As we moved up the road, which was now suddenly paved in a strange, flat sort of stone, I was amazed at how open everything felt. Before the wonder of the ice wall, the world consisted of trees, rocks, and dirt. The top of the mountain had not been far.

But now, it was as if we were on an entirely different mountain—one that was so large my mind had trouble grasping the dimensions of it. Perhaps the ice wall and magic had created an illusion of something that didn’t exist. Because now we were close to it, but it was still so tall and steep that the proportions seemed off somehow. The snowy, sharp peaks of the mountain couldn’t even be seen amongst the thick gray clouds that covered the top of it.

We had only traveled a few hundred feet in the valley before the mountain, before I could see something approaching us. Before long, the dark, muddy shapes turned into large creatures, and then I could see that small men rode atop of them. They were boars, I realized. At the time, I thought the boars were just incredibly big and the men were the size of men.

“Are those pigs?” I heard Clidale ask behind me.

Calk chuckled. “The boars are native to this land, and the gnome folk have been taming and breeding them for generations. They are fiercely stubborn creatures but also extremely intelligent.”

As the group approached us, I could not stop staring. The gnome folk looked strange—with the heads of grown men but the body sizes of children. The group wore similar garments—with green hoods and brown leathers. The group also seemed armed—but with what, I could not say. They held wooden boxes with a string and an attachment in the front and a strange handle in the back. I could tell they were weapons because each device had a sort of bolt cocked against a string already.

As they grew even closer, the sounds of the boars grew louder. They snuffled and snorted as they walked, and they seemed larger than normal with huge tusks, but perhaps it was just the difference in size that made them seem so. They were bare besides small saddles that were strapped from back to belly.

The gnome in the front of the group, took off his hood and jumped off his mount. It was a quick, purposeful movement, and I remember being surprised by his athleticism.

The gnome stood on the ground, looking up at us. Under the green hood was a stern face and an unruly head of gray hair. The gnome had a thick red beard, and his green eyes looked at Calk. While the rest of him seemed human--at least in terms of his arms, legs and structure of his face, if not the size--his eyes did not. They were larger--and they almost seemed to reflect the light of the day like a stone.

Strangely, he didn’t say anything. I sensed deep patience in those eyes, and something about them reminded me of Calk himself. Calk stared back at the gnome with his own heavy dose of patience.

After a few moments, the gnomes behind the one in front of us began to fidget, and I could tell that the confrontation made them uncomfortable. I realized then that the other gnomes looked younger than the one in the front.

Their faces were unworn by wrinkles and the sun; and in turn they looked at us differently. There was no curiosity in the older gnome who stared at us, but the others looked as surprised to see us as we were to see them.

“You said you would not come back.” The gnome in the front spoke the words slowly, and I could sense an old anger in him. I found myself looking at their weapons, and a nervous twinge ran through my gut.

For a moment, Calk didn’t say anything, but then he heaved a great sigh. “I said I would not come back unless your people needed me.”

The gnome laughed, but it was not a happy sound. He reached his hand to his waist, and I saw that his small hand tightened on the hilt of a sword. Something about the pommel drew my eye to it. It was a small metal skull. The tension in the air was palpable now, and violence felt close like the snap of a taut string.

“We made a deal.” He gestured behind himself to the city with his free hand. “Man—or whatever you are—has never made something like Glimmith. It’s been a long time since we’ve needed help.”

Calk stiffened, and his eyes flashed angrily, as if the gnome had said some grave insult. “I would caution you to speak more carefully, Naro. You know nothing of our cities.”

The gnome—I had gathered from their exchange that his name was Naro—looked away for a moment, as if he couldn’t be bothered by the dangerous shift in Calk’s tone.

“I know of your cities, or what was left of them.” Then without waiting for a reply, Naro whistled and his men turned around.

“I will bring you to the king.” And the column proceeded ahead of us. Naro waited and as the wagon pulled forward, he walked behind us, keeping his stoney emerald eyes on Calk.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

We crossed the valley and reached the city wall. Even the wall of the city was a work of art. The design of the wall—as I looked to the left and right—was as if the gnomes had simply poured an entire wall of metal. The metal itself seemed purer somehow than any other metal I had seen before, as it was a bright silver instead of a dirty gray.

Perhaps even more amazing than the shine of the metal was the huge gems that were inset into the wall itself. I realized there was a pattern of them in the wall—shining brightly with reflected purple light. But as I looked closer, I saw that they were not truly reflecting the light, but that they were pulsing with some sort of light within.

Calk pointed at them. “Mana gems.” Calk had a hungry look in his eye, and I could tell he wanted one of them for himself.

But while the gems amazed me, I was also drawn to the strange build of the wall. Going up from the foundation of the wall, which was seven feet or so, I could see holes and hidden faces looking down at me.

I realized then that due to their size, the gnomes might have a particular advantage if an army tried to attack their walls. They could peek down and shoot out, and it looked like they were stacked on top of each other, perhaps with beams in between or even corridors. Their smaller size would allow a considerable density of them to defend the wall from taller invaders.

Despite the gems and the holes—or perhaps because of them—I wondered how many men it would take to breach the walls or if it could even be achieved at all. The metal seemed impervious, and if some sort of magic emanated from the gems to strengthen it, I could not imagine the wall ever coming down. It looked as if the Gnomish people expected war. And from what I had learned so far of their past, I couldn’t blame them.

Two metal gates laced with runes and delicate carvings, swung open. I expected noise and to be confronted with the normal chaos of a city. But as we moved through the gate, we were only greeted by silence. That is not to say that there were no gnomes to watch us enter. No, they were everywhere—crowded in the street, on top of buildings, and everywhere that I looked. But they were quiet and staring.

I looked over the people in front of us and tried to meet the eyes of a few. Most were young—in that most of them looked like children to my eye—but a few of them seemed older, like Naro, with long beards and long hair.

It was hard for me to tell which were children and which were adults. It was as if there were only children and old men. To me, it was hard to see the gradient of age in them. But between all of them, I could feel an intense childlike curiosity fill the air. One of the smaller gnomes started walking towards us, but a larger one—perhaps the parent—reached out and grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pulled him back. It was as if some spectacle had suddenly appeared, and they could not believe it or come to terms with it.

A loud sound cut through the air, and I realized it must be some type of instrument. The note vibrated and blared, and the Gnomish folk all turned towards the noise. Then, almost simultaneously, they began to part. This time, instead of boars, a coterie of gnomes on horses moved forward.

Each gnome was clothed in red robes with gold trim, and gold writing seemed to be etched everywhere in the robes. There were four of them—two with long white flowing beards that trailed off the horses, and two with no beards at all, but long white hair that did the same.

They all wore crowns, but not crowns like I had imagined. They were thin lacey creations, so silver and white it seemed as if the metal was woven into their hair. I had never seen such finery in my life, and I knew without a doubt that these gnomes were the nobles of their people.

They rode up to us as their people cleared, and all four looked at our party. One gnome in the front of the four had a terrible scar across his face. It cut right through his bushy eyebrow down to the left part of his jaw. Attached to the side of his horse was a huge leather scabbard, and after a moment, I realized that it did not hold a sword, but instead an ax. The gnome now rested his hand on it as he stared at Calk.

“Frost mage,” he grumbled in a deep voice. Although his beard and hair were white, he did not seem old or frail. His skin still held a vibrancy, although I could somehow tell that, like Naro, this gnome had a certain presence of age. His big eyes seemed bored, even with the deep frown on his face. “Why have you come?”

“Now, is that any way to greet an old friend, King?” Calk asked. Somehow, he managed to sound both friendly and sarcastic. I could tell that Calk was mocking the man.

The female gnome next to the man, to his right, seemed to think so. She visibly flinched at Calk’s words. She raised a hand, and hardly a split second later, we were suddenly surrounded by sharp spears.

These gnomes that surrounded us with their weapons looked different from the others in the crowd. They looked old—like the ones atop horses—but instead of robes, they were clad in bright silver armor that reminded me of the wall. A material akin to something between metal and stone. And like the wall, their armor held gems, in the chest, arms, and even legs. Their helms were sharp and pointed with a strange curve, and I couldn’t even see eyes within their dark visors.I had not seen them approach and it was as if they had appeared out of the crowd from nowhere.

The gnomen king still looked bored and showed no sign that anything of significance had occurred before him. He lifted his hand a fraction above his waist and turned it.

Spears flew in the air back to a straight position, and armor clanked and shuffled over and over. Then, in only a moment, everything was still again, as if the threat of violence had never existed.

“My wife is not used to insults given so freely.” The gnome turned to his wife and gave her a small smile. I could sense her anger at what Calk had said, and perhaps at her husband’s dismissal. She stared at Calk as if she wanted to kill him herself. “Rosalie is a fine queen. But she does not take insults to her king kindly. I would suggest you not make another.”

Calk grinned. He didn’t seem scared of the king or his smoldering wife. But the joke had been said, and he was none the worse for it. “It has been some time, has it not, King? Last I saw you, you were but a prince.”

“Aye, that I was. Unlike your kind, we are not immortal. But we are old enough to not forget who our enemies are.” The king’s eyes narrowed, and with that, he turned away from us.

One of the other gnomes in red, bowed to us. “The king will attend to you later. You will come with me to your quarters.”