~Thorben~

“What?!” Asked Thorben.

“Exiled?!” Shouted Tanrin.

“Only temporarily,” Danar said. “The council decided that while your actions may be understandable, they aren’t acceptable. They feel they need to send a message. The dwarven council will not allow our society to slip back into its violent past. They considered your youth and history of misbehavior, and determined that the consequence was a temporary exile to last no less than one year.”

“This is bullshit!” Thorben said. “What were we supposed to do? Dorn has been doing this shit for years!”

“You were supposed to analyze, adapt, and overcome! Not beat untrained whelps to a pulp for personal satisfaction! You were supposed to grow up! You were supposed to prove worthy of the training you received.” Shouted Kari, bringing everyone to silence. “You were supposed to be better than those who have embraced ignorance.” Her voice faded to just a whisper as a tear slowly glided down her cheek. “You were supposed to put childish pranks aside as you reached closer to the age of maturity, and make the Deepiron clan proud, to make me proud.”

Kari composed herself, as Danar embraced her in a hug. “You instead indulged in childish pranks over and over again. You chose to fight and attempt to defeat hate and ignorance with physical force. You tried to solve every problem with a blacksmith’s hammer. There are other tools! You chose your path, despite our counsel. You now must embrace the consequences of your actions.”

* Thorben and Tanrin glanced at each other. Mother had never shown this much emotion. “I hope you learn lessons, that I could never pound into your heads while out in the world. We have three days to get your affairs in order. I love you. I hope you come back to us, but we will not be accompanying you in your exile. Goodnight.” With that, their mother walked into her bedroom, and they could hear soft sobs on the other side of the door.

Danar had dismissed them shortly after their mother’s words. Both boys were in a state of shock and hadn’t heard a word their father had said after she left. As Thorben lay in bed, he couldn’t help but replay his mother’s words in his head. He couldn’t remember ever hearing his mother cry. She was a rock that held fast through it all. How had he not seen it? How had he not realized the path he was on?

“Tanrin, you awake?” Asked Thorben. Since their early childhood, they had held conversations through air tunnels in the cavern. It had been the method of communication through countless arguments, plots, and romantic problems.

“No way I could sleep after today. You okay?”

“Okay? No. Just thinking. All of this is because of me,” Thorben said. “An elf, living in a world that is not mine. If I hadn’t been here, none of this would have happened. You, mom, and dad wouldn’t be living this nightmare. Ya know?” Silence met Thorben. His guilt was eating away at him. He’d caused his family pain and somehow needed to make it right. Even if it meant he couldn’t be a part of it anymore. He wallowed in his thoughts until his door burst open and Tanrin calmly walked in. “You didn’t need to come over. The vent would have been fine.”

Without a word, Tanrin walked over with fists clenched. As he neared, Thorben saw a look in his eyes that he hadn’t ever seen before. With no hesitation, Tanrin punched Thorben in the face. Tears began falling from his brother’s eyes as he brought his fist down onto his face several times more. Tanrin gripped Thorben’s night shirt with a raised fist, and Thorben could grab his brother’s wrist before it further readjusted his face. He also clutched his own nose, which, along with his lip, was bleeding profusely. After a dozen heartbeats, he’d got his brother off of him. “What the hell, Tanrin?” Tanrin’s rage calmed to a degree. His fist unclenched, but the look remained. Thorben leaped up and grabbed a dirty shirt to hold to his freely bleeding nose.

“Listen closely, because I won’t ever repeat this,” Tanrin said with a voice that brooked no argument, “Don’t you ever say that self-pitying bullshit where I can hear it ever again. Ever. We are a family. We are brothers. Our parent’s love us both equally. These are truths etched in stone. You might face challenges and blood might not tie us, but if you ever diminish us again, I won’t stop swinging until my arms fall off. We clear?”

The Deepiron clan home had been in the clan since the dwarves first inhabited the mountain. The history of the clan was carved into the walls of the family room. Tanrin wasn’t lying when he said his familial status was etched into stone.

Thorben nodded dumbly. “Good. See you at breakfast,” Tanrin said as he hurried back out the door. Thorben lay there wondering what the hell had just happened until he faded off to sleep clutching a bloody shirt to his nose.

During the night, the shirt had fallen to the ground. Tanrin must not have broken his sense of smell along this his nose because the smell of bacon and eggs enticed Thorben from his slumber. Though the act of sniffing the pleasant aroma caused him to flinch in pain. He quickly dressed and made his way to the kitchen. “Good Morning, Mom.” Thorben said as he hugged his mother from behind and kissed her cheek, suppressing another wince, as she prepared his favorite breakfast. Poached eggs, crispy bacon, hash browns, and fresh fruit were a feast delivered straight from the gods. There was even a kettle of caife ready to drink.

“Good morning, son. Made things right with your brother yet?” She asked without a backward glance. Not giving him time to reply, she continued, “Need some salve for your nose?” Thorben could tell by the tone of her voice that she was telling him what to do but in a way that should ease the sting of his mistake. She turned to face him and the gleam in her eyes let him know that while she was guiding him, she also intended to have a little fun at his expense.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

How’d she know? I swear she can read minds!

“No Thor, I can’t read minds,” Kari said with a wink. “I guess I can let the secret out now that you will make your way into the world shortly.” She looked around as if checking for eavesdroppers and leaned closer. In a lowered voice, she whispered, “Messages are easily intercepted when delivered through air tunnels.” She winked.

Thor, he sighed. Only mom called him that. Whenever it was a conversation between the two of them, she would use that nickname.

“You heard us last night?”

“Yup,” his mother said with a smirk.

Thorben’s brain caught up with him as he sipped his caife. “Wait, could you hear us all these years?”

“Yup,” she said again.

“Yab’s brewery?” He asked.

“Yup,” she said, her smirk growing into a flat out grin.

“Mairdeth Bloodhammers’ daughters?” He heard his voice say with a gulp.

“Yup,” she said. Her grin faded slightly and her eyes bore into his own for a moment before the grin returned.

“Torbryn Rockjaw’s wine cellar?”

A nod. “I still don’t understand why you selected last year’s vintage, when he had amazing, high-end, 10 years aged bottles just down the way. Live and learn, I guess.”

Holy crap! They’d known almost everything. He’d file that trick away for if he ever had kids. He wasn’t sure if he wanted ankle biters or not, or if he would ever meet a mate, but you never know. The caife now flowing through his veins like mom would say brought him back to the topic at hand. “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said last night.” Thorben said softly. “I’m just scared and angry. If Dorn wasn’t such a bigot, much of this wouldn’t be happening. I know I haven’t been the best son, and I’m sorry.”

Thorben watched his mom gather her words for a moment and waited respectfully, nibbling at his breakfast. “Thor, moms know,” she said. He put his fork down and looked her in the eyes. “We know our children, and their ways. We can distinguish between words spoken in anger and words spoken in truth. We know when things are intentional and when they aren’t. We know the potential you have. We know, and not only do we know, we love. We love you throughout every aspect of life’s journey. We love you no matter how difficult you make it.” Kari lifted his chin to gaze into his eyes. “We don’t want the ‘best’ son. We simply want you to be the best that you can be, but we love you no matter what. I will always love you.”

“I love you too, mom. I’ll make this right. I promise.”

“I know you will, Thor. Now eat quickly and get to the smithy. Fathers love their kids just as much as mothers, but they are quicker to throttle you if they feel it’s warranted. Your brother is already there.”

Shit. He shoveled his food into his mouth and dashed out their home cave door. As he sprinted down the tunnel, he heard his mom chuckle.

He made good time, and entered the smithy panting, but quickly put his apron over his head and tied it securely. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” Danar said as Thorben finished getting ready. “Get enough beauty rest? Feeling pretty enough to help? Need time to adjust your cosmetics?”

Thorben meekly apologized and checked his surrounding to see what needed to be done. The coal fire looked to be on the verge of needing attention, so he quickly went to the bellows and stoked it. Tanrin walked by with a shovel full of coal. Thorben caught his eye and whispered, “never again, brother.” Tanrin gave a nod and went about his business. That was the thing about being brothers. Very few words were needed. It was as if their very souls could communicate with actions and looks.

As they worked, it was as if the labor was a further salve to their souls. The banter and sense of accomplishment did a lot to heal any rifts that had developed. Finally, it was midday and time to eat. Danar banked the coals and announced they were going to take their meal.

When Danar returned from grabbing their meals, they sat in the smithy’s corner and divided out the food. As they ate, a fog of silence descended. It wasn’t necessarily an uncomfortable silence, but seemed more as if no one knew what to say. Each of them struggling to find the words to communicate how they felt. Dwarves, especially the men, seldom shared their feelings. This applies equally to those raised by dwarves. Eventually, Danar broke the silence. “Things are going to be difficult, boys. I won’t be there to help, but know that you are capable. I am proud of the men you can grow into. I am proud of who you are. I have reached out to various people, sent some correspondences, and done what I can to aid you in your journey. Your mother and I will spend the next couple of days doing whatever else we can, but no matter what, know that we believe in you. Know that you can do this. Above all, know that we love you.” They finished the meal in a solemn silence and worked through the rest of the day. Thorben savored every moment.

The next couple of days went quickly. Work in the smithy in the morning, afternoons training with their mom, and traveling packs put together in the evening. Goodbyes were said to friends and clansmen alike. Before anyone knew it, it was time for them to leave the foothills and make their way in Baherune on their own.

“We’ve arranged for transport to Ingwood. With your knowledge and work ethic, you should be able to get by. Trust each other, and drain each experience for all it’s worth. Come back to us as soon after a year has passed that you feel your exile should end. I love you.” Kari said in a tight voice. She hugged them each and faded back into the crowd. Dwarves were strict on honor. They could return after a year, when they felt their honor permitted it.

Danar shook both of their hands, holding on and looking them each in the eye. “There you each have enough coin to last a couple of moons, if you are smart with it.” The tattoos on their hand glowed briefly. They were amazing magical advancements, allowing for the carry and trading of coin without the need to carry all the physical coins on their person. “The weapons on your back and belt should serve you well. They are plain as to not draw attention. Your packs are ready for travel, and you have the skills you need. Your mother and I love you both. Thorben, in your pack, you will find a letter. All we ask is that you don’t read it until you reach Ingwoood. We have and will always think of you as our son. We have been secretive about your origins, not out of shame but out of a lack of knowledge. In the letter, you will find all that we know, and some of what we suspect, of your origins. I want you to know that no matter what, you are our son. Come back to us. Goodbye my sons.” With those words, Danar turned and walked back to the smithy. Thorben wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light, but he could have sworn he saw a tear as his father turned.

“Well, here we go. Shall we Tanrin?” Thorben asked in a thick voice.

“We shall, Thorben. Let’s go.” Tanrin responded just as morosely.

The brothers loaded the wagon, and their journey to Ingwood began.