I stared at the door that my father just walked out of while I pondered the implications of what he just did.

“Now, it’s not likely tha’ I’ll be trainin’ ya personally. In fact, it be doubtful that we dwarves be fit ta train ya’.” Thavim said while looking at the ceiling and rocking back and forth on his heels looking very much like the kid who got caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

I started to protest, “But, I’m sure I could--”

“Oh, we’ll teach ya what we know, of tha’ ya can be sure. Like I said, we dwarves won’t be th’ best fit for yer tutoring. Ya use magic different from us, is all.”

“Wait, I’ve been using magic?” I ask slightly flabbergasted.

“Well, how d’ya explain th’ glowin’ swords?” Thavim asked with a slight chuckle.

Now that I think about it, yeah….I suppose that being magic makes sense. I was just thinking of it as a sixth sense, but I suppose if I look at it as magic then I don’t need to invent an entire other sense.

“If we’re using different magic, then how does your magic work?” I ask in reply.

“Well, if I’m holdin’ th’ enchanted sword an’ use th’ spell then I can usually tell tha’ it’s enchanted. Or like in th’ case o’ the sword you brought it, if’n it be especially weak, I migh’ no’ be able ta tell.” Thavim rubs the back of his neck as he makes this revelation. “An’ I can use tha’ one spell ya saw earlier to determine th’ swords element. Doin’ tha’ to a common sword should’n’a produced a result at all, but tis a handy way ta make sure a sword is or ain’t enchanted. Shame it wastes so much mana though. Come ta think on it, why don’tya describe wha’ tis you do exactly. And don’ go skimpin’ on the details like yer ole daddy. I canno’ find th’ righ’ tutor if I don’ know how ye wield magic.”

I describe how all the weapons make themselves known to my periphery like my own personal HUD radar and how just touching the weapons lets me instantly see the outline and color of the enchant.

Thavim goes quiet for many long moments as he stands in contemplation, his hand on his bearded chin and brow furrowed.

“That mae be a problem,” he finally mutters.

“What might?”

“Well son, the way you wield magic is actually more akin to elves than dwarves. An’ in case yer unaware, they’re a wee bit cross with humans a’ the moment, what with th’ war an’ all.”

“War? What war?” I’m genuinely confused. This is the first I’m hearing of a war.

“Ah, I forget already. Th’ son o’ Eric wouldn’tnay been filled in by ‘is parent’s. Th’ elves, y’see, had finally had enough o’ the humans destroyin’ their forests and have finally declared war on th’ humans. Perhaps ‘war’ ain’t quite th’ right term since they’re lookin ta exterminate rather than hinder progress. Ah, but don’ ya worry. I’ve a few favors ta call in ta find ya the tutor ye need.”

Elves are looking to exterminate humans? I mean, I kind of get it. Unchecked humans wrecked the planet I’m originally from but extermination seems a bit too far.

“Wait, back up a moment, do you think I’m part elf?” I ask.

“I only said yer magic is closer ta theirs. In truth, it’s not exactly like theirs either, so no, I don’t think yer part elf. An’ so, while I do try an’ find an elf willing enough ta teach a human whelp, you’ll be learnin’ how we dwarfs do magic. Who knows, maybe ye can do both!” he says with a toothy grin and a slap on my back that smarts.

“It’s no’ th’ detectin’ part o’ magic thas th’ hard part, lad. It’s th’ enchantin! And every race does tha’ bit different. How you detected does give clues as to yer aptitude fer certain aspects o’ magic. Generally speakin, lad, enchanters won’t be goin’ around slingin’ spells like them wizardin’ folk you people have. Yer spells would be put ta better use in makin those around ya stronger than strengthenin yerself.”

“Come, I’ll give you a tour o’ the smithy an’ ya can see fer yerself how we do things.” With that, he thrust open the doors and walks back out into the din of the smithy. I followed after as he walked to the dwarf shoveling coal. Halfway there he beckoned the dwarf over to us. As he got closer it became apparent that his vest and gloves are enchanted.

“Sometimes th’ best enchantments are a light touch. Take a look at his vest and gloves.” I did as he asked and touched each of them in turn. Both contain a central metal portion with a wavy outline in watery blue. I’m guessing these are water enchantments that keep the glove wet which in turn keeps him cool as he shovels coal right into the furnace. Maybe it’s water and not ice because ice directly against the skin would burn or because with enough heat the ice will explode.

“Twas th’ ice burnin them what was th’ problem. If the fire is hot enough to make an ice enchantment explode, the fella with it is already dead.” We walk over to the dwarf hammering atop an anvil, the outline glowing for a brief moment after each hit.

“Wha’ ye see here is ole Ulen both shapin’ a blade while enchantin’ it.”

“How does he decide which element it gets?” I ask wondering about the fiery red outline that's beginning to take shape.

“We all ‘ave our strengths an’ weakness’. Ulen is particularly skilled ‘n flame enchantments.” Thavim put his head right beside mine and indicated to look, “Thas the red lookin’ outline ye can see with each hit. Forgin’ the metal is how we dwarves enchant. Simultaneous.” He straightened back out, “let’s go lad. I’ll get ye set up with yer very own room. I’ve a suspicion it’s gonna take a wee while to find yer tutor proper.” He turned to head out the main set of doors that we originally entered through and I scurry to catch up.

A thought occurs to me as we exit the building. “Can people have multiple attributes?”

“Aye, though it’s fairly rare,” he led the way across the stone hanging bridge to a collection of houses nestled into the wall. The stone suspension bridge was hanging from a slight outcropping in the rock above, no doubt a house positioned directly on top of even that. I eyed the gaps between the stone slabs warily before hurrying across to catch up.

“So that sword my dad traded you...”

“Aye. Th’ one t’ make tha’ piece o’ finery had at least three attributes. Three! Hahaa! I still can’t believe your father would part with it!”

“Couldn’t three separate people enchant the same sword? Like one holding the metal while 3 separate people hammered on it to shape it with enchantments?”

“Were it tha’ easy lad, every dwarf ye see would be traipsin aroun’ with no less than seven enchants!” he exclaimed as he took out a key from his pocket and unlocked the door to a very cookie-cutter like stone house similar to all the ones we’d passed so far. Aside from being entirely made of stone and in the side of a cave wall, it felt very much like the suburbs.

“Welcome to me home, lad. I’ve a spare room where ye’ll be stayin’ while we teach ye what we can and find yer next tutor,” Thavim said as he spun with his hands wide. “Down tha’ hallway there is where ye’ll find yer room with th’ bathroom ‘cross from it. I can’t help ta notice tha’ ye don’t seem ta be carryin’ any luggage.”

My eyes go wide. “All my stuff was in dads pack.”

“Haaaahahaha, good ole Eric. Don’t you fret, lad. We’ll see to havin yer own set o’ everythin’ afore you need to be leavin’,” he pauses for a moment and stares at the floor with both hands on his hips. “Say lad, how well d’ye know yer way around a forge?”

“Not at all, really. Three days ago was to be my first day helping dad with his forge but then he immediately packed up to bring me here.”

“Yer certainly quite young t’ be so composed ‘bout all this,” Thavim narrows his eyes at you for a moment and continues, “How many winters have you known?”

“Only seven thus far.”

“If I’m t’ train ye in dwarven enchantin’, yer gonna have t’ figure out how t’ do some basic smithing first. I’ll find someone today for tha’, so just make yourself comfortable around here for the time bein’,” he says as he waves his hand to indicate the area behind him that surprisingly looked like a normal living room, complete with a sofa and bookshelves. “Can ye read?”

“Sadly, no. We didn’t own any books at all for me to look at.”

“Hmm, that’s troublesome too. I thought Eric was well off in tha’ human town o’ his, but if he can’t even afford study material for a son he values greater than his own life...” he trails off mid thought and then comes back to the conversation, “well, feel free t’ look through my collection o’ books o’er there regardless. Just don’ mess ‘em up so I won’t have to show ye the true strength of a smith.” That last portion was said with a grin and a mock bicep flex, but I don’t think he was joking.

“Right then lad, I’m off. I’ll see you either tonight or brigh’ an’ early tomorrow mornin’.” With that he strode past and out the exit behind me.

Curiosity got the better of me and I decided to check out the books. Maybe some will have pictures. Before I could reach the shelf, however, something caught my eye. More specifically, it made itself known in my periphery.

The couch.

As I neared, my perception of the couch changes – it looks as if it is very soft but is actually made of stone. An experimental pat of my hand reveals that it actually is surprisingly soft. I’m not sure what sort of enchantment this is but to make stone that feel soft to the touch is startling. The couch actually has a double outline. Wispy white and watery blue. Wind and water enchants on stone to achieve a soft tough effect? I don’t know why that seems so odd but it does. But also, wouldn’t this couch be exorbitant in cost? Maybe this is a perk of running a smithy where rare and expensive items that pass through your shop just happen to go missing.

I pull a book from the shelf and open it. Unsurprisingly, it is full of characters that I’ve never seen before. I casually flip through the book hoping for pictures, returning it when finding none, return it to the shelf, rinse and repeat until I find one with pictures. I didn’t typically only read things with pictures before this life, but I honestly can’t make heads or tails of these symbols and am hoping a few pictures here or there could at least provide a little bit of context. It’s not as if Thavim has books meant for teaching children their letters on hand.

I finally find one with diagrams. Less so pictures and more so a how to guide on enchanting, or at least it appears that way. Honestly, this kind of looks like an ‘idiots guide to enchanting’ so it should be just my speed. It has series of pictures with both crossed out portions and check marks next to each series depicting how to do something both correctly and incorrectly. This is a superb find!

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

- Enchantments need to be housed by an object.

Okay, that makes sense.

- If an object deforms to the point where the enchantment is disturbed, the enchant breaks.

Ah. This is the reason for an outline. This way if a sword gets nicked the entire enchantment is fine and the sword can even be sharpened and mended without too much worry. Very practical.

- Enchants must be circular, an open loop will not function.

Interesting. This makes it seem more like circuitry and provides me with more questions than answers. If this is reminiscent of circuitry, then there needs to be an output and an input. For the moment I can assume the output is the object itself. Flame sword → hot blade. Simple enough. Would the input be the user? It does make logical sense since something would have to power it but I thought the whole point of magic was that it did not make logical sense. Although, perhaps that’s merely my prejudiced ideas from another world. Maybe magic here could actually be explained through science.

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The door to the room I was sleeping in burst open startling me awake.

“Mornin’ lad! Up an’ at ‘em!” Thavim was already leaving again, cackling at how he’d startled me awake. I quickly dress and follow him to the kitchen.

“Eat up. Got a long day ‘head o’ ye an’ learnin’ t’ be done.” Arrayed before him on the table was meat. Lots of meat and not much else. There was a bit of bread, so I suppose meat and bread would be alright for breakfast.

“Who did you find to tutor me?” I ask as I begin to fill my plate.

“Ellibelle Pebblebender. Should be able t’ help ye read.” He paused to take another bite of sausage, “After tha’ ye’ll be meetin’ with Thasdrel Greyhide. He be goin’ over smithin’ basics. An’ lastly, Kirsat Chainhelm. Shoul’ be able t’ familiarize ye with enchantin.”

“That does sound like a long day. What language will I be learning to read in?”

“Both common an’ dwarven. I’ve a choice selection o’ books on enchants and smithin’ that’s worth squat if ye can’t read’em,” he indicates with a twirl of his fork toward the bookshelf.

“Oh yeah, I did find one particular book that had diagrams that has already helped immensely, although I do have new questions now.”

“Ha! Fantastic! I could probly answer ‘em, but Kirsat’s so been lookin’ forward to bein able to tutor someone. It’s been a wee bit since th’ last dwarven child was born in these parts.”

“Oh, right, that reminds me. I was so caught up in the whirlwind of finding out magic and dwarves exist and then being swept away to this place that I never properly found out where I was. Dad only called this place “the mountain” and only haltingly at that, but this appears to me as if it’s an entire city. Does it have a name?”

Thavim is pinching the bridge of his nose as if warding off an extremely persistent headache. “I swear tha’ human thinks less o’ usin’ words than golems,” he grumbles. “Aye, this fair city be called Saoghal Feòir. She’s primarily a mine, though a fair bit o’ smithin’ get done here too. An’ naturally, with tha’ bit o’ smithin’ comes th’ portion yer here for: enchantin’.”

He stands up while slapping his knees, “Right lad, I’m to be off. The first tutor shoul’ be here shortly. I called in a few extra favors t’ have them all teach ye here rather than one o’ seven winters traipsin’ all throughout th’ city to each tutor,” he said while busying himself clearing the table. “Dwarves don’ typically seek out knowledge this early in life so it may be quite the experience for them.” Just before he steps out the door he adds, “I’ve asked ’em t’ be patient with ye, an’ I ask o’ ye t’do the same fer them.” Without another word he steps out and brusquely shuts the door.

Well then, how should I busy myself until the arrival of the first tutor. That one book with the diagrams might be a good starting line. It does have pictures I can comprehend at least. An alphabet book would probably work better but I haven’t found one of them in Thavims shelves. It didn’t take long at all before the knock on the door came. Actually, now that I think on it, I wasn’t given a way to identify anyone other than their name. And I’m seven. Is crime just not prevalent here in the city? I mean, there was that whole ordeal to get into the city and we even had to be vouched for just to enter.

I opened the door a crack and peeked out before asking, “Can I help you?” I was reasonably certain this was my tutor, but with nothing other than a name to verify this was all I could do. In the back of my mind I know that I’m deluding myself, that no seven year old could stop a fully grown adult from opening a door once it’s been unlatched, but alas, my brain screamed for some modicum of security.

“Hello, I’m Ellibelle Pebblebender. I’m here to tutor someone in literacy.”

“Pardon my rudeness. Please, come in,” I respond as I step back and open the door the rest of the way. My ideas of dwarves are getting shattered left and right. Thavim held pretty true to most of the stereotypes – short, squat, bearded, and brash. But Ellibelle seemed to look nearly identical to a human woman in terms of proportion. That is to say, if we were talking about a gymrat human woman. This lady is ripped and rather attractive. Contrary to many different speculations on Earth, it seems dwarven women do not grow beards.

She comes in and I close the door feeling compelled to offer a better explanation. “Sorry about not letting you in right away. I’m a little unfamiliar with this city and am quite young. The only information that I had to go on was your name,” I sheepily offer.

“Oh, it’s not a bother. Are you here alone? Where is the one I am to tutor?” she asks while peering around me.

“That’s...uh...I’m the one you’re tutoring. I’m Alvis.”

She looks visibly taken aback, “But you’re so young! How many winters have you seen?”

“Seven.”

“You seem awfully young for you to want to be literate,” she remarked as we walk towards the bookshelf.

“Really? It seems a little late to me,” I counter. “Here, this is a book I’ve been looking at.” I hand over the book with the diagrams. “It seems that I have some amount of talent for enchanting, but know almost nothing about it. This book introduces a few concepts that I had not previously known though it probably has much more to offer if I could understand the words.”

“I think you misunderstand me,” she replies. “Children your age are only ever interested in play. This would be considered work. In fact, I’ve had nearly this exact discussion with dwarven men five times your age! Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s fantastic that you want to learn to read so early, I’m just wondering if you will come to regret it later in life that you’ve missed out on play with friends of a similar age.”

Now that she mentions it, I actually don’t feel anything like my age. I feel much older. I wonder how I pass this off without alarming others in the process as I’ve alarmed poor Ellibelle here. I suppose that’s a worry for another time. For right now, I should focus on how to get her to still teach me.

“Perhaps you’re right, though how many of those children will be looking back and wishing they’d gotten an earlier start?” This was a popular argument among career counselors back on Earth. Let’s see how effective it is here.

“You do make a valid point. And I am getting paid for this after all. I suppose we should get started then.” She pulls two tiny handheld chalkboards and chalk out of a bag I didn’t even notice she was carrying and sets them both on the table.

“We’ll start with letters and how they’re pronounced.” She smiles as she sits at the table indicating I join her.

----------------------------------------

A knock on the door interrupts my attempt to read the lines she’s scrawled onto the chalkboard.

“Oh my! I must have lost track of time,” she says as she gathers up her chalkboard and chalk. “You keep this one and practice the letters I’ve taught you for tomorrow.”

I’m halfway to the door and reply with a “Yes ma’am,” as I open the door, all the way this time, to see who I assume is my next tutor. With Ellibelle behind me with those jacked arms she has, I’m much less fearful of being kidnapped.

“Can I help you?” I ask to the sullen looking soot-covered dwarf on the doorstep.

“Thasdrel. Here t’ teach smithin’.” He replies.

“Do come in,” I reply as I step out of the way as Thasdrel enters and Ellibelle leaves.

“Same time tomorrow, Alvis?” she asks on her way out.

“Yes, please!” I respond enthusiastically. I don’t even have to fake it, all of what she taught was genuinely helpful. I can almost understand some of the sentences in that diagram book now. She smiles and offers a tiny wave as she exits the door. It’s actually a little mind bending to see someone so muscular acting so demure.

I close the door and gesture for the two of us to sit at the table for discussion. It’s pretty clear that Thasdrel does not want to be here, but I figured I should at least attempt to get the ball rolling.

“So you’re here to teach me smithing?” I tentatively ask.

“Aye. Doubt I’ll be able t’ teach ye much without bein’ a’ th’ actual forge,” he gruffs out.

“Can you talk me through the process of it? I know much less than you might think about smithing and just about any information could help,” I ask to try to get the conversation started.

He begrudgingly begins to recite what I would consider a mental checklist. The takeaways that I’m getting is that there are only a few trouble areas. A few bottlenecks, if you will.

1. Correct temperature.

The only known method for getting the correct temperature is to watch it until it turns roughly the correct color that you’re looking for.

2. Hammer technique

This one seems like a no brainer – just requires practice.

3. Warping when cooling.

It seems putting a fresh sword into a vice to make sure it stays straight is not a common practice. I wonder why not since that would solve the issue if not lessen it significantly. I decide to ask him about it.

“Can’t be done. Boss says so,” is the only explanation he gives. So I’m guessing there is a practical reason and his boss just doesn’t like to explain things. That seems to be happening a lot around me.

After he had talked me through the process, he promptly takes his leave while informing me that he’d paid his debt and won’t be returning tomorrow. I guess Thavim is both paying some and calling in favors for others.

After Thasdrel has taken his leave, I sit back down at the table and resume practicing with the chalkboard. After all, I can’t really do any recreational reading until I can read. I wonder if they even have any books meant solely for recreation. My mind wanders a bit as I practice writing letters over and over. Ellibelle did leave a single sheet of paper with the letters drawn on it in ink for me to keep to work from.

After what seems like several hours, though perhaps it was only minutes since there are no clocks here, another knock sounds on the door. I walk over and open it to find a curious looking dwarf standing in front of me. Most of the dwarves I’ve seen up til this point have, by and large, fit the dwarven stereotype. Bearded, and muscular. Ellibelle doesn’t count for the bearded portion of my stereotype. Or maybe she does and just can’t grow a beard? No idea how to ask without insulting someone in the process. This one, however, was a tad skinny and bald – both on his head and his chin.

“Can I help you?” I ask with the door open this time. If my conclusion from earlier about being unable to stop an adult once the door is unlatched, then only opening it part of the way only stands to upset someone that isn't out for blood.

“Alvis. Thavim sent me. We’ve much to discuss so we’d best get started,” he jovially announced as he let himself in. I close the door and follow him to the table.

After he takes his seat, “I am an enchanting researcher. I’m constantly on the lookout for new and different ways to go about the process and Thavim insisted that I come speak to you on the subject.”

“I was under the impression that you were to be my tutor for enchanting,” I reply.

“Yesss,” he drawled while stroking his chin as if it had a beard, “Thavim said something to that effect as well but I must admit that I’m not at all interested. What I am interested in is how your version of enchanting is different than any I’ve heard of!”

“So you’re not here to tutor me.” I said flatly. It wasn’t a question. “Well I’m not at all interested in being your specimen, so unless we can come to some sort of comprimise, I fear we may have reached the end of our sessions already.”

I pause for a moment and realize I may have made a large error. “What did you say your name was again?”

He gives a smug grin and replies, “I didn’t. I suppose your participation need not be voluntary.”

The bald dwarf pulls the cuff of his long sleeve up a bit and shows a bracelet of silver with a purple gemstone that begins to glow with its own outline and tendrils of the glow snake outward toward my direction. I attempt to bat one of them away but my hand passes right through and now it’s numb. I fall out of my chair in my panic but the dozen or so tendrils touch multiple parts of my body, effectively paralyzing me.

The man scoops me up and throws me over his shoulder and begins walking to the front door. I’m completely paralyzed and all I can do is watch his footsteps on the floor. A moment after he opens the door, he yelps, followed by a bright light that seems to come from in front of him. We both tumble to the floor before everything goes black.