by K Fisher
“Why did you want to come here?” Atair asked, frowning at a metal spoon upon the ground, kicking it away from them. “Just old memories?” Although he was teasing, Atair’s bright blue eyes were searching the crowd and his tall, lean body was tense.
“This is a great place to build another home. The guards will lend a hand and we will inquire with the builders as to where we can start, although I’ve assisted with a few homes in the past when one of the towns I resided in was destroyed. We need to put in some work here if we are going to build trust.”
“So you signed me up to build some houses?”
Dora smiled when she turned around, golden eyes twinkling as she nodded and leaned down, grabbing an object upon the ground before shoving it into Atair’s hand. When he looked down, the hammer was glinting in the sunlight. “You really aren’t kidding,” he murmured.
“Nope, let’s put that magic to use and start helping.”
~
Hours later, the majority of Glade had congregated toward the wall and if they were not assisting the team with building, they were staring and speaking amongst themselves. Dora did not pay the speaking any mind, focusing instead on the progress they were making. With Atair’s magic, the lumber had easily been transported to the empty land and the base for three homes laid down. By the end of the day, several families would have a covered place to lay their heads.
Things had gone uninterrupted for some time and breaks taken in stride, their worries starting to dissipate as the comfort of being outside the castle settled within Dora and Atair. Back in their own element, they led the group easily, stopping only when the heavy footfalls of a group approaching pulled their attention.
Dora’s guards blocked the group before they had a chance to get to Atair and Dora. Phillip took a few steps forward toward the human male leading the group, eyes scanning over the dozen or so humans who followed the stranger. “State your business,” he said simply, eyes falling to the object in the human male’s hands.
The item was flat and covered with a silken cloth that covered the contents from view. Not offering it to Phillip and instead cradling it against his body, the human looked beyond the guards and his brown eyes caught Dora’s. “I come to present the Queen with a gift.”
Dora wiped the sweat from her brow, standing from her position upon the ground before stopping alongside Atair as they approached the group of humans. Phillip was already peering over the ‘gift’, skepticism written all over his face as he drew his sword, the guards next to him doing the same. Dora and Atair ceased walking when they reached Phillip, the warlock’s hand falling on Phillip’s sword as he tisked. “Let me take a look at it. They haven’t done anything to make us believe they wish us killed. Simmer down.”
Phillip grimaced and slowly sheathed his weapon, the rest of the elven guards doing the same. Moving in front of the guards and Dora, Atair reached for the cloth and slowly pulled it from the object in the man’s hands, eyes widening when the sword beneath sparkled and gleamed in the bright sunlight.
“The people of Glade wanted to thank our new Queen for coming to right the wrongs of the Mad King. We called upon our best weaponsmiths and created a weapon worthy of the protector, blessed by warlock magic and promised to deal the wrath of Her Highness, if she wishes it,” the man said confidently, falling down to his knees as he presented the sword above his head.
Behind him, the men, women, and children that had followed bowed down before Dora. She was stunned, a flush creeping up her cheeks as she tried to force it down and keep her composure before them all. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the longsword presented to her. The handle was silver and gold, swirled with a mixture of both colors as it reached toward the blade like the branches of a tree. The handle curved upward, sharp at the ends like weapons of their own. The blade was shimmering subtly, the smallest of magical sparks drifted up to the sky like a piece of dust floating away, free now that it was fully uncovered.
Atair extended a hand to the weapon, not grasping onto it. The soft blue of his magic surrounded the sword as he hovered his hand above it, gliding from one side of the weapon to the other. When his hand fell, he looked over to Dora with a smile. “There is no ill intent or dark magic within this sword.”
Despite the grumbling from Phillip, Dora stepped up to the human man and put a hand on his shoulder. “Please stand. I would love to know the people who made me such a…” Deadly and incredible. “Beautiful gift.”
Beaming, the older man stood and gestured for the rest to do the same. The admiration in the eyes of those who looked upon her was clear, one of the smaller boys in the front of the group who appeared no older than five or six seasons stared at her with an emotion Dora could not place. She flashed him a smile and a small wave and the boy squeaked, grasping onto the hem of his mother’s dress as he shied away from her gaze and acknowledgement.
“We are a group that always held hope, a family that helped stand against the dragons during the attack. I am Aaron and that,” He pointed at the small boy. “Is Michael. He recently told his mother he’d like to be you when he grew older.”
Atair smiled and laughed, giving Dora’s shoulder a nudge as she lifted the sword from Aaron’s hands and admired the weight and shape of it. “It is most wonderful to meet you all and I strive to do well and be the leader you deserve.” Her words were met with smiles and claps of approval from the group.
The next words Aaron spoke were lower and more ominous, drifting across the short space between himself and Dora like a promise in the wind, sending chills down both Dora and Atair’s spine.
“May it protect you from those who mean you harm, my Queen.”
Chapter Eighteen
Deep in the High Mountains
Alni approached Bethinium on the large chair amidst the singing and excitement of the dwarven home, one eyebrow quirked as he questioned the sanity of the man before him. The warlock ceased waving the drumstick in his hand the moment his eyes fell upon Alni, jumping from the chair and racing forward toward the two of them.
Once the presence of Silthia was registered, the singing tapered to a silence and as if a spell were in place, the dwarves disappeared. Into their homes and up the ladders they went, scurrying away from the middle of the stone room and the strangers who had just arrived.
“Alni, my boy! Good of you to come back. I take it the two of you did what you needed to do? You look…well?” He looked at the two of them up and down, dark brown eyes gleaming when he met Alni’s once again. “I see you two have received quite the gift, this is a good thing but you’ll be pleased to know I’ve been told the key is here and safe. It will be returned to me tonight at dinner. It appears we will have a good night of sleep before we plan our next move.”
Thankfully, it did not appear to Alni that he and Silthia left Bethinium too long. Although an empty glass remained upon the table before his chair, he looked well aware and on his game.
“I thought you said dwarves were unhappy, miserable creatures Bethinium? Beings that only loved being around each other and despised others beyond anything else? I’ve seen a dwarf at a tavern sharing a table with a human and just walked into a festive arrangement… I think there’s some sort of camaraderie here you aren’t telling me about.”
“Hmm. The dwarves must be broken, I could have sworn they were difficult before!” Bethinium exclaimed, nodding his head at the space over Alni’s left shoulder.
Alni turned around, catching sight of the dwarves approaching them immediately, but what really caught his attention was the small man that led them. There was no doubt in Alni’s mind that the dwarf was surely the Meek Bethinium had spoken about.
The man’s head was held high, rosy cheeks nestled above a long, white beard that put all others to shame. At first, Alni assumed Meek was like The Man in The Tree and tossed the long hair over a shoulder, it wasn’t until he saw the line of three dwarves that carried the white beard behind Meek that he realized just how truly long it was. The dwarven
King wore a robe of moss green that reached down to his ankles, adorned with golden buttons from the hem to his collar. His voice was booming and fearsome, so unlike his cheerful appearance and comical beard.
“Ah, the half-elf we’ve heard so much about and his flying lizard. What a blessing to have you both. It has been a very long time since such magic has been allowed in our halls. The others reported that Bethinium did not lie about your beard, do not worry - with many more battles it may soon grow honorably.”
“I…” Alni looked from Bethinium to Silthia, choosing to ignore the smile on both of their faces as they waited for his reaction. “It’s very fashionable where I’m from to have uneven beards, short beards. I happen to know the Queen thinks it’s charming.” Did she? Why was he suddenly worried about his appearance so much?
“Ah! The Queen! Elven women are the most beautiful of Desin’s creations! Second only to our dwarven women, of course.” One of the dwarves holding his beard cleared their throat loudly and Meek waved the sound off with his hand. “That is your best choice, to match up with a non-magical elven woman. They are quite tall and-”
“The Queen is a short one, two inches above a fairy, I hear,” one dwarf piped up from the back.
“Is that so? Well, boy, I suppose you’re a lost cause on that one. If you do not know by now, I am Meek, leader of the dwarves and master of the High Mountains. I am indebted to your warlock teacher, which is the only reason you are all allowed to enter, but I fear it has caused unease in my people. Allow us to lead you outside while we prepare dinner. I have seen Bethinium teach and I am certain he can fill your time until we get dinner in your belly and the key in your hands.”
“He’s keeping it hostage to ensure we break bread with him,” Bethinium said with a laugh.
“You broke more than your share of bread before they came, old friend, but yes - it would be good for my people to see what potential the honorable can possess with magic. At least for a night, then it’s off the mountain for all three of you!”
Alni, Silthia, and Bethinium were led outside the mountain through back tunnels, almost having to turn around when Silthia had some difficulty getting through the doorway. Once the fresh air hit the three of them, it was clear it was much needed. Although the dwarves loved to be nestled away inside their caverns and mountain, the three of them desired something a bit more open.
Alni had noticed the soft pattering of feet following the group of them through the hallways, a feeling that did not cease when the guards left them outside and instructed them to make themselves comfortable until they returned with information about dinner. The feet were attached to small, dwarven children that had taken quick notice to strangers and decided to trail along after them during the tour. None of the guards shooed them off as they disappeared back into the mountain, leaving the children at the doorway back inside. Saying nothing, the little dwarven faces watched them closely as they settled in the clearing before disappearing back through the door.
Bethinum looked to Silthia and Alni once they were certain they were alone, studying the two of them before finally speaking. “Are you both alright?”
“I think so-” The words left both of their mouths at the same time, the uncertainty clear in their voices.
“We should take this time to train a little if you think you are able, Alni. The key is safe but that only means that Taber will be coming for us once he realizes he needs it. What you newly harness needs to be mastered before you’re put in a position where you need it.”
Alni swallowed hard, nodding as he watched Bethinium take a seat on the ground. He already knew where the warlock was going, it was the start of the training session and something Bethinium always started with. Above anything else it was Alni’s least favorite activity.
“I was able to use magic effectively earlier, are you sure we need to do this before beginning?”
“So Silthia told me,” Bethinium said with a sigh, crossing his legs as he closed his eyes and placed his palms on the earth beside him.
Alni took his place on the ground, eyes looking over to Silthia when Bethinium’s words registered. “When did you two have time to talk?” When there was no answer, Alni felt that familiar twinge of anger deep in the pit of his stomach. But just as soon as it had appeared he forced it down, reminding himself of the Mystic Dragon’s last warning to him and the new power he now possessed. “If you two can talk without speaking, I’d like to learn how to do that. I also want to learn how to communicate back to Dora, I haven’t had a chance to speak with her in a bit and I need to check in.”
“Unfortunately, the mushrooms needed for that particular spell do not grow on this side of Desin and you swallowed a bit too much of my last stash. It’s too dangerous to send mail by raven at any of these towns, the risk that Taber or someone else gets hold of the message before Dora does is too high. Focus on the task at hand, Alni. The sooner this is done, the sooner you can return to your Queen.”
Alni nodded, resisting the urge to sigh as he closed his eyes and placed his palms against the cold ground. Unlike the other times he had sat in the uncomfortable position and focused on breathing and meditating through the motions, this time Alni felt something. It was as though the very ground beneath his hands pulsed and breathed into his body, matching each deep intake, hold, and slow breath out.
His senses had never been so alive, his connection to the power of Desin so unfathomable.
He knew when his eyes opened that Bethinium would be hovering above the ground he sat on, calm and completely connected to the natural power he had been born with. It was an ability Alni had been told he potentially could never learn, having been blessed with the power through the stone, not at birth. Opening his eyes, Alni noted Bethinium directly before him, the same height as he had been when their eyes first closed.
Looking down, Alni’s heart began racing wildly, his body shuddering in the air as he registered that he no longer remained on the ground.
“Breathe in, focus on pulling the power from the ground beneath you, focus on recharging and preparing for the tasks at hand. Pay no mind to what your body does now, for Desin will keep you safe.”
Safe? He was floating… Could that possibly mean he was able to fly? Bethinium had told him that such things were impossible for warlocks but this very action he was trying to do was impossible for himself only earlier that day, so perhaps it was something he could learn to do even when others could not. Instead of concentrating on floating, Alni tried to move forward in the air. The moment he adjusted his hands he fell the several feet he had been floating, landing with a thud upon the ground. With a grumble, Alni slowly got to his feet and watched Bethinium gravitate slowly towards the ground, his feet landing with ease as an explosion of giggles erupted from their right.
In the bushes, several dwarven children hid and watched, their big eyes focused on the display of magic they had never been privy to. “Alni, you are so intent on wanting more. If you always strive for the next thing, you will never connect with what is happening around you. Now that we are aware we have others watching, perhaps we can show them a bit more magic.”
There was a gleam in Bethinium’s eyes as one old hand came up to twist the bead around in his beard. It was a glint that Alni knew too well, one that before had worried him and scared him - knowing it meant magic was about to be hurled in his general direction or he’d be sent across the clearing on his ass.
Now, he wanted to test things out, needed to know what he was doing. The understanding of what had truly happened earlier that day began to settle in Alni’s mind, the weight of what they had promised and what was to come became real to him. If he was going to do anything to help Dora and help Desin, he was going to need practice.
Not the type of practice that went too easy on him, either.
“Are you sure you should be doing magic after that wine, old man?” Alni teased, his smile growing when Bethinium’s did in turn.
“Now that’s the Alni I’ve been look
ing for.” His words ended with a lowered stance, reaching for the whittled walking stick he had placed beside himself on the ground and holding it in both hands. “I’ll let you have the first move.”
There was a soft gasp from the dwarven children and Alni’s smile broadened, eyes focused on Bethinium as he remembered the training they had shared over the past few weeks. Although the focus had been on defensive spells and preventing harm from befalling him, there had been a few attack spells Bethinium had attempted to teach him in the past.
Focusing on his senses, Alni drowned out the sounds around him, feeling the magic warming through his body until it burned at his fingertips, a humming that vibrated through him. All around him there was silence aside from the shift of Bethinium’s foot against the earth as he adjusted. The sharp intake of breath the warlock took before Alni struck.
Alni focused on wind that passed him, watching the leaves it stirred up as his hand extended toward the gust. The world around him was moving in slow motion, the surprise and approval spreading like molasses on Bethinium’s face the very moment before Alni used the wind and enhanced it with his magic.
Push it, push it against your foe. Don’t forget to pick up some things along the way! If you don’t focus you’re going to miss.
Bethinium’s words were said from Dora’s mouth and with her voice, the magical outline of her body sitting next to the children as she watched him. Alni knew it was not truly her, simply an early byproduct of Bethinium’s teaching, but her teasing tone was just what he needed to pull full focus.
Silthia’s head whipped around just in time to see Alni gather his magic, controlling the wind near him until it was a swirling tornado of power that sucked up every leaf, stone, and plant upon the ground. The powerful, dirty gust of magic launched itself at Bethinium when Alni extended his hands to his side slowly, lifting his hands as the tornado rose, hitting the warlock and enveloping the area he stood with swirling dirt and debris.