My mind was racing as I was led back into the fortress. I didn’t remember much about Dwarven history, but I doubt I would have forgotten being told that their people once lived on floating cities.
The armored human led us to an area that was heavily guarded and was speaking to my companion.
A loud scream suddenly permeated the hallway before a reinforced door, and my companion put his arm around me to hold me close.
We entered the room with the persistent screaming, a large simple stone room with what looked like steel cages in the center. The screaming came from a nearby wall, where a large number of humans were surrounding a table, including a dark-skinned one that looked like the ones who gave my companion the oil that healed me.
The armored human spoke to the group, and a small number of them backed away from the table.
On it laid the screaming creature, a heavily muscled bipedal thing covered in scars that could have passed for a human at a glance if not for its dark green skin.
I was frightened of the sight, my painful memories threatening me to resurface, but I was emboldened by my companion, and knew he would not lead me here without reason.
I moved closer, so that I could inspect the face. It had a thick neck and lower jaw with protruding tusks that gave the creature a prominent underbite. It certainly didn’t look like any creature I had seen before.
The dark-skinned human looked over at me, gave me a hard look after the armored one spoke to it, then stepped away for a moment to grab a stack of scrolls.
They showed me it’s contents, a diagram of the green monster’s anatomy, I looked for a while, but was confused as to why they were showing it to me.
A few minutes of attempted communication passed, until the dark-skinned one went to reach for another scroll and presented it beside the first.
This one showed the anatomy of a human, and… it was similar but definitely different. The center lung was missing, the heart was on the wrong side, and there were many other tiny differences.
The one of the green skinned monster actually looked closer to an elf’s than a human’s.
Wait…
I looked over at the monster on the table, it’s screaming had died down, and was now whimpering in pain. It had large hands with webbing up to the first knuckle between each finger. Long arms and torso over short legs and large feet when compared to myself or a human. It reminded me of our distant cousins that lived on the shore and islands of our kingdom.
I looked once more at the head of the monster. It had pointed ears…
I felt my knees go weak, and my companion had to hold me steady. I don’t know how I found the fortitude, but my eyes remained locked on the creature, and I activated my eyes of truesight.
I could see the violent mana pulse inside the creature, and just like a monster, there was a core inside of it.
The dark-skinned one was putting a damp cloth over the monster’s forehead, speaking words that I recognized as the same ones that my companion first spoke to me after my rescue.
My companion spoke to me, choosing his words to match the ones that I had learned, “Help, friend.”
I looked at my companion, then back to the creature, it was covered in scars, but they were faint and not debilitating, not ones that would have been gained in a battle.
I now understood, they wanted to cure the deformed elf before them.
I grabbed the attention of the dark-skinned one and pointed to a location on the anatomy chart right above the right hip.
They nodded and proceeded to cut into the creature that now resumed it screaming. The dark skinned one used a tool to reach inside the incision, then after making a few cuts with its knife, pulled out the tiny uncut monster core.
The creature’s screams stopped, and a deep exhale emanated from it causing its entire body to go limp. Not long after, the sounds of sleep could be heard.
---
Travis
I stood there dumbfounded after hearing the dwarf’s story. How many times did I hear the tale of Old Guy becoming a blacksmith as a kid growing up?
Lancel was visibly thinking, then drew in close to whisper to me, “Ok, awkward question. Is Franklin a half-orc?”
My river of thought jumped banks, I tried to remember if I ever heard Franklin mention that, but I doubted that I would have forgotten him saying something so astounding, and as far as I knew, there were only humans in my village.
I scratched my right ear, hoping that Arc could provide an answer, “I’m working on it! Just give me a minute. I’ve got a lot of memories to sift through.”
“I don’t know, he’s never mentioned it.” I uselessly looked around, but there were no orcs in the smithy, “I’ve never met an orc, let alone a half-orc.”
“You boys just gonna stand there or are ya gonna go watch?” The beardless desk clerk interrupted.
Lancel gave a sideways grin with a shrug to me, and we followed the clerk inside to what I assumed was the master smith’s workshop.
The bearded dwarf was covering Arc in a strange paste, brushing it into every crevice with a boar hairbrush, and would occasionally grab a wooden chisel to dig out some of the encrusted gunk.
They then placed Arc into a small tub of blue liquid, then pressed a button which made the inside churn with air bubbles.
“Removing 144-year-old grime and dirt… oh yeah… that is deeply satisfying to watch…”
I couldn’t help but smile at Arc. It was always hard to find something nice to do for him, especially since his senses were so limited. About the only thing I could really do for him was read books or draw pictures in charcoal so that he could see.
I looked over to the master smith and saw that he was just idly waiting, “Have you worked on similar swords before?”
The bearded dwarf nodded, “Aye, been a hobby of mine doing restoration work on these old Northman swords. Real shame that they don’t make ‘em using the method they used before meeting us dwarves anymore.”
“I actually don’t know much about my sword. I was given it right before I left my village a few weeks ago.”
“Didn’t give you the history?” The dwarf shook his head, “Well, let me fill you in. Back before us dwarves were able to teach you humans the proper way to smelt ores, some of you Northman humans got it into your heads that you could up the heat by constantly pumping air into your fire, and to trap in the heat by using a clay furnace.
It would get hot enough, but the mana pollution from the Air and Water would still seep into the metal reinforcement, leaving you with a blade full of all four mana types. Granted, you humans didn’t know how to manipulate mana back then, so it’s not like you’d have been able to inscribe them anyways. On the downslope, the weapons made using that method are practically immune to the elements, would always bend back into place, and never chip.”
Lancel butted in, “Is that why Franklin’s work was such high quality? I always found it odd that the equipment that he repaired for me lasted much longer than the gear issued to me from the capital.”
“I did train in John on the old human method, always good to know different smithing techniques. That method would work nicely in a small village, you wouldn’t be swamped with orders, so you could spend the extra time smelting your own ore.”
I felt my heart skip a beat, and felt dread sink into my bones, “Wait, would that mean his quality would drop if someone… umm, gave him ingots with only Metal Mana in them?”
Lancel gave me an inquisitive side glance that I tried to ignore, but thankfully the bearded dwarf drew our attention, “Nah, he’d be fine. A bunch o’ farmers aren’t gonna be beating the sand out of their equipment. In fact, he’d probably have an easier time hammering the steel into shape and making repairs without the mana contamination. Besides, it’s not like the non-metal mana would stay in place anyways, it’d eventually wiggle its way out of the steel and be set free after a few years.”
The master smith then took out Arc, gave him a good look, then carried him over to a different tank. He dunked him in, then wiped him off with a rag, and took him to a workbench. “Got any preference for the leather color?”
“Umm, can you match the sheath?”
“No problem, got loads of that stuff,” The bearded dwarf opened up a drawer and pulled out a spool of dark leather, “should be done in a few, this one’s held its mana real good.”
“Hey, can you ask him a question for me?”
I listened to Arc, then repeated the question, “If you don’t mind me asking, you said that the ingots Franklin makes would lose their Non-Metal Mana after a few years. What makes my sword different? I heard that the mana reinforcement could last 144 dwarven generations.”
“Ah, you’re a sharp one, it’s what they used in the smelting process.” The dwarf began to wrap Arc’s handle, “Normally when you make an ingot, you got to add some glass to attract the left-over Earth Mana and add in charcoal to give the Fire Mana something to bind to.”
I nodded my head, already familiar with the procedure.
“The thing is, you can use something other than charcoal… Now, it technically wasn’t necromancy, but after the human kingdoms united and us dwarves and elves helped ya purge those mad cultists, the practice went out of style since it was a bit too close for comfort.”
“What did they use?” I asked nervously, unable to pull my eyes away from Arc.
“The bones of their fallen… the stronger, the better…”
I gulped at the revelation, yeah, I was definitely feeling uncomfortable now…
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
The master smith finished his wrap, then went over Arc one final time before sheathing him, “There we go, good as new, and ready to nab yourself a princess with.”
“Wait, what?” / “Wait, what?” Arc and I asked in unison.
The bearded dwarf started laughing, “Don’t you humans know your own history?”
I scowled at him, “Care to clarify your statement? How is an old sword supposed to do that?”
The dwarf kept chuckling, “You know the story of how the human kingdom united right?”
“Yes, the four representatives met to decide on who to choose as a ruler. The Ashmen representative declined, leaving only the Grand Matriarch of the Southern Plains, the Knight King of Lakeland, and the Emperor Jarl of the Northern Tundra. The three debated whether or not to form a council, but didn’t want to exclude the Ashmen, and were worried that without a singular ruler, the defense of the forming capital city would fail due to infighting.
The three eventually decided to have the Matriarch rule, since she was the most experienced tactician, and would be the best person to organize the army. As a compromise, her lineage would only be allowed to marry knights of the newly formed human kingdom.”
“Aye, you’ve done your studying, but how does one become a knight?”
I glanced towards Lancel, instincts kicking in that it was a trick question. He raised his eyebrow but answered, “You provide proof that you’re capable of consciously activating your internal mana before the age of 31 and swear fealty to the crown.”
The old dwarf smirked, “That’s how it’s done now, but one of the queen’s successors found the original requirements a bit too difficult.”
The dwarf led us into a back room that was filled with massive skeletons of killed monsters, “Dragons are nasty creatures, so full of cysts that they can strip away all of the ambient mana in an area and bring it under their control.”
They patted the skull of a creature, it was larger than my horse, had teeth as big as my forearm, and was covered in veins of faintly glowing orange light, “The mana inside of a living dragon is so intense that any weapon that manages to pierce their hides is obliterated.”
The dwarf then pointed out the eye socket of the skull, the size of it bigger than my head, inside was the tip of a spear, dug deep and melted into the bone, “There is one exception though.” they then looked at Arc, “The original requirement to become a knight, was to present a weapon bathed in the blood of a dragon.”
---
Arc
The history lesson from the old dwarf distracted me from scanning through memories of Franklin. I didn’t want to halt my search, but the new information provided a clue as to how I came to this world, and not focusing on it was proving to be challenging.
“Travis, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to do some soul-searching and scan my oldest memories. I’ll try not to take too long, but I’ll be unavailable while I do so.” I paused for a bit, feeling bad for being selfish, “If you think you’ll need me, just let me know, and I’ll wait till tonight.”
Travis tapped his right ear, then gave my pommel a friendly rub with his left hand.
“Thanks bud.”
I pull in my vision, discontinue my floating focus, and take a mental breath as I inspect my soul.
No changes. Still the same size though, I guess that’s good? I look over at my “patch” to ensure it is still working as intended and is only acting as an aide.
Ok, everything looks fine, time to do the thing you’ve been dreading…
Now that I know I’m a captured spirit, with the bones of a fallen warrior being used as a catalyst, it’s time for me to figure out just how old I am…
I begin rewinding my memories at a fast pace, it wasn’t necessary, but it allowed me to think in terms of a human rather than a sword. I watch as my vision gets blurrier and blurrier, until all I can see is giant blobs of color.
I keep rewinding, but my memories stop. Well, I guess that’s when I got dragged over here. I have my “patch” calculate the time I’ve been here, and… ok, I guess it could be worse.
I give out a mental sigh, I’m not sure why I was worried, I did manage to prevent myself from going mad.
Hmm, there’s not really much I can figure out though… Yes, I’ve got a start date, but that doesn’t really tell me anything.
For starters, I’m actually not that old, only 147 years old. There’s also the issue of how I got anchored, since those aren’t the embedded remains of one of my previous lives in my sword body. Then there’s the big question, who pulled me into this universe? Only a god or God could do such a thing, and they don’t normally do something that big without consent.
I mentally sigh, no real answers, just confirmation on one of my guesses. I take another pointless look at my soul, not truly expecting to discover something, but was still disappointed when nothing new was learned.
Guess it’s time to get out of my head and stop making Travis worry.
---
Travis
I gave Arc an affectionate pat on his pommel, letting him know that I was there for him if he needed me. I know he probably won’t share what he finds out, but after hearing the dwarf’s story, I can make a few guesses.
Lancel and I exited the shop, my wallet not as empty as I feared going in. I think the master smith gave me a heavy discount, since what he charged would have likely only covered the materials used, and the beardless dwarf was grumbling after being told what to charge.
I looked around the entrance by the horses, “Where’d Barry go?”
“He asked if he could go on a quick errand.” Lancel and I tried to scan the crowd of people and horses walking in the separated lanes, “I guess we both thought it would take longer to get your sword fixed.”
“Should we wait or..?”
“Nah, he’ll be gone for another half hour at least. Let’s walk around for a bit, he’s the one that gets paid to stand around bored, we’ll meet him back here after I get a chance to show you around.”
Lancel led me out of the blacksmith’s wing of the mall, then went up a ramp into a central ring full of tiny shops. The variety was incredible to me, especially with how specialized some of the shops were. I saw one with glass tanks full of colorful fish that I couldn’t help but stare at, one that a lot of elves were at that only sold a dark brown drink, another that sold face paint, and many more.
We finished moving along the current arc to the next wing, which ended up being a massive multi-level bookstore.
“Hmm,” I looked around and noticed that not only were we close to the blacksmith wing, but a few of the horses outside of the entrance looked similar to Barry’s, “can we check out the bookstore?”
“Of course, you’re the one who we’re here for. If there’s any place you want to check out, go ahead.”
I gave Lancel a thanks, then got off 5751054 and left him to walk over to one of the water troughs in the park on the inside of the ring. I wisely looked before crossing the horse path, then weaved through the mass of people on foot into the store.
There were multiple guards in front by the registers, scanning the people walking out, and after passing them, entered the massive multi-floored room with seemingly endless rows of bookshelves.
Lancel stepped beside me and began to chuckle at my wonderment, “Your entire village could probably fit inside this bookstore.”
I could easily see it, there were even street signs put up to direct people to different sections of the store. One of the signs caught my eye, and my intuition started to lick it’s lips in anticipation.
I started silently walking, now on a mission, though Lancel didn’t seem too eager, “Umm, Travis… why are we going into this section?”
I grinned at Lancel’s reddening face, “Following a hunch.”
Inside I found a large sign, Newly Released – Under the Tusks and Sails: Radelia, now free from her arranged marriage and scheming father, travels to the human kingdom with Drozuk to create a new life for themselves. However, tragedy befalls the couple during a storm while sailing on the Grand River, and the two become separated. Drozuk nearly drowns after a blow to his head but is rescued by a passing pirate warlord. Now suffering from amnesia, will Drozuk be able to remember his love for Radelia? Or will he fall into temptation from the advances of the voluptuous Captain Evangeline?
We walked past the sign to where a line was forming in front of a large crate full of books, and… yep there he was.
“So I’m thinking, we wait for him to get his book then wave to him as he passes by. What do you think?” I schemed with Lancel.
Lancel, now grinning madly, countered, “I think we should hide, then wait for him to walk to the register and bump into him there.”
I nodded in agreement to Lancel, and we moved towards the front of the bookstore to wait for Barry. Our timing must have been blessed by Ignitious, because it only took a few minutes before Barry began making his way up.
“Barry?” Lancel shouted, “Didn’t expect to find you here.”
Barry, stopped dead in his tracks, was completely immobile for a brief moment, then quickly pulled the book he was carrying close to his chest with a crimson-red face and choked out, “Lancel… Travis… I, uh, thought you’d be a while…”
I patted Arc, “The master smith knew what he was doing, so we got finished quickly.” I tilted my head toward the book being tightly grasped in his hands, “Another adventure novel? I was thinking about buying one myself, what’s that one about?”
Barry began to sweat and breathe heavily, and I was actually starting to worry about his health, but Lancel set his hand on Barry’s shoulder, “We’re just messing with you, I know you’re only picking that up for your wife.” Lancel then followed up with his signature grin.
“Yes! It’s for the wife!” Barry blurted out, now trembling from the stress, “Did you two want to look around as well, or can I go buy this book for my wife?”
I looked around the store, “Actually, yes. Let’s head over to the history section.”
---
Travis
The day after our trip to the mall, I managed to finagle my way out of some of the party prep to work on the letters I was going to send back home.
Mom’s and Dad’s were the easiest, since they mostly just detailed what I had been up to and were ended by extending Matriarch Rabiria’s invitation to winter in the capital.
Franklin’s was proving to be difficult though. I scratched my right ear, hoping Arc could help me out, “Maybe just straight up tell him the truth? He’s a grown man who’s likely made poor decisions before, and you’re just a teenager who was put in a difficult situation, he’ll likely forgive you for lying to him. Plus, he might enjoy hearing about your encounter with his father’s master.”
I wasn’t alone in the Main Hall, Lancel was reading a book, and a few of the staff’s children were doing homework, so I wrote down for Arc to read, “What about the fact that Old Guy told a false story to everyone? I’m not even sure if Franklin knows the true story, he’s never mentioned having a mother, just that Old Guy came to Aelder Creek with him when he was still a baby.”
“Maybe leave out the bit about the orc woman, we don’t know the full story, and speculating without any substantial leads could lead to harm if they end up false.”
I tapped my right ear and continued with my letter to Franklin, now feeling self-conscious about it becoming longer than the letter to my parents.
My writing was later disrupted by Marcia entering the Main hall, “Just got back the initial stormfront of replies.” She gave me a grin, “The two that you invited are both coming.”
That put me in a good mood, and I gave out a relaxing breath, “That’s sturdy. I didn’t think the one would come; he wasn’t exactly enthused to be at the last party.”
Lancel looked up from his book, “There’s a big difference between being ordered and volunteering. Besides, he did seem to be loosening up towards the end of the night, it wouldn’t surprise me if you’re the first non-spartan he’s made friends with.”
A large commotion suddenly emerged in the hall due to Rabiria entering the Main Hall with a number of guards and an unknown person in an intricate set of half-plate that had decorative filigree filled in with green paint. I decided to use my mana sight and was shocked to see that the knight was even more mana dense than Darius.
“I need the entire estate in this room immediately.” Rabiria ordered, shocking me due to her lack of calmness and look of panic.
I scratched my right ear, worried that something bad had happened, “Oh, you’re going to enjoy this. Make sure you got a good seat; you’re going to want to see the faces of all the Hopkins.”
It didn’t take long for everyone from the Hopkins family, guards, and staff to start entering the room. I turned to Lancel and gave him a whisper, “Is that guy a royal knight?”
Lancel nodded his head with a worried look, then moved to stand by his sister.
Once everyone that could attend the meeting was present, Rabiria spoke, “We just received a letter from Her Royal Highness.” She then gave the royal knight a nod.
The royal knight pulled out a sheet of paper and with a loud booming voice spoke what was written,
“To Travis of Aelder Creek, Initiate Elementalist Mage, currently in the care of Clan Hopkins,
I have received word of your accomplishments and find it fitting to extend a personal congratulations to you. Not only did you manage to pass the entrance examination to attend Sigurd the Archmage’s Academy for the Gifted, but you have been given permission to pursue the Elementalist Mage title, despite your humble origin.
I wish you the best of luck and will eagerly wait to hear of your success.”
Ok, wow, a personal letter from the Queen. My heart was thrumming with excitement, no wonder Arc didn’t want to spoil the good news. I caught the eyes of Lancel and the others all beaming at me with their smiles.
Well, except for Matriarch Rabiria, who was breathing heavily, and was being held by a confused Gramps.
The royal guard cleared his throat,
“To Clan Hopkins, in care of Matriarch Rabiria,
To bear witness to the continued establishment of your noble house has been a pleasure. Darius, First Knight of Clan Hopkins, has a prestigious military career, and his assistance in defending the capital these past three floods despite his retirement has been a boon to the kingdom. With the knighting of multiple sons, your family has now weathered the most difficult challenge to becoming a permanent fixture of the kingdom.
Sir Lancel has received my recognition personally, not only for becoming a knight 3 years early, despite being the child of a first-generation noble house, but for defending the kingdom from an ancient threat that was long thought to be gone from this world. His discovery of Travis has also cast light on a set of potential flaws in our recruitment efforts in the kingdom and is one that I intend to rectify.
As a personal thank you for your loyal servitude to the kingdom, I will accept your invitation to Travis’ Mage’s Academy acceptance party on behalf of my daughter, Princess Seleyna, who will be joining Travis at the academy.
Queen Claudette of the United Human Kingdom”
Silence filled the room, I noticed that Gramps was fully supporting Rabiria, Marcia seemed to be doing nearly the same for Lancel, and Caldia was laying prone on one of the couches breathing heavily while staring at the ceiling.
I turned to face the royal knight, who gave me a nervous smile, “Well, it could be worse… at least it’s not the Queen who’s about to visit.”