Chronicles of Aurderia: The Balance

by J. Steven Young

Shuran had to admire his tenacity. Being undersized as he was by dwarven standards, the young dwarf must feel that he always has something to prove. This time Avrank would push himself too far.

  As the group moved around a bend in the path, they reached a narrow ledge that would force them to shimmy one at a time to the wider path beyond a shear drop into a chasm. Each in turn, began the crossing. Backs to the mountain, they sidestepped along the ledge. Shuran had insisted the dwarfs go between him and Mallick. Progress was slow but steady. As Mallick and the first four dwarfs had finally made their way across, Shuran noticed Avrank’s fatigue. The small dwarf was wavering as he struggled to make his way to the other side of the chasm when he stumbled and slipped from the ledge.

  Those on the far side of the ledge, save one dwarf, just looked on in horror and shocked silence as Avrank slipped from the overhang and free fell into the chasm.

  Shuran acted on instinct and reached out after him. “Lil’Il!” Shuran spoke in the ancient tongue to lift with air. He strained to maintain concentration as he felt Avrank’s fall slow to a halt.

  Slowly he began to rise up toward the ledge. As he reached level with the others Shuran, visibly tired, pulled on the whispers of the wind to push the motionless form of Avrank over to his friends awaiting on the opposite side of the deep crevasse.

  Once Avrank was safely settled among his friends Shuran let loose of his grasp on the Essence and fell to knee. Mallick made to call out but Shuran reached into his pocket while lifting a hand to signal his wellness. Shuran pulled himself up as a faint but recognizable glow of Essence wrapped him in energy.

  Mallick knew at once that Shuran had forgotten to use the stone to aid in his weaving but used it now to replenish his own strength.

  Shuran made good time in reaching the others and making straight for Avrank.

  “He lives but is breathing shallow,” Mallick said.

  Shuran knelt down to examine the wounds his small friend had received slipping from the ledge. With one hand on the stone in his pocket, he placed the other upon Avrank’s head. “Dug Kalag-Ga!” Shuran intoned as he closed his eyes and reached into the unconscious dwarf to begin healing him.

  As the other dwarfs watched on in stunned silence, Mallick as well, was awed by the ease with which Shuran was able to manipulate the Essence and heal the wounds upon Avrank. This was the same man who Mallick had to stand over to protect while he was laid out cold, from a rock to the head.

  Avrank’s color returned quickly and his breathing deepened as his eyes fluttered open. “What happened?” he asked as Shuran removed his hand and sat back to open his water skin and offer it up.

  “You took a bit of a fall. You will be ok now,” Shuran said as he held the skin while Avrank drank deeply.

  Dvargan and Grafdrik both snorted at that statement. “Bit of a fall he says! You went head over arse into the chasm is all, and Shuran snatched you back up as easy as picking a berry,” the twins said in unison.

  “You two really need to stop that or there will be another ‘bit of a fall’ before long!” Mallick smirked remembering Moona’s warning again.

  Shuran held out his open hand and in an instant a sizable piece of dried meat appeared. “Eat this and have some more water to level yourself.”

  Avrank took the offering and began chewing on the meat while looking up at Shuran with a deeper respect. “It is no small thing to save the life of another with us dwarves,” one of them said to Mallick. “And saving the life of Avrank makes it that much bigger.”

  Mallick was not sure what that last statement inferred but he was certain they would soon find out.

  “If you are feeling better Avrank, perhaps we could continue on now. The sun is high and we want to be within your E-Kur before any trolls or whomever they answer too comes looking after their missing ranks,” Mallick said as he helped him to his feet.

  “I feel well. In fact I feel better than before…” he started.

  “It was foolish of you to put such great effort into burying the remains earlier.” one of the other dwarfs said.

  “I am sorry sheesh but I was only trying to help.” Avrank said.

  “Just because we nursed at the same teat does not make us brothers, Tur!”

  Avrank cringed at the slight. The other dwarfs were visibly uncomfortable but said nothing as they all continued on their way.

  Shuran hung back with Avrank at the rear of the company as they continued to climb. The group made good time, only stopping occasionally to rest, eat, and drink. That night they found a small cavern in which to spend the night.

  While the dwarves collected dead brush and branches from the bushes that clung to the cliffs, Shuran retrieved foodstuffs and Mallick setup the bed rolls. It was not long before there was a warm fire burning, and a pot of stew cooking. Shuran took a seat next to Avrank and offered him a wine skin that he also pulled from the Vault.

  Avrank accepted the skin and a warm smile spread upon his face when he realized what was within. “Now that can surely lift the spirits!” he said after taking a hearty swig of Codger’s brew.

  After Shuran took a drink and handed it back to Avrank, he decided to find out what was going on with Avrank and the other dwarf named Brakvar.

  “He is not all bad you know,” Avrank said looking at his older brother sitting nearer the fire across the cavern. “He is just angry that our father insisted I come along to meet you. He feels like he is my nurse made because I am much smaller.”

  “And that name he called you?” Shuran asked.

  “Tur, it is not a nice thing. It means, to be small. To a dwarf it is not welcome to be called small by other, larger races, but to be called ‘Tur’ by a fellow dwarf is the deepest of insults.” Avrank was holding back his sorrow.

  Shuran could not understand how a brother, a sheesh, could act so unjustly toward his own blood. “It seems to me that with what you did to help clean up the troll’s mess, and your quick thinking, you are quite a big help in my eyes. I am honored to call you friend.”

  Avrank was truly touched by this and it showed upon his ruddy little face.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning saw the seven up and off long before daybreak. Brakvar was still keeping distance from Avrank but he was not openly hostile any longer. They were nearly halfway up the mountain by now and Shuran noticed Mallick getting visibly wary of the hike.

  “Do you need rest Mally?” Shuran asked.

  “No, I feel fine but breathing is getting a bit taxing.”

  “The air thins the higher you go,” Shuran said.

  “What do you mean it thins? It is already invisible how much thinner can it get!”

  Shuran just sniggered and continued. “I read in the Vault library about things called particles. They make up everything when combined in certain ways. The air has different particles in it that we need to breath. The further we travel toward the sky, the fewer breathable particles there are, so it becomes more difficult to fill our lungs.” Shuran finished.

  “You will be breathing easier soon Shin’Ar. Inside the caverns of Duranekur, mosses and plants grow on many surfaces that make breathable air,” Avrank said and smiled as he stopped before a large outcropping of boulders.

  “And when will we arrive?” Shuran asked.

  “Follow and you shall see.”

  The men followed the dwarves around the boulders to find before them a doorway beyond the scale of even the tallest of giants. On each side of the enormous door stood matching totems of dwarves standing upon the shoulders of another. Each dwarf was carved intricately into the hard granite wall and each held various weapons.

  The bottom ones held war hammers. The next held axes. Another set held short swords and the following a spike headed club. There were crossbows and daggers and so on. What struck Shuran the most, was the top dwarf on each side held no weapon, merely a book.

  Before he could ask after the significance of the entry, the great doors began to slowly and silently swing in
ward. When they finally opened enough to allow light to enter, Shuran was surprised at the contingent waiting within. A long procession of dwarfs of all shapes and sizes were cheering the arrival of the Shin’Ar.

  “Ah Shuran, I think they mean for you to get into that cart drawn by those oversized hairy goats,” Mallick teased.

  “Oh no, Mally, as a member of my Zidu’Si, you may have the honor of staring at the same hairy arsed beast while we ride!” Shuran jested back.

  Mallick only mocked defeat as he climbed aboard and sat next to Shuran. “I hope these things have not been eating beans,” he said as he pulled the stopper off his wine skin and drank deeply.

  “The talkie twins tell me it is a long ride to the capital where we will audience with the King.”

  Shuran took the wine skin and drank deeply as well. Surprisingly, the ride in the cart was smooth. Shuran was already feeling a pain in his neck as his head was turning back and forth to nod and great the assembled dwarfs they passed along the unnaturally large passage.

  “I would assume that this grand passage is the work of your people using Earth magic?” Shuran asked Avrank who was running on his short legs to keep pace with the cart.

  “It is, but this is nothing compared to even the most meager of our clan villages. Just wait until you see the grand chamber of the capital.” Avrank could not hide the pride of his people if he tried.

  As they travelled along, the beauty of painted frescos on the walls amazed Shuran. There were scenes of what appeared as daily life as well as past wars and major events. On several occasions he would recognize what must have been the same figure of a warrior or a king holding a great war hammer and leading a battle, or sitting head of a banquet table, or other gathering. As he took in the artistry, as well as the scenes, he could not shake a feeling of familiarity. He decided to put it out of his mind for the time being. As they drew nearer their destination his nerves began to rattle at meeting royalty.

  “Shuran you have been more quiet than usual. What has hold of your tongue?” Mallick asked.

  “Mally we are about to meet the King of the Dwarfs. Are you not in the least bit nervous?”

  Mallick just shrugged and turned to his friend. “The way I see it, is we are being treated as honored guests. Hairy goat pulled cart aside, I think that it may be the King who is nervous at meeting the Shin’Ar reborn!” Mallick held no humor in his expression.

  This alone made Shuran struggle to hold back the impetus that threatened to force him back the way he came. “At least breathing is easier,” Shuran finally said looking at the patches of plants and moss growing around the wall base.

  Before long, the cart they rode, and most of the greeting party following, passed through the grand arched entry into a vast chamber deep in the mountain. They had arrived at Duranekur.

  Shuran and Mallick alike where stunned silent with the majesty of what they saw. To say the chamber was big or even enormous would be akin to calling a speck of dust miniscule. If he did not know better, Shuran would have thought they just arrived at the home of giants, not dwarves.

  Avrank came up breathless, to find his people’s most honored guests staring around slack jawed. “Beyond beautiful is it not?” Avrank asked them.

  Shuran and Mallick just nodded as they continued taking in the sight. Along the outer walls ran tall columns that reached into the heights of the chamber before arching toward the center point of the dome. Giant torches lined the walls and were spread throughout the complex on buildings and atop posts that lined the roadways. Buildings were aligned in a grid pattern following the circular plan of the chamber.

  What finally caused Shuran to catch his breath, was the structure at the center of everything. It could only be the Royal Palace and grounds. The palace was a towering castle with twelve turrets and what seemed hundreds or terraces. The palace and the surrounding buildings all looked as though it was carved from a single block of stone. It appeared as if the entire city had been built by simply removing what was not needed from the center of the mountain.

  Even more onlookers met the procession to the Royal Castle.

  “Do you see all the Dwarven maidens throwing flowers down from their balconies? I think more than a few are vying for the attention of our guides,” Shuran said.

  “How can you tell they are maidens?” Mallick asked only half kidding.

  “They wear what might pass for a dress,” Shuran said.

  “I used to know an old man in Two Bridges who looked better in a dress than these dwarven maidens. At least he shaved his legs,” Mallick jested.

  “He likely shaved his face as well I imagine,” Shuran joked back.

  “I suppose you think your women are so beautiful to behold?” Brakvar said as he stepped up beside the now stopped cart.

  “Sorry no offense meant,” Mallick stuttered.

  Brakvar smiled. “It is as you say. I think some of our dwarven maids could stand for a waxing of the lip.” He chuckled as he walked ahead to meet the guards at the castle entrance.

  Shuran and Mallick watched blush faced, climbing off the cart, as the guards stood back to open the gates and allow the five dwarves and the two of them into the castle grounds.

  “Aknard, is there anything that Mallick and I should know before we meet the King?” Shuran asked.

  Avrank looked at him in surprise. “In what regards?”

  “I have never met royalty, neither of us has. We would hate to make some gross breach of etiquette and insult your King,” Shuran said.

  “I would not worry over much. The King is quite personable and down to earth if you pardon the play on words,” Avrank said.

  As if on cue, the doors before them opened to the main castle and standing before them was the King of the dwarves. The King was a hearty and imposing figure for a dwarf. He was head and shoulders taller than Brakvar reaching just below the chin of a grown man. He was dressed rather opulently with silks, jeweled belts, rings, and crown.

  “Welcome honored guests, I am Vraduun, King of the Dwarves. Please… please come into the palace. We have a welcome feast awaiting and I want to get out of this jester’s suit my Lady Wife insisted I wear to meet you.”

  Vraduun looked at Shuran. “I do not mean offense my young asipu friend but a little of this goes a long distance.” He finished tugging at his ruffles and sash.

  Shuran smiled back and nodded in understanding.

  The King led them into the main chamber where they were met by staff to take their things. “My staff will take you to your rooms where you may wash your travels away and freshen for dinner. I will see you a turn hence in the main dining hall. I would have preferred something less grandiose but again my Lady Wife insists on keeping up on appearances for the dwarven court,” Vraduun said as he gestured for the staff to gather their things and take them to the royal guest rooms.

  “Thank you your highness,” Shuran said.

  Vraduun just grunted and smiled. “Unless we are in formal proceedings I insist you call me Vraduun. And save your thanks until ‘after’ you have been subjected to the court and my lady wife!” With a wink he turned from the weary travelers and headed for his own royal rooms.

  Shuran and Mallick followed a housemaid to their rooms.

  “Is it true?” the dwarven maid asked Shuran. “Are you truly the Shin’Ar returned to Ersetu?”

  “So I am led to believe,” Shuran muttered.

  The maid clearly did not catch what he said.

  “Yes, he is and I am of his Zidu’Si. He is called Shuran and I am Mallick at your service fair dwarven maiden.”

  The dwarven maid giggled and might have blushed had it been possible to see beneath the layer of fuzz on her face. She motioned for the other dwarves following with their meager traveling bags and fresh water to go about their work.

  “This is the main sitting and greeting room of your suite. You will find bedchambers on each side of this room. I will return within the hour to show you to the dining hall.” With a courtes
y and bow of the head she backed from the room and shuffled on her way giggling.

  “What is with the fair maiden hoo-ha, Mally? She has more hair on her knuckles than you can manage growth in a moon turn on your chin,” Shuran joked as he mockingly punched his adopted brother on the arm.

  “Regardless of the hair, I mean fair maiden, one should always be gentlemanly.”

  Mallick returned the punch and went off to his room to freshen.

  “I will retrieve suitable clothing from the vault and have one of the chamber men set them out in your room.” Shuran went off to his room as well.

  Shuran entered his oversized room and immediately noticed the average human sized furnishings. It appeared to him that the rooms were specially prepared for non-dwarven guests. He wondered at the craftsmanship of the woodwork and the tapestries that hung about the room.

  The dwarven attendant cleared his throat and motioned to the now filled bathing tub.

  Shuran nodded and undressed. The feeling of the hot soapy water felt heavenly against his road worn skin. After he thoroughly scrubbed and washed his hair and body, he emerged from the tub and refused the offered towel, preferring to call forth fire and wind to heat dry himself. The dwarf gasped in surprise and awe, then bowed.

  “Shin’Ar!” he said in reverence.

  “Please, just call me Shuran.” Shuran called forth clothing from the Vault suitable for dining with the royal court. He was not sure they would still be fashionable since they were part of the contents of the Vault for at least the last few thousand years, but it was the best he could do. He did not know at the time that he would be wearing the clothes that once belonged to the original Shin’Ar. “Please take this other set of clothing and lay it out for my friend,” Shuran said as he handed the bundle to the dwarf.

  “As you wish Shuran Shin’Ar.”

  Shuran and Mallick stood in the greeting room, pulling and tugging their clothing, trying to adjust to the strange garb.

  “We look foolish. I can now see why the King dislikes what he met us wearing,” Mallick said.