With the sudden arrival of an old friend, things got a bit hectic, to say the least. I wish he would have waited a few minutes until after Sylvia’s speech so as not to lessen the impact of it, but what’s done was done. Squeaks was here now, and that’s all that mattered.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” I asked. “A little over seven years have passed since we parted.”

The Dwarf sat across from me in a chair in the backroom of the audience hall. He scratched his beardless chin and nodded. “That sounds about right,” Squeaks said in a high-pitched voice. Something that was entirely abnormal for a Dwarf.

The real question is, what’s normal about him? Not that I’m one to comment. I’m hardly typical myself.

“I’m sorry it took so long to get to you. I had a lot going on, and it took a while to pinpoint your location,” I explained.

Squeaks nodded, seemingly unbothered by it. “Pinpoint? Whatever that means, it doesn’t matter. I was expecting to spend the rest of my life that way, so it doesn’t bother me, Kal. And I’ve heard all about it since I got out. Slayin Dragons, killing Wyrms, and becoming the hero of the continent, huh?”

For a man who has seemingly been enslaved for years, he doesn’t appear to have much trauma. Or even seem all that distressed. Squeaks was the same man I had left behind all those years ago.

“It just sort of happened,” I said sheepishly.

Squeaks hopped out of his chair and, in one swift motion, lunged at me. I felt his hand grasp my inner thigh, and I almost yelped in surprise. “Uh, huh…yeah…so you used it, eh? Did it work? It must have, considering you are right here in front of me,” he asked as he dug further into me.

“Hey! Hold on, what are you doing?! Just wait a moment, gah, ah, yes, it worked, stop! But, please, I’ll tell you everything,” I begged.

Squeaks’ hands receded, and he shrugged. “No need for a report. I already know it worked and how I did it. Although it was a bit of a gamble, it all worked out in the end .”

I take that all back. His sense of personal space may have been warped to hell from being a slave.

“You gambled with etching runes into the body of a child?” I asked hesitantly.

He looked up at me and raised muscles where his eyebrows would be. “I think the times were desperate enough. Don’t you agree?”

“Well, you aren’t wrong about that. But, regardless, I’m thankful. Your technique of making runes on the skin saved me in my most crucial moment. It’s what allowed me to escape and eventually regain my freedom.”

Both of us stayed quiet for a moment, watching each other. I looked around the room at Sylvia and Mila sitting quietly in a chair together. “It’s because of you that I got to see new things, meet new people, and be reunited with my family again. Thank you, Squeaks, for pulling me out of that dark abyss all those years ago. If it wasn’t for you, I might have given up on life,” I said sincerely.

Squeaks grumbled a few things to himself as he scratched his cheek. “You’ve changed a lot from the awkward grumpy kid I last met. That’s a good thing, though,” he said fondly. But his eyes lingered on Sylvia for a long time. “Seems you didn’t take my warnings to heart. You even tossed them out the window and stepped on them on the way out.”

“You can say what you want about me but leave her and my child out of it. I care deeply for her and owe Sylvia for saving my life as well,” I said sternly.

Squeak’s neck snapped toward me with a look of surprise. He looked back over to Sylvia and Mila and slowly nodded to himself. “Yeah, alright, I understand. Sorry, it’s just that I’ve never seen a Vampire like that before.”

“For starters, her name is Sylvia. But I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me, and I would love to recount my life story, but—”

Squeaks waved me away. “Nah, not at all interested. I’ve heard enough about you in the last few months to drive me insane. Dragonslayer this, benefactor that, handsome Elf here. I got sick of it after the first few weeks. You can write a book, and I’ll read it later or something.”

Oh…handsome Elf? Who's calling me handsome? Is it Bella or Veme? One of the guys? No, it’s probably Bella…and a book, huh?

“You are probably more curious about me. Since I’m feeling generous, today I’ll allow you to ask me any questions,” he said as he sat deeper into his chair.

“Well, how about how we start with—”

The door to the room burst open, and a tired-looking Bowen walked straight in. “Master Mountainbreaker, it really is you, isn’t it? I heard you had gone missing for years!”

Squeaks squinted at Bowen for a long time, not saying anything. Then the metaphorical light came to his eyes, and Squeak nodded. “Ah, it’s you, huh? You got old. Didn’t recognize you with that beard, Bow.”

“Where have you been? You just disappeared from the world all of a sudden!” Bowen asked frantically.

It seemed Bowen knew Squeaks, and that’s when things started to piece together for me. Bowen had worked with a Runesmith long ago to create the anti-monster wards. It must have been Squeaks who helped him.

“I went into a self-imposed exile for the atrocities I had committed against the world. And now I am free thanks to a person I helped enslave,” Squeaks explained in simple terms.

Bowen looked confused as well as he stared down at the bald Dwarf. His lips moved, but no words came out until a soft ah left his mouth.

“And what atrocities are those? And Master Mountainbreaker? Who are you exactly, Squeaks?” I asked.

Squeaks took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I was a Forgemaster, one of the best there ever was,” Squeaks said without a hint of bravado. “When I was young, I was working on an anti-magic type of clothing sewn out of small wires made of Blood Iron for my half-brother, the king. I wanted to give regular people and soldiers a chance to survive against powerful mages. It was a challenge in itself to get Blood Iron to take on the form of a wire, but through years of trial and error, I finally managed to create an alloy that was malleable enough while still maintaining the anti-magic properties. However, the intended purpose of my invention was lackluster at best, and I scrapped the project and all but forgot it.”

Forgemaster? That’s the highest authority of all the Dwarven blacksmiths. And a half-brother to the king? So that means Squeaks is royalty? I had no idea…

Squeaks sat there and stared off into the corner of the room with blank eyes. “One day, I went to investigate a new mine of Mythril. It was a joyous occasion. A Mythril mine is incredibly rare and sought out by everyone under the mountains. It was expected to supply us with a half year’s worth of materials, a real boon during the war. But when I arrived there, I found slaves toiling away in the mines. It wasn’t uncommon to see them but to have an entire mine worked by them was not a regular occurrence. It was also then that I noticed they lacked the thick red collars that were synonymous with slaves. That should have been illegal, and the mine would have undoubtedly been shut down until someone came and fixed it. But a colleague of mine had used my invention, and with it, he created a cheap, mass-producible version of slave collars that did away with the usual hunk of metal and, with a single Vampire, could be easily transformed into an Obedience Collar.”

“That’s…hardly your fault. You didn’t mean for that to happen,” Sylvia said quietly.

Squeaks looked at her and shook his head. “No, it was my fault. All my fault,” he said solemnly. “At that moment, something snapped in me. I realized I had created something so grave as to rob hundreds of people of their freedom with ease. I turned all of those people into mindless sacks of meat, no better than the undead that wander the mines. And how many more would I affect in the future? The answer was thousands of people, and those are just the ones I encountered. I can’t sleep sometimes thinking about the countless faces I doomed to a pitiful existence. It was my fault that I let that invention go and that it was used in such a way. If I had been more prudent…explored more options with it…I would have realized what I had created and never unleashed it into the world.”

Squeaks…he really is a good man. I already knew he was, considering he saved and protected me back then. It took a kind man with a bleeding heart to help a starving child in a situation like ours. I just had no idea as to the depths his scars ran.

“So you went into exile,” Bowen muttered.

“I did. I voluntarily went into slavery with the condition that for me to be free that I would have to be set free by someone who was a slave that I had met. Someone whose life’s course was altered by my actions. I wouldn’t allow myself to walk amongst others again as a free man otherwise,” Squeaks said finally. But he turned his eyes to me. “But that all changed thanks to Kaladin. I was ready to spend the rest of my life in chains if that’s what it took to repent. But now, my life doesn’t seem to be heading that way. And even though I’ll spend the rest of my life span atoning, I would like to honor Kaladin’s accomplishments and my initial promise to myself and my brother.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

“I see… I understand,” Bowen said with a soft smile.

“Good to know. I’m happy that I could fulfill your promise,” I told him.

Squeaks smiled back at us. “Yeah, and—”

“Wait! Squeaks!” Sylvia said as she practically jumped out of her chair. She walked right over to him and extended an arm. “Then join us. Join the Dragonheart Foundation. If you were able to alter slave collars for the first time in hundreds of years and make them easier to use, and you helped Kaladin escape his Obedience Collar…that means you can help destroy them, right? What better way to atone than to help us bring slavery to its knees?”

A brave and smart decision, Sylvia…I guess she was more prepared than I was.

Squeaks looked at her hand for a long time. Sylvia started to fidget slightly, and the entire room held its breath. Even Mila watched with bated breath.

“What better way…” he mumbled under his breath as he crossed his arms.

He turned slightly and looked at me. “I planned on helping you out anyway…but since this Vampire is with you…er I mean, Sylvia, that means you are a part of this Dragonheart Foundation? The same one that helped those children?”

“I am. And yes, together, we saved you and those children, and we intend to do much more than that in the future. She’s the foundation's president, and I’m the vice president,” I explained. “We should warn you, Squeaks, you will be making a lot of enemies by joining us.”

Squeaks snorted and grinned. “Enemies? I have plenty of those. What's a few more to a Dwarf like me, huh?”

Squeaks grabbed Sylvia by the forearm and shook her arm with a bit more force than she first seemingly expected. But the shaking evened out as Sylvia’s arm flexed with power, and she shook back. “Welcome to the Dragonheart Foundation, Master Mountainbreaker. Or is it Prince Mountainbreaker?” Sylvia said with a smile.

He shook his head. “Nah, it’s just Squeaks. That’s who I am now, Ms. President.”

“Squeaks then,” Sylvia said as she pulled away from him.

The Dwarf wiped his bald head with his sleeve and let his shoulder sag. “Never thought I’d be working for a Vampire and a Dragonslayer in my entire life. Let alone a powerful Vampire and former slave…life is one crazy adventure,” Squeaks muttered.

“That’s all well and good, but I also have a favor to ask you, Squeaks. I hope you won’t decline it,” I asked of him.

Squeaks straightened up to his full height. I used to be much smaller than him, but now I had to look down at the man. Not in the sense of superiority or anything. I was just that much taller than him.

“I want you to take on an apprentice. I have someone, a brother of mine, who is more than capable of being a Runesmith one day. I want you to try and guide him. I don’t think he will disappoint you,” I said.

“A future Runesmith…huh…I don’t mean to quench your fire, Kal, but making that judgment without proof is nearly impossible. I’ve had hundreds of parents come and beg me to teach their little future Runesmith, and not a single one could hold the tools, let alone produce a working rune,” he explained.

“Don’t worry. I’ve confirmed it now. He has the aptitude, natural talent, and drive to be a Runesmith. I swear it,” I said firmly.

That’s right…now that I’ve seen another Runesmith, I’ve all but confirmed my theory. The marks on their souls, on their hands to be precise, must indicate that one has the ability to be a Runesmith. And both Padraic and Squeaks have that marking.

“Well, let me see him. I’ll be the judge of that,” Squeaks said as he crossed his arms.

I waved Mila over to me and bent down to her level. “Could you go get Uncle Paddy for me? Please?”

Her serious expression bloomed into a smile, and she raced straight out of the room and into the hallway in a flash. “Uncle Paddy! Daddy needs you!” she shouted.

“Uncle! Uncle what?! Who told you that name?! Kaladin! You bastard, you traitorous bastard!” a voice shouted from the hallway.

I just laughed.

I could hear the short thumpy steps of a Dwarf as Padraic glared at me through the doorway. But that glare disappeared the moment his eyes met with Squeaks. “Huh, a Dwarf with white hair. Are you a part of the Whitehammer Clan, my friend?”

Padraic whipped the surprise off his face and entered into his rarely-seen serious mode. “No sir, I am a member of the Whitehelm Clan. My father’s name is Yoman from the same clan.”

“Ah…never heard of him or your clan. Must be some different bastard’s branch…no offense,” Squeaks said with a quick nod.

Padraic let out a grunt like somebody had punched him in the stomach. He looked emotionally damaged but, as a testament to his social skills, managed to continue. “I understand. We are simply a tiny branch family, nothing to be concerned about. It’s an honor to be in your presence, Lord Mountainbreaker.”

Squeaks observed Padraic and grunted. “I liked the yelling and weird version of you better. I’m a lot more comfortable talking freely like that these days, so bring that guy back, and we can work things out, huh? Besides, any brother of Kaladin is a friend of mine.”

Padraic’s grin slowly grew as he extended his hand. “I got it. It’s good to meet you, Squeaks, was it?”

“That’s right. Before we do this, tell me what you want to do if I train you,” Squeaks said, his voice high pitched as ever but deathly serious.

Padraic kept his arm out and adopted a more serious atmosphere again. “I want to keep my promise to my brother. I want to make him legendary gear befitting his title of Dragonslayer. I want to make the best items in the world using the best materials for him and my loved ones. I just want to protect them as they’ve protected me.”

Squeaks grabbed Padraic’s arm, and the two shook. “No promises about you being a Runesmith. But since you took the words out of my brain, I think you and I can get along.”

“Perfect. I already have all the items prepared. You are going to explode the moment you see them,” Padraic chuckled.

“Oh, ho, ho, I bet. If they came from Kal over here, they must be truly legendary items for a legendary man,” Squeaks chuckled back in his high-pitched voice.

“Ah…what about me? Can I join in? I would like to be a part of this…” Bowen muttered helplessly.

There was a loud knock on the walls, and all eyes turned to it. A young man wearing a bright red and gold uniform was sweating profusely. He quickly snapped to attention. “An important letter to Lord Taurus! You are being summoned to the Paine estate immediately! Lady Taurus has gone into labor!”

Bowen paled at the news, his eyes wide with shock.

Today is just full of surprises.

—

The school banquet was a complete disaster for all the right reasons. It was primarily due to Squeak’s abrupt arrival, but that wasn’t a disaster but a blessing. A part of me was worried that the man might have died before I could save him, but all my fears were for nothing.

It was also an unbelievable turn of events. I had initially hoped to have him just be Padraic’s mentor, but for Squeaks to join the Dragonheart Foundation was a surprise, to be sure. And it was all thanks to Sylvia’s quick thinking.

Later down the line, we could have invited him but doing it in the heat of the moment and convincing him on the spot was amazing. Sylvia was already blooming into her position as president of the foundation. Perhaps her royal blood is starting to awaken.

No, it’s not. She’s always been able to do things like this. She once convinced me to go into the depths of a dungeon just for some gold. Changing my life forever.

It was also great news to hear that the Taurus family was able to welcome a healthy baby boy to their family. According to JD, who relayed the information, the childbirth went well, and there were no complications thanks to the Paine’s family medicine and light magic. Both mother and son were alive and healthy and were resting together at home with Bowen.

Maybe in a few days, I’ll make it a goal, and we can visit them. The Taurus family has been nothing but amazing to me and everyone else. Giving them a gift and congratulations is in order. As for the mentor and student…they are busy…and it seems an unlikely person has joined them.

“Sylas? Are you okay?” I asked as I poked the barely moving body slumped over the table.

It’s only been two days since Squeaks arrived, and Bowen gave them a shop to work in at the university. The entire place is a mess.

The body of Sylas stirred, and he looked up at me with bloodshot, sleepy eyes. He proceeded to grumble out incoherent noises that vaguely sounded like words. Only to slump back down into his desk of books.

The forge in the corner of the room was cold and quiet. Padraic was sprawled out face-first on the ground. He had a hammer in one hand, snoring to his heart’s content. Unfortunately, Squeaks was not in better condition as he lay in a pile of large black lizard scales that looked ready to crush him if he turned wrong. He was dead asleep as well.

“Did they really stay up for two whole nights just working? Aren’t they—hey…what? Wait a second,” I said to myself as I bent down.

I had accidentally run into something soft lying across the floor under a tarp. I threw the tarp aside, and a man with long curly brown hair was rolled up into his black and gray robes, also sleeping soundly, drool rolling down his face.

Bowen? Did…shouldn’t he be with his wife and son? What…what is going on here?