He walked forward, returning the woman's smile. Kronk tip-tapped in his wake.
“Good afternoon, folks. Welcome to my home,” Simon said as he approached. The woman nodded.
“Good afternoon, young man. And thank you. My name is Clara.”
She extended her hand and Simon shook it. Her palm and fingers were calloused from hard work and he was reassured. Not someone who shrunk from getting her hands dirty, he thought.
“This older gentleman is Richard. The younger member of the group is Michael.”
“Good to meet you all. I'm Simon.” The two armored figures nodded at him, Michael grinning widely. The older man looked stern but not menacing. Simon noticed that both were carrying large backpacks.
“I'm sorry to drop by without warning like this,” Clara said. “But when Aeris came along and mentioned that we had an honest to goodness wizard in the neighborhood, well, I just had to meet you for myself.”
Simon had to laugh a bit at her earnest tone.
“I understand. I was actually thinking of traveling down to meet you too.” He waved toward the tower. “Please, come in.”
“Thanks so much.” She looked at the two men behind her. “Come along, guys. If Simon would be so kind, I'm sure you could use a drink of water. Those suits aren't exactly air-conditioned, are they?”
“Oh, we're fine, ma'am,” Richard said gruffly.
“You might be, but I wouldn't say no to some cool water,” Michael replied with a grin.
The older man rolled his eyes.
“Kids!” he said gruffly.
Michael reached over and tapped his mailed finger on Richard's chest. The armor rang with a metallic echo.
“Hey, let's remember who was older back before we Changed, mister,” he told the other man.
“Yeah, well, now I'm the elder, thanks very much. So a little respect for the old man, if you please.”
Both Clara and Simon had watched the exchange with amusement. Now she cleared her throat to get their attention.
“Guys, we're not giving our new friend a very good impression of us, are we?”
Both men looked abashed but Simon just chuckled.
“I don't mind,” he said. He indicated Aeris and Kronk. “These two tend to bicker a lot too. I've gotten used to it.”
“We don't bicker, master,” Kronk said, sounding a bit put out. “We simply disagree occasionally.”
Simon gave Clara a look and she smiled silently.
“Anyway, come on in,” he said and led the way through the gate. Clara walked beside him looking around with interest.
“How on earth did you build this wall?” she asked when they got to the steps leading to the front door and she looked back at the gate.
Simon indicated Kronk.
“My friend here and some of his fellow elementals built it for me.” He waited and then added, “Yesterday.”
Her eyes widened.
“You're kidding! That's amazing.” She gazed at Kronk speculatively. “Maybe someday in the future, we can arrange a trade. If you need any smithing done, we have an excellent blacksmith, and we could use some help with our own walls, to be honest.”
“Maybe we could. But that's up to Kronk,” Simon said with a smile down at the little rocky figure. Kronk had a suspiciously satisfied look on his face. “He's a friend, not a servant, no matter how much he protests that he is.”
The earth elemental bowed to Clara.
“It would be my pleasure, lady, if my master wishes to trade. And I am at his service, even if he chooses to call it friendship.”
“Kronk,” Simon protested with an eye roll.
Clara chuckled. “You have an interesting relationship with your little friends, Simon.” She looked toward Aeris, who was hovering nearby. “This one had nothing but good things to say about you, which is one of the reasons I chose to travel to see you. Against the advice of some of my people, I might add.”
Simon waved Clara into the tower and followed her inside, with the two men clunking along behind him.
“Oh, this is very nice,” Clara said as she entered. She looked around with approval and Simon was silently grateful that he'd tidied up recently. The place actually looked neat, although he winced as he noticed a few patches of dust here and there on the floor.
He hurried to pull out a chair at the kitchen table.
“Please, have a seat,” he said graciously. Then he looked at Richard and Michael. “Um, I don't think my chairs will handle your weight, gentlemen.” He indicated the large leather couch along the far wall. “The couch is pretty sturdy though, if you'd like to sit down.”
Richard stomped over and stared down at the long couch dubiously. He finally shrugged, took off his pack and set it on the floor. Then he drew his axe and slowly eased himself down on to the cushions, which settled lower with a squeal of protesting springs. The older man sighed and rested his axe across his knees.
Michael had watched the other man with a smile. Now he briskly pulled out his sword, slipped off his backpack, spun around and plunked himself down next to Richard. The couch shuddered but, to Simon's relief, didn't collapse under the weight of all that armor.
Clara gracefully sat down and Simon hurried over to the pump beside the sink. He filled two glasses with water and served the two men, who accepted them with thanks.
“Clara, can I offer you some tea?” he asked her as he returned to the sink.
“That would be lovely, Simon. Thank you.” She was staring around the room with interest. “You have a very comfortable home here.”
“Thanks,” he replied as he filled the iron kettle and hung it over the fire. He added some small pieces of wood to the low-burning flames, poked the embers until they ignited the wood and then went over and sat down across from the cleric.
“It will only take a minute for the water to boil,” he told her. She nodded silently with a smile.
“So,” he continued, “what can I do for you?”
“To the point,” Clara said. “I like that. Actually, it's more along the lines of what can we do for each other.”
She sat silently for a moment, obviously collecting her thoughts. Simon waited patiently.
“We have a decent library back at our little settlement. It's called Nottinghill, by the way.” At Simon's raised eyebrow, she laughed. “Don't blame me. There was a vote on a list of names that people came up with. That one proved the most popular. I have no idea why. At any rate, I've read some books on clerics and wizards, mostly speculative fiction, but interesting stuff nonetheless.”
She settled into her seat and tapped a finger absently on the tabletop.
“No one was more surprised than I when the Change happened, several years ago.” She grimaced. “I was a fairly happy middle-aged yoga instructor before,” she waved her hand vaguely, “all this happened. What about you?”
Simon shrugged. “A sixty year old IT guy. Why I Changed and not others is a mystery to me.”
“Exactly.” She glanced at the two men who were listening closely. “The same could be said for all of us. According to Richard and Michael, they were both just regular guys, before. Richard was a teacher? Yes. And Michael owned a used car dealership. Now look at them. Out of nowhere, they became what you see. They wear armor the way you and I wear these robes, with no effort at all. And those weapons aren't for show. Both have fighting skills like knights out of legend. The man who crafted their armor was a pilot, believe it or not. Now Gregory is even bigger than Richard and he can forge armor and weapons as if he's been doing it his whole life.”
She fell silent for a moment.
“I know it's baffling,” Simon commented.
He stood up and quickly made the tea. When he indicted the pot of honey, she nodded with a smile.
Simon returned to his seat and handed a cup to Clara, then sat back as she sipped her tea and continued to speak.
“Yes. Now according to my research, if there was an age of magic, and obviously there was, we all
seem to have Changed to conform to classes of people who existed then. To use your old career language,” she smiled at Simon, “we've been reprogrammed at a cellular level into creatures who can exist in an atmosphere rich with magic.”
She looked over at the two men who were watching silently.
“The weapons that my two friends are carrying are not as they seem. I've seen Richard slice an iron bar in half with his axe. Michael's sword can cut through a boulder without so much as dulling its edge. How Gregory imbued them with magic even he does not know. He says that it just happens.”
She looked back at Simon.
“We are like children stumbling around in the dark right now. Newly born and prone to making mistakes. I think that it will take years before we all understand our powers and gifts.” And now her voice took on a grim tone. “Years that we may not have.”
“What makes you say that?” Simon asked, fascinated by her take on the new world.
“The dragons, of course. I've never been a religious person, so why I have been transformed into a cleric is baffling, but here I am. I have had dreams, Simon. Dreams that I can only attribute to the gods of Light. They have shown me the future. Well, one possible future anyway. In it, the dragons wipe out the last of the old world and then hunt down all of us who have been Changed.”
She shuddered and then rubbed her arms briskly, as if she was suddenly chilled.
“It is a horrible vision, my friend. Horrible. We have, perhaps, a handful of years before this comes to pass. Not enough time to explore all of our abilities, I'd say.”
Clara fell silent and a gloom seemed to descend on the room's inhabitants. Even the two elementals, waiting just inside the door, were quiet.
Finally Simon spoke up hesitantly.
“I don't know if it's coincidence or not, but I've been thinking the same thing. Since I learned that we only had a few years before the dragons came for us, I've been trying to conceive of some way to outwit them. Or destroy them, as laughable as that sounds.”
Clara looked at him curiously.
“How did you learn of our approaching doom? A vision?” She sounded dubious.
“No, definitely not,” Simon said with grim amusement at the thought. “I was told by an elf.”
The cleric sat up with a jerk and the two fighters both exclaimed loudly and struggled to their feet. Simon almost laughed as Richard nearly fell backwards until Michael caught him by the elbow and steadied him.
“An elf?” Clara stared at him incredulously. “You have actually seen an elf?”
Simon looked from her to the two men, who were staring at him keenly, and back again.
“Yeah. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I was visited by an elvish maiden named Ethmira. She warned me of what was to come,”
Clara nodded as she watched him.
“My new role as a cleric allows me to see through deception. You are telling the truth. I can see that. But an elf...”
“Like I said, ridiculous.” Simon shrugged. “But true. She also ran out of here like the wind once she'd had her say. And not long afterwards, a dragon flew over the tower.”
This time, no one commented on that incredible statement. They simply goggled at him.
“So that's why it was in this part of the country,” Clara murmured.
“You saw it?”
“Well, it's rather hard to miss, isn't it?” Clara said with grim amusement. “Yes, we saw it. Several weeks ago. Just from a distance, happily, but it sent the entire town into a panic. It was hours before we could get everyone settled down.”
“Why would a dragon be chasing an elf?” Michael asked, sounding bewildered.
“According to Ethmira, the elves can be seen by the dragons, unlike us at the moment. Something about them being magic instead of using magic. Does that make sense?” he asked Clara.
“Yes. Yes, it does.” She looked thoughtful. “A being whose essence is magical would be a tempting morsel to a dragon, I should think.” She hesitated, then asked “If I'm not intruding, could you tell us about her visit?”
“I'd be happy to,” Simon told her.
And so he did, trying to remember everything the elf had said during her visit. He ended up telling her about Daniel as well and Clara seemed fascinated by his friend's seeming knowledge of the future. She didn't interrupt though and he finished his story and sat back feeling a little drained. Simon hadn't realized how good it would feel to tell others about the mysterious visit.
Clara sat silently when he had stopped speaking, but Richard spoke up for the first time.
“Perhaps we can share some information with the wizard, since he has been so open with us. Maybe explain how our smith came by his sudden skill with metal.” And he tapped his armor lightly.
Clara shot him a stern look but he just shrugged and she nodded slowly.
“Yes, you're right. We should start our relationship by being as forthright as possible.”
She drank some tea slowly and Simon waited, wondering what they had been keeping to themselves.
“Very well.” Clara sat up alertly. “You aren't the only one who has met a mythical race from the past, Simon. When Gregory wandered into our little town about two years ago, lost and confused, we took him in happily. He is a gentle giant and we can always use another pair of hands. But then he began repairing our tools. He crafted a plow from scraps he scavenged from around the area. He built a forge and started putting out new tools and weapons. In short, we were gifted with a blacksmith just when we needed one the most. It seemed like divine providence.”
She sipped more tea and Simon got up to brew another pot. When he refilled her cup, she gave him a grateful look.
“But while we believed that this new world held dangers that might necessitate our guards,” she nodded at Richard and Michael, who had sat back down on the couch, “wearing armor to protect themselves, Gregory simply had no idea of how to even begin crafting something like that. And then one night, we heard a pounding on our gates.”
She drank some tea and laughed lightly. Simon raised an eyebrow inquiringly.
“Oh, it's nothing. But the wooden wall around our settlement is so flimsy compared to yours. I hadn't realized how little protection it would be in an attack until just now. Sorry for getting off track. So, when we gathered at the gate and opened it, we found three people standing out in the shadows. Three people wearing armor that could have been pulled out of a history book of the middle-ages.”
Simon gaped at her.
“Who were they?” he asked breathlessly.
Clara smiled wryly.
“Well, I should have guessed by the fact that they were about four feet tall and three feet wide. But who would have believed such beings existed?”
“They were dwarves, Simon,” Richard said from across the room.
Simon looked at him, then back at Clara who smiled in agreement.
“Exactly. Dwarves. Just like in the fairy tales. Beards down to their waists, axes on their hips and skin like pebbles. Dwarves.”
“But that's, that's...”
“As ridiculous as elves?” Michael said lightly.
And Simon had to laugh.
“Yes, exactly like that. Wow. Dwarves.”
His mind wandered for a moment as he tried to imagine it. What a world of wonders they were living in; first elves, now dwarves. What was next...trolls?
A movement near the doorway caught his eye, but it was just Aeris bobbing in the breeze that wafted into the tower. Simon had a thought.
“Did you guys know about the dwarves?” he asked both Kronk and Aeris.
“Did we know what about them, master?” Kronk asked back, leaving Simon a bit confused.
“I believe Kronk means, are you asking if we knew that they ever existed or that they still exist?” Aeris said helpfully.
“Um, both, I guess,” Simon replied.
“Yes and no, master,” Kronk said.
Simon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The litt
le guy was being more cryptic than usual. Again, Aeris hastened to explain.
“Yes, we knew that dwarves existed once. And no, we didn't know that they still do.” He looked down at Kronk. “Is that what you meant?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Kronk sounded a little more friendly toward the other elemental and Simon hoped that it was a sign of things to come. Peace between his two house-mates would make his life a lot less chaotic.
“I wish you guys had told me about them before,” he said absently.
“Well, you can't really blame them, can you?” Clara asked. “I'm sure there are many things they remember from the days of magic that would be fascinating, but you need to ask the right questions to discover them.”
“Fair point,” Simon said. “So what did these dwarves want, anyway?”
She smiled. “They wanted to speak to Gregory. They seemed to have little interest in the rest of us, although they were polite enough. Apparently, they were drawn to our smith for some reason. His power over metal perhaps. They never said. But they did train him in the art of crafting armor, seemingly just for the fun of it.”
“They're a taciturn lot, I'll tell you. Not exactly chatty.” That was Michael.
Clara looked at him.
“Not on their first visit, maybe. But they've opened up a bit since then.”
“You mean you've seen them more than once?” Simon asked in amazement.
“Oh yes. They return every few months. The same group of three. We've actually set up a bit of trade with them. They bring in raw ore for Gregory to work with and in return we supply grains, some leather and preserved meat, among other things. It's been beneficial for both sides.”
“Huh.” Simon drank some tea and tried to sort through what he was hearing. “Then they haven't attracted the dragon's attention?”
“Fortunately not. But from our conversations with them, it's obvious that the dwarves aren't magical creatures like the elves are. They use magic in forging their metal work, but they are mortal like you and I.”
“So where have they been for thousands of years?”
“Well, according to Stanis Ironfist, that's the leader of the group that visits us, after the magic faded the dwarves retreated to their own underground halls, in the 'deep of the world' as he calls it. Apparently, the loss of the Earth's magic also rendered their weapons, armor and machines useless and they withdrew to their own cities to wait for better days. Dwarves are a patient lot,” Clara added dryly.
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