters he kept from childhood, each signed and runed with that familiar crest overlaying the guild’s insignia; in the little scars on his fingertips where they nicked their skin and traded blood under Arley’s shaky grasp of his aspect. Forever, he promised. Forever is what Arley will give him.