6th of Sanctrosanct, 1255th of the First Age.
“Hello there!” As I peeked out from behind the coverage of the imposing tree with ethereal leaves, there she stood with a visage that I still have a hard time describing when it comes to its beauty. Graceful calm eyes of myriad hues constantly shifted with pupils akin to what dragon’s possess as I heard from the tales of mother and father back then. Sharp long and thin brows in a straight line above them gave her an air of weightiness. A small, dainty nose that puffed out even though neither of us needed to breathe in this place.
Long ashen red hair that filled me with warmness as I noticed how each strand flowed naturally even as they bonded together and twisted at her frail appearing shoulders. Her neck encased in a dance of similarly prismatic scales that shifted in all the hues as she moved closer to me akin to a new owner of a frightened pet.
“Don’t worry. I won’t bite.” She said as her wide lips curved into a faint smile, their luster even then drew my eyes, my gaze to them.
“I’m Luelia. What is your name?” I quivered a little as she got closer and her beauty both terrified and enamored me at the same time. At the time I didn’t know why my heart beat so quick and strong, but now I know that was me felling for her.
“Sigiwaer.” I inhaled twice, my small, adorable fists – as mother used to refer to them when I got angry – curled up and tightened as I practically yelled at her. That made her stop in her tracks and while at the time I couldn’t decipher her seemingly stark expression, now I know she got scared a little realizing that this was more than a simple dream. She recently told me that a part of her knew it wasn’t just a dream, but that it was the Fateweaver’s doing for a yet unknown reason. How wrong she was, but neither of us could have known the truth back then.
“But my friends, just call me Sigi.” I told her as I seemingly felt the tingent of fear and confusion. I didn’t want to let her go. I knew then and there that this dream won’t be like the others that just fade from my memory.
“Well then Sigi, do you know where we are?” She asked me while staying in place and with her warm smile that to this day soothes my soul.
“In a dream.” I said. I felt that none of this was real – the surroundings, the soft snow that tickled my barefoot, the harsh yet smooth surface of the trees and the ethereal leaves adorning the maze like branches intertwining endlessly above our heads, bathing us in their hollow lights.
And I noticed the slight shift in her expression – a shift towards surprise. “I can see it.” I mustered my strength after I recalled father’s drunken but kind words as he reminisced once about how he and mother met when he visited one of his injured fellow’s in the healing tent.
Another mild shift happened on her visage as I bravely stepped out. At the time I wasn’t aware, but the bandages that covered a quarter of my head were absent from the dreams, exposing my left eye that He gifted upon me. Before I could realize this though, the world around us faded and I woke up in the warm embrace of my bed as the white sunlight entered my eyes.
**
Eadwald followed after his father – now only a forehead shorter as he entered his young adult years. Both of them were clad in thick, studded leather jerkin with a layered blue and white tunic under it with silvery trims and hem. Their hands rested in a similarly thick leather gauntlet extending into a vambrace while on the lower part the jerkin continued in scaled kilt with woolen pants and muddied leather boots on their feet and legs.
Eadwald couldn’t utter a word in his excitement as they took a sharp turn and then entered a larger structure of stacked grayish blue stones with a wooden rooftop covered in an extra layer of collected pelts. Smoke risen from its center in which a hole was cut precisely, while the insides was like walking through the Six Abysses as the scorching heat of the forge filled the back.
“Ah right on time.” The grizzled looking hogstol dwarf greeted the two. His fair complexion with a hint of metallic silver hue appeared to be a fusion of skin and mithrarh with its refined luster poignant their eyes. Yudmout sat over his heightened chair behind the desk that connected from one end of the wall to the other.
Weapon racks were nailed to the walls, each slotted with swords, maces, axes and long spears. Metallic plates needing to be fitted together, hilts and pommels rested beside the nails and hammer on the desk that separated Yudmout from the two. Above them numerous wooden plates engraved with schematics of armor and weapon designs.
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“Still pretty good at relieving those beasts of their fur.” Without saying a word Ulrich placed the pelt onto the desk. It belonged to a leshy that stalked the nearby woodland southwards of the village. Its fine greenish fur that finely tangled together, under it a bark like skin that was rough as one drawn their hands across it.
“This one was a headache. Telling apart its flesh from its skin proved difficult.” Ulrich said as his frustration resurfaced when he relived the moments of skinning.
From his eye sockets, two brass rings appeared rotating around and above each other as orange runes appeared between them. “I get you friend. In my youth we tended to skin Elemanteiros.”
“Elemanteiros?” Eadwald asked as he leaned on the desk with an interested look on his stubbly handsome face.
“Creatures mostly native to my motherland. They vary in form and size as they range from wild beasts that got changed by the heart of the Hogstark Mountain to fools who thought they could control its powers by standing in its radiating energy.” Yudmout continued his inspection of the pelt before he put it away, then snapped his finger loudly. A bit to their right the wooden retreated into the desk, creating a pathway through and as he jumped down from his chair, he waved his fingers at them to follow.
“Have you fought many of these… Elemanteiros?” Eadwald asked as he was often interested in such tales of valor.
“Quite a lot. One of them even left their mark on me.” He said while pulling back his grayish sleeve revealing his arm that creased even more so than his elderly visage. It was similar to when metal melted a little by heat than suddenly froze leaving behind prominent waves crumpled on top and beside of each other.
“But first, let me show you what your father commissioned for you.” As they entered breathing became hard for Eadwald as the strong heat contained to the back hit Eadwald upon entering. Yudmout walked to the table directly on their right with a woven sheet draped over it. Even through it Eadwald could see the bulging of numerous crafted weapons resting under it akin to a group of children sleeping in a single bed cuddled together.
“Now before I reveal it. Let me ask you a question or two. Just for the sake of my curiosity.” As Eadwald walked towards the table, Yudmout stood in his way and looked up at him with a serious expression.
“What are your aspirations after becoming a famed dragon knight of the Empire? Do you wish to be one to establish your own fame in the annals of history, or is it like your father’s and famed heroes of old tales, to have the power to protect those you hold dearest in your heart?” At those words Eadwald looked at his father who veiled his slight embarrassment by inspecting the blades waiting to be melded together with hilts.
Eadwald exhaled deeply as he mustered his strength to answer as he too felt awkward. Meeting Ulrich’s gaze helped him lessen this poking sensation that obliterated his first words. “In a way yes. But truth be told, my true aim is not just to became a legend children aspire to be, but to be an icon of peace and protector of those in need. It may sound arrogant of me to say this, but, if possible, I’d like to reach a high that is peace on all the lands where good or bad folk live.”
Hearing those words Yudmout snorted while Ulrich felt pride to the point that his eyes became teary a little, while his dry lips bent into a smile. “It is never bad to dream of such things. And deep down I hope you may reach that high in your life boy. But for now focus on the first two besides the present.”
“I will old man.” Eadwald chuckled a little then went silent in awe as he Yudmout revealed the sword he made.
“You see the reason I asked because I got a feeling the Forge-Mother and the Fateweaver guided my hand and dreams through all the processes of making this sword, while I also got an inkling feeling that the Dawn-Father guided your father to those precious metals he bought to me. So excuse me for questioning you like this, but I had to know if all this wasn’t just my delusions. The rest is on you to not waste their gifts.” Yudmout said as he watched proudly as Eadwald tenderly wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the long sword that even he could lift with a single arm’s strength. “Also, don’t call me an old man yet, I’m only a century older than your father.”
While he could hear those words, his mind drifted into two realities. One that was the present as his eyes focused on the masterfully crafted blade in front of his golden eyes. A sword that was sculpted according to the schematics of Xiphos blades of the Impure Legions, yet still had a more brilliant and laxer curve, while even with his untrained eyes, he could see its unnatural sharpness.
The second was his future. Or at least what he envisioned to achieve with mastering the arts of blades with his loyal winged mount he based upon the painting he received from Priernuss a few years ago.
“How is it?” Ulrich asked as Eadwald looked at his own reflection on the seamless surface of the sword’s blade. As his other hand gripped around its long golden handle of scaled leather – radiant runes appeared on its surface, only visible to him.
“Perfect. Thank you Yudmout, thank you Father!” For a mere moment he felt anxious as the realization hit him where he was in life, and how much was before him. But before he could reach the despair that boggles the mind into myriads of uncertainties, he felt relieved and joyous as his smile reinforced itself.