Hraroth and the chamberlain lean in close. Their mouths hang slightly open.
“Are these runes of light?” says Hraroth, his usually gruff voice subdued and quiet. “Yes... All from Third Script... Or not. I cannot tell. My Runethane, have you seen these before?”
“I have not.” The Runethane watches the mace closely until the light vanishes, then looks me in the eyes.
I flinch. “What is it, my Runethane?”
“I did not know that Thanerzak’s realm held such knowledge of the runes of light. I was always led to believe that only us down here knew the full extent of them. And yet you have enruned your weapon with ones I have never before read. From who or what did you learn these, Zathar?”
“A book,” I lie. “There was one in my guild’s library—burned now, sadly. It had several more scripts in it on top of the three we have access to down here.”
“What was the name of the book?”
“I cannot remember—I just remember its contents. I’m good at remembering runes, but not much else, unfortunately.”
Hraroth frowns. “How many scripts, exactly?”
“The first three we have here, and two more also. Maybe there were some in the later pages too, but I never read that far.”
There is silence so deep that the only sound I can hear is that of my own thudding heart.
“Spectacular,” mutters the Runethane. “I never knew.”
“So much has been lost,” says the chamberlain. “That the book is burned is indeed a great tragedy. Perhaps it was the only record of those runes.”
The Runethane shakes his head. “This strange up-abover has knowledge of most of them still. We can have him write them all down.”
“Yes,” says Hraroth. “A new version of the book, though a sadly diminished one.”
“Are you capable of doing this for us?” the Runethane asks me.
His stare is intense. I have no choice but to tell him: “Yes.”
“That is great news. However, I am curious. Why did you not tell us of these before?”
“I presumed you already knew them: that the three scripts you had displayed in the meal hall were just the basics, and that the senior runeknights had access to more knowledge. Besides, I wasn’t yet sure I remembered them correctly.”
“I see. You must come to understand that we do not hide knowledge from each other here—all our runes are unguarded and accessible to everyone.”
“Then I shall help ensure that this remains the case, my Runethane.”
“Good. Very good.”
The light is about to reach its zenith once more. I shut my eyes and suddenly feel a little faint. Although they’re reacted with less suspicion than I expected, this development is still one I was afraid of. The Runethane’s request—a cataloging of each and every new rune, in order—raises a number of issues.
What if I complete my dictionary, and then my hand creates a dozen new runes when I’m making my next craft? How will I explain that? Or how about when they see that I can’t understand as much detail of the runes as the quality of my poem would suggest? How much suspicion will that raise? Will the true nature of my abilities be guessed at, and if that happens, will Runethane Yurok seek to hold me down here just like Vanerak desired to do ten years ago?
The light dims and I open my eyes again. I push these worries away. Any suspicion will take time to form—there are more pressing issues at hand.
“What of my craft?” I ask nervously.
No one answers me. All three are too busy staring at the runes—it hits me that they can't read them.
“Hmm?” says the Runethane. “Ah, yes. Your craft. It is put together well. About what I’d expect for a fifth degree—though I see you have covered up your mistakes a little sloppily.”
“I have?”
“Yes,” says Hraroth, some of the usual gruffness returning to his voice. “I can see where two of the flanges have been hastily remade and re-welded. The weld burned too hot the second time around—can you not see the discoloration in the metal?”
I look closely. Around the two flanges I had to replace, the titanium is a slightly different shade of silver.
“Oh.”
“You do see it? Good. It renders your craft imperfect, and you should strive for perfection. You should have been more careful, or better yet, started again from the beginning.”
“From the beginning? That seems excessive.”
“There is no such thing as excess,” says the Runethane, “when it comes to the pursuit of perfection.”
“I wouldn’t want to waste your metal, though. Especially since I was getting it for free.”
“Ah, you still have the mindset typical to all up-abovers,” says the Runethane. The hint of a sneer appears on his pale face. “You think money—resources and power, in other words—is the be-all and end-all of what a runeknight is. The fort comes before all of that, down here. You could have asked for however much titanium and almergris you needed in the pursuit of perfecting your weapon.” He waves his hand. “But never mind all that. This new runic knowledge more than makes up for the mistakes. I do wonder at your choice of poem, however. I cannot read all of it, but it seems to me that its central theme is the beauty of the light above and how it compares favorably to that of the beauty below. How one kind of beauty is true and real, and the other is but a pale imitation.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“You’ve been hanging around that human too much,” Hraroth says darkly.
“Yes. It is a rather un-dwarvish theme,” continues the Runethane. “More to the point, its effect will prove more hindrance than help in battle. Though I do admire its originality.”
"The idea I had in mind when crafting," I tell him, "was that the brightness at the zenith will make up for the times it is not so powerful." I have to keep up the pretense that I imbued the mace with this effect on purpose. It'll be bad news if they realize that I can’t control what kind of runes I write. “On average, it's brighter than other maces of similar quality. So surely as long as I time my swings well, it’ll be more effective than a regular mace.”
“You’ll have to time them very well,” says Hraroth.
"I am a strong fighter."
"Yes, but inexperienced against the deep darkness."
I bow my head. "That's true. Maybe it was a foolish choice."
"No, no," says the Runethane. "Like I often say, we need more originality down here. New weapons against the darkness. And your weapon's average brightness is equal to that of a weapon twice as better crafted."
"Thank you," I say.
I'm rather shocked by how favorable he's being. Until now he's seemed capricious, nearly mad at certain times, so I'd expected him to act the same way when judging my craft, but instead he's praising me, and not just for the new runes, but for the quality of my forging and my decisions regarding design.
I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised. Whatever his faults, and no matter his prejudices against the 'up-abovers', he's still a master smith and the leader of two hundred runeknights. He knows a good craft and a strong crafter when he sees them.
“And I see that on your haft are runes to reduce its weight," he continues. "Another original choice, though personally not one I would have recommended.”
“Is there something wrong with that?” I ask. “I'd wondered why no one else here’s done something similar.”
Hraroth answers: “Because it makes your weapon unbalanced. Lighter overall, but unbalanced. And you do not want to fall forward into the darkness.”
I nod respectfully. “I see. Should I consider burning them away?”
“Practice with it first. Ask some of the senior runeknights how exactly we fight against the darkness—it is not like fighting against beasts, or dwarves. Then make your own decision.”
“I shall do that then, commander.”
“The runes are your priority though,” the Runethane says. “I want them encoded in great detail—and on metal or stone, paper is inappropriate for such power. I don’t know why you up-abovers bother with it.”
“I’ll make them from metal.”
“When you are finished, I shall review them, and then they will be disseminated to the rest of the fort.”
“I understand.”
“Good." He looks me in the eyes again and nods thoughtfully. "It seems I was correct in allowing you to stay here."
"Thank you."
He leans back.
"You are dismissed,” says Hraroth.
“Thank you. I’m glad to be of service.”
I bow low and turn to walk back to the ranks; I see that everyone, over a hundred dwarves, are all staring at me in shock. My own shock at this stops me still, then I realize I have no choice but to fall into line and wait until we leave to see what the reaction to my new runes is.
----------------------------------------
“New runes! New runes! New runes!”
The news that I've brought to the fort runes of light never before seen is met with elation. I stand at the center of the meal hall while the chant rolls around me, reverberating my stomach and making me feel slightly ill. I’ve been practically carried here—the excitement exploded as soon as we left the Runethane’s hall.
“New runes!” shouts Nthazes, who got himself excused from his duty as soon as he heard of the discovery. “Why didn't you tell me? You could at least have told me! New runes!”
He doesn’t seem unhappy in the slightest that I hid the information from him; like all the others he’s overwhelmed with joy.
I scratch my head. “I just couldn’t find the right time...”
“Why didn't you write them down the moment you got here?” someone yells.
“He thought we knew them all already!”
"No!"
"It's true!"
“Incredible!”
“Momentous!”
“Thank you!” I shout. “I will write them all down for you soon enough. All that I can remember anyway—”
“Remember all of them!” another voice cries. “Even if it kills you! More runes!”
“Yes, well, soon enough. Right now I just need a drink and something to eat.”
“Give him a table!” shouts Nthazes. “And our best ale!”
I’m thrust into a chair at the hall’s best carved table, and heaped plates of food and half a dozen mugs of frothing ale are immediately slammed down in front of my nose. Nthazes slaps me hard on the back.
“Eat and drink up,” he says, still grinning madly. “You’ll need your strength if you’re going to remember all of them.”
“Take that ale away!” comes a shout. “We can’t risk him damaging what’s inside his mind!”
“Nonsense!” someone else booms. “Ale is good for the mind! Everyone knows that, and the more the better.”
I take a swig and start on the food, to much cheering. I wish the hall was as dark as it was when I first came down here, because for some reason I feel terribly embarrassed; my face is hot and red. I wasn’t expecting this reaction. Of all the possibilities that crossed my mind: suspicion, jealousy, anger—I’d never considered elation.
Why? The discovery of new runes is not such a rare thing: many runeknights make their names hunting for them in the abandoned places of the underworld—and every decade or so an expedition meets with success.
But these dwarves are so cut off that new runes reach them only very occasionally. It makes sense that original ones of such value would be greeted with happiness. Yet this fact on its own, I think, cannot quite account for the feverish joy of my comrades. I think the main reason behind all this chanting, dancing, drinking and back-slapping is that they just haven’t had any good news for far too long. The past year—or maybe two by now—has been nothing but misery for them.
Now, the spell of horror after horror has been broken: they have a potential new weapon to fight the darkness, or the shadow-dwarf, or whatever else they believe is responsible for the killings.
Nthazes starts a chant:
“Zathar! Zathar! Zathar!”
It’s incredibly loud—everyone is crowding right behind me, as close to my mace as possible. It’s covered up securely, so no one can see the runes right now, but it seems that the mere knowledge of their existence is enough for every dwarf here to want to be within touching distance of it.
“Runes! Runes! Runes!”
Doubts and worries assail me once more. How long will this elation last? When will the strange questions start?
Stop, I tell myself. This is not a time for worries. I try to relax the tension in my shoulders. This is all going well, far better than I'd expected. I ought to be happy: I've gone from outsider, grudgingly respected for my fighting ability, to practically a hero of the fort.
Most importantly, I’m now above suspicion for the killings, for no shadow-dwarf would ever bring down runes of light.