Chapter 4: The Journal

Katalin sat at the rough-hewn table, brow furrowed as she pored over her father's leather journal. She first flipped through the tome quickly, skimming, before settling in to read more closely. It seemed Henrik had started writing after that first visit from Jasper Coppertoes about ten years ago. The opening pages held a short history of Henrik's long past while the rest brimmed with notes and diagrams about talks with dwarven smiths, gnomish tinkerers and the other visitors who had come to their humble village forge.

Around her, the others picked at their food, eyes drifting to Katalin as anticipation mounted. Her mother Seraphina slid an extra helping of stew in front of her, but the untasted meal grew cold, forgotten amid the revelations filling each page.

"Come on Kat," Cassius prodded gently, unable to contain his curiosity. "What's it say in there?"

Katalin glanced up, mouth opening to respond, but Seraphina interjected pointedly, "Now Cass, that journal was meant for Katalina. I'm sure she'll tell us anything important."

Katalin smiled around the table, connecting the new vibrant hue with curiosity, happy to ascribe meaning to a fresh discovery among her burgeoning perceptions.

Katalin gazed affectionately at her half-brother. "Yes mother, I will tell you anything important."

She leaned into Cassius, emotion swelling within. "And the most important thing is for you, Cassy. I love you, brother. I understand why you couldn't-" she paused, holding back tears. "I understand. And you will always be my beloved big brother Cassy and I will always love you."

Cassius leaned into Katalin, putting an arm around her in a fierce hug. "Silly Kitty-Kat, I know that." And they just sat in silence a moment, comforted by their close bond.

They sat back up and Cassius met her eyes solemnly. "As soon as I got mother's note about your plans, I started making arrangements to get you out of Stonehaven."

Katalin regarded her brother curiously. "Didn't you fear for my life at all, dear brother? Just one lone woman, storming off to confront three ruthless trained warriors?"

Cassius waved a hand casually. "I knew Azarillo and Valfisk were already banished and fled, so only Laszlo himself would stand before you." He shrugged continuing, "And even if it was all three, when have you ever not done something once you decided you were going to do it."

Cassius' eyes flickered to Garren briefly before he leaned in, lowering his voice. "I also knew you came into, certain gifts after father's passing. A special inheritance that runs along ancestral lines."

Katalin blinked in surprise. "You knew?"

Cassius nodded. "Father never told me himself. But over time, Alaric has come to confide in me. One night he explained what he knew of father's history and time at Stonehaven."

Katalin felt a warming of her heart hearing Cassius still refer to Henrik as his father.

He sighed, meeting her eyes. "I confess, it was quite a tale to absorb at once about the man who raised me as his own. But when I came for father and Gregory's service and saw you desperately ill...I knew the truth of it."

Katalin paled slightly. "So Alaric understands it all? My lineage, my gifts? What might that mean for me now if he sees me as...other?" She squeezed Cassius's hand, seeking reassurance.

Cassius nodded reassuringly. "Yes, Alaric knows of father's gifts and how he came to Stonehaven all those years ago. And there are a few clerics who know the truth learned when Father was examined for signs of demonic influence."

He patted Katalin's hand. "But fear not, they harbor no ill intentions, only seeking to understand the unusual circumstances. Fortunately, Lord Tamas remains ignorant of father's whole story. He merely resents the favor Alaric showed a common blacksmith."

At that, Seraphina snorted derisively. "Lord Tamas is naught but a greedy pig." She theatrically pushed up her nose with a fingertip, making exaggerated snorting and oinking sounds.

The table erupted in laughter at her pantomime of the crass, perpetually red-faced Lord Tamas. Katalin felt tension ease from her shoulders, comforted by her family's support.

Cassius shook his head with a deep sigh. "Not that it matters now, but ever since father and Gregory's memorial, Alaric tasked me with scouring the castle libraries, seeking legal precedent allowing a woman to inherit."

Katalin and Seraphina exchanged surprised looks.

"I didn't know," Katalin remarked.

Cassius patted her hand reassuringly. "Alaric felt tremendous personal and political debt to father for his years of service to House Stonehaven and the realm. And as a man, he was grateful to father for the care shown Mother and I."

He leaned back, regarding his sister. "Put in practical terms, Stonehaven just lost the greatest smith in the kingdom of Starcrest, plus another master trained by him. Face it Kitty-Kat..." Here Cassius grinned lopsidedly. "...you are one of the most skilled forge-workers left in Stonehaven lands. 'Twould stand to reason our lord would wish to keep you safely hammering steel within his realm."

Katalin surveyed the room then returned her gaze to Cassius, looking guilty but with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Oops."

The table erupted in laughter again, Garren spewing apple cider he had just sipped. Wiping his mouth, he apologized but Seraphina waved it away while dabbing the table with a cloth.

Straightening with an amused shake of her head, she echoed "Oops indeed!" Then smiled at her bold, defiant daughter who she loved so dearly, consequences be damned.

Katalin grinned, though sadness still haunted her eyes. "Thank you for telling me, Cass. It heartens me to know Father's memory was so honored at court after...after the tribunal's wretched decision."

Cassius sighed, regret weighing his broad shoulders. "I should have sent word once I began seeking precedent for you to claim inheritance. But I knew you were gripped in grief and I thought there would be time enough later for such practical matters."

He shook his head bitterly. "Yet in my caution, I failed you. By the time Mother's letter arrived the gears were already turning."

Katalin reached out to lay a comforting hand on her brother's wrist. "It wasn't your fault," she spoke with conviction, her face hardening with determination. "Those snakes deserve their reckoning and Azarillo and Valfisk still have blood debts to settle."

Katalin paused, allowing a moment of silence to envelop the table. Then she wiped a brimming wetness from her eyes, took a bracing breath, and reopened her father's journal.

She gently flipped through pages, scanning Henrik's flowing script and admiring his detailed illustrations. Turning back to the beginning, she read quietly for a few minutes as the others watched in anticipation.

Looking up, Katalin explained, "It seems father started this record shortly after Jasper Coppertoes' first visit. Most of it is notes and drawings related to smithing techniques, plus logs of his many conversations with the dwarves, gnomes, and men who visited here."

She ran a finger over the page she was looking at. "The first pages are details of what he learned about this blessing he passed to me. Followed by recounting some of his long personal history prior to settling here in Butterridge."

Katalin glanced up to see Cassius and Seraphina exchange an uncertain look. She realized they were looking at Garren, debating whether he should be trusted with the truth about her abilities.

Sensing their hesitation, Garren shifted awkwardly. "Perhaps I should excuse myself for this portion," he offered.

Katalin hesitated, her instincts telling her to hide her abilities. But if Garren was going to assist her, she needed to be honest. "No, we will be traveling together and if you are to help me, you should know everything."

Garren settled back down as Katalin returned her gaze to the journal's pages.

"Father makes clear this is based on myths and legends pieced together from the many dwarfs who visited us over the years. How much is true, he cannot say for certain."

She ran her finger along the meticulous script as she read. "It is called 'The Blessing of Brondalin Forgefather'. It grants what the dwarves described as 'The Span of a Dwarf', 'The Strength of the Hammer', and 'The Endurance of Iron'. Brondalin is the Dwarven God of Smithing and is their most revered deity."

Katalin paused, letting the supernatural implications settle around the room.

"The average lifespan of a dwarf is about three hundred years. Father estimated that at the time of this writing, he could live another fifty to seventy years, and he expected he would likely age rapidly in the final decade or two."

Turning back to the journal, she continued. "The blessing also includes the aura sight, but there was disagreement about its origin."

Katalin glanced back down to continue. "The most common version of the tale goes like this: Brondalin's favorite hammer, 'Shatterstar' was stolen by Tassarin, the dwarven god of oceans and weather. As sea deities held little relevance to dwarven life, Tassarin perpetually felt ignored and was thus prone to making mischief amongst the other gods."

"Tassarin hid Shatterstar away and spread rumor that any who found and returned it would be granted audience in the Great Hall. If they could strike Brondalin with his own hammer, supposedly the finder could then marry Brondalin's daughter Ziana, revered goddess of jewelry, gems and artistry."

Katalin shook her head. "As one might expect, this ignited an age of questing. Never before or since have so many dwarves roamed the lands above. Then one day, all in the Great Hall were shocked when a human man strode in defiantly clutching Shatterstar."

"The gods tensed in anticipation as they knew the prize was a lie and anyone foolish enough to attack Brondalin with his own hammer was doomed to a thousand years of torment."

Seraphina interjected bitterly, "Just like selfish gods to all know the promised reward was false yet never warn any honest seekers."

Katalin paused and continued, "The man, variably called Eadric Emberstrike, Thrain Ironroot, or Roger of Willowshade, approached Brondalin. Instead of attacking however, he fully prostrated himself, presenting the hammer as an offering."

"Tassarin's face turned a shade of deep crimson as he choked out a spray of wine, his body slumping with shock and disappointment. The hall shook with laughter to see Tassarin's trick fail so spectacularly. Brondalin was extremely pleased, and after recovering his breath offered to make Tassarin's false promise true - the man could marry Lady Ziana as a reward."

"Eadric, or Thrain, or maybe Roger humbly decline saying that he was not worthy of such a great honor. When Brondalin asked what he might ask for instead, the man begged for the ability to improve his smithing prowess."

"Brondalin was utterly delighted by this selfless request. As the Eternal Forgekeeper, nothing stirred his soul more deeply than meeting one who sought no fame nor fortune, wishing only to prefect their craft out of devotion to the art itself. In that moment, the humble smith won a place in the god's great heart. Overwhelmed by such purity of purpose, Brondalin eagerly agreed to not only grant improved skill but to give the full measure of his blessing, and declaring that the blessing would pass through the man's descendants for tens of tens of generations so long as they remained devoted servants of the forge."

"It was then that 'The Eyes of the Deceiver' blessing was given but there is disagreement about its origin - some claim the aura sight came directly from Brondalin, while others say it came from Tassarin, either impressed at his thwarted deception or making amends to Brondalin through concession. But the most commonly accepted version declares Ziana granted this second blessing, relieved upon not having to marry a mortal man."

Katalin finished the tale and glanced up. Seraphina was staring quietly at the flickering hearth. "Well...now we understand what that cleric meant when he called your father 'god adjacent' all those years ago."

Cassius' eyes widened. "Incredible. And dire if this knowledge spreads to the wrong ears." He shook his head, grappling with the immense implications around his sister's new reality.

Katalin gave him a solemn nod then added, "Father writes that I will find more revelations about these abilities throughout his record. But for now it is vital I know two things - first, remaining a devoted servant to the forge is key. As my smithing skills improve, so too will my strength and gifts. And in turn, as my talents progress, so will my mastery over metal and flame. The second is that the aura sight is imperfect, clouded by my limited perception. What I see is based on my own skills and observations. As I grow to better read the actions and expressions of those around me, the auras and the combat visions will become more accurate."

She let those words hang in the air a moment, then with a quiet breath, she turned her attention back to the journal and resumed reading.

"As near as I can estimate looking back, I was around two hundred and thirty to two hundred and fifty years old when Jasper appeared at the smithy with you and Gregory. Though time blurs after so long lived."

I was born in the quiet hamlet of Frostpine within the Whitestone kingdom. My father owned the local smithy, while my grandfather perished in battle with orcs prior to my birth. I became a master blacksmith by twenty-four years of age, and soon married my beloved Talia. We were gifted two fine strong sons, whom I hoped would one day apprentice beside me.

Tragedy struck when I had seen only thirty-three years, however - a cruel sickness swept through Frostpine. It took my father and youngest boy before any healers reached our isolated mountain village. I still feel that loss like a hole in my chest after all this time...

Katalin paused, blinking back tears as she looked up at her family. She took a steadying breath and read on.

"When I was thirty-five years old," Katalin read aloud, "an elderly man who gave his name as Bran Ironsmith came to my smithy begging shelter in his final days. In return, Bran offered a generous sum to provide for my family after he passed."

Katalin looked up from the journal. "Father goes on to describe welcoming Bran into his home for some weeks. Though the man grew ever weaker, he still tottered out to Henrik's forge when able, reminiscing fondly about his younger years working metal and sharing a blacksmith's bread. At first they discussed mundane shop talk - specialty hammers or bellow modifications."

She then looked back to the page and read, "But one late evening Bran grew solemn before meeting my eyes. 'Have you felt any...kinship between us, lad? A bond, even in our short time?"

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

At my puzzled look, the old man haltingly explained, "I have spent long years tracing the steps back through my life, seeking my descendants. When you roam as long as I, one's own history blurs...Yet now, I am convinced you are my heir."

"He then revealed himself not merely as a wandering smith but kin - my great grandfather, or perhaps my great great grandfather. He was uncertain of the precise link."

Katalin paused to take a drink of cider, the firelight dancing in her eyes. "Father writes how skepticism flooded his mind at Bran's claim. Yet the old man seemed placidly convinced in his belief. And with his health rapidly fading, Henrik saw little cause to argue or unsettle his final days with doubt, false as this fancy of familial ties might be."

She resumed reading..."In those remaining days, I learned the name Ironsmith was no idle boast. The breadth and depth of his mastery over metal working stunned me. I plied him relentlessly with questions whenever I could, from the minute I assisted him to my forge each morning, to easing him back to bed each dusk as he grew unable to rise unaided."

"I tended to his basic needs myself rather than tasking my wife or son. I knew our time was short and was determined to gather every last grain of smithing knowledge from this supposedly long lost kin before the opportunity slipped away..."

Katalin shifted in her seat. "But in those final days, Bran grew less coherent, drifting between strange visions as fever wracked his withered frame. In scattered murmurs, he told stories of our shared forebear - tales of a blessing bestowed in ancient times by a Dwarven god upon our bloodline as reward for a mighty feat. Powers that surge onward through descendants, only revealing their glory when death comes for the current vessel."

She shook her head, a slight smile touching her lips. "Father admits writing off such wild rambling as madness taking hold. Yet after Bran died, Henrik suddenly collapsed for three agonizing days--just as happened to me when father passed. And just as mother nursed me through the fire, father had his wife and son desperately watching over him."

Katalin nodded, lost for a moment in resonant memory. Then she resumed reading...

"A healer was sent for but by the time he arrived I had emerged whole once more - immediately aware that old Bran's 'fancies' proved miraculously real. While my body remained largely unchanged, supernatural vigor and perception now thrummed within me."

Katalin's voice grew warm, picturing her father discovering his gifts. "Over months of wonder, I found my skills as a smith expanding exponentially - now able to see flaws within metal at a glance, guiding my hammer with uncanny precision beyond any worldly trainer. And though the full nature of this strange aura sight remained clouded, I relished each new facet emerging to assist my craft."

Again turning the page she continued. "Yet we knew such magic must remain secret, or risk dangerous covetous eyes turning our way - whether from grasping Kings or suspicious Holy Men. And so my family agreed secrecy was central to permitting me time to hone the talents revealed by Bran's passing."

"Isolation and discretion seemed vital then. At home, my increasing ability to see auras surrounding everyone was beautiful but mundane. I saw the deep calm blue and green of my family and friends, with greys and whites flickering around townsfolk who came for business. While intriguing, the narrow palette granted little useful insight in those early decades."

Katalin released a wistful sigh and continued. "It was only later, after I left Pinefrost that I witnessed the full myriad of hues and tempos that auras are capable of. And in time learned to read their subtle shifts."

Katalin resumed reading: "Over long years under our roof, I felt my small family slipping further into seclusion to shield my timeless nature from public eye, as my dear wife, Talia and son grew elderly while I remained untouched. Inevitably the day came when my bride passed, leaving behind grieving son and ageless husband. My loyal boy refused to take a bride himself, instead staying to aid his undying father in obscurity."

She shook her head sadly. "When at last my son grew infirm, I could scarcely bear the guilt of seeing another generation sacrificed for my strange plight."

The journal went on, "Finally we sold our Frostpine smithy to settle anonymously in a large city - where none would mark my enduring features by my aged son's side. Yet scarcely a winter later, he too was gone. Leaving me alone and unanchored. His name was Eirik. And I think of him every day..."

Katalin steadied herself. "I stayed in the city for some years but I became afraid someone would notice my unchanging appearance. I then sold off what belongings I could not carry and took to the wandering road without destination. Travel brought one grace - liberty to subtly practice my skills as a metal-shaper while roaming lands where my everlasting face passed unnoticed."

Katalin paused to take another sip of her cider, while Seraphina brought out new candles, and continued reading...

"Early on my travels brought an unexpected gift - I crossed paths with a clever halfling bard named Gideon Goldensong. Though he confessed privately he had invented the colorful name hoping to someday make it famous. We roamed together for years, his wit and lute turning lonely days bright with laughter and song. His face would practically glow listening to crowds applaud his ever-growing skill."

Katalin looked up from the memoir, eyes distant as she imagined her father's long-past adventures. She reached out absently to pluck a bit of rabbit from the nearly forgotten stew her mother had set in front of her earlier, popping it quickly into her mouth. Wiping juices onto her tunic, she was soon lost again in reading the account to the others.

"One particular quest stands out in my memory, a peculiar and unforgettable journey alongside an elderly priestess. It began one night at a remote inn after Gideon had finished a mesmerizing performance. The Venerable Seer Ysolde of the Night's Vigil approached us, her weathered face alight with urgency. She spoke of a dream in which celestial forces commanded her to seek out our aid in retrieving stolen relics - three consecrated weapons that had been taken by a distant necromancer named Malgrym. I was skeptical, but seeing the pure, shimmering white aura surrounding the seer I agreed and convinced Gideon that we should join her mission. And so we embarked, following signs and whispers through treacherous lands. Through each obstacle, we grew closer and stronger, united in our determination to return the Sun Scepter, the Moon Blade, and the Star Chalice to their rightful place. Afterward, Gideon found amusement in crafting whimsical songs about our daring exploits within Malgrym's dark tower."

"The following year, word reached us from his family that Gideon was being called back home to marry a village girl arranged by his parents. I can still recall the pained expression on his face as he begged for my forgiveness for leaving our adventures unfinished."

Katalin paused and smiled, picturing her father and his colorful friend in some dingy tavern boasting of their adventures over tankards of ale. Cassius raised his eyebrows and gave an approving nod at the tale.

Katalin shook off fanciful imaginings and turned several pages onward, scanning entries covering her father's following seasons on the long road. The writings spoke of mountaintop vistas discovered on the wandering trail, humble village kindnesses exchanged for mended tools...quiet echoes of a lonesome peace found traveling far from society's prying eyes.

She continued reading quietly before her eyes suddenly widened. She sharply glanced up at her family, throat tightening.

"Listen to this..." she managed, before beginning to read the shocking passage aloud:

"After Gideon's departure I had not traveled with another companion until fortune delivered another transient band - a motley troop with whom I roamed for a season. The devout cleric West, a hardened cleric surrounded by a flickering golden aura, hot-headed Bur-el the barbarian who thirsted for glorious battle, and the mysterious sorceress who demanded we call her simply Shadow - her preternatural beauty and powers matched only by the chilling darkness I oft glimpsed within her aura's crimson glow."

"West had been tasked by his church," Katalin read aloud slowly, "to uncover why the Uldraeth - an amphibious race known for assaults along the southern coast of the Emberfell Wastes were raiding fishing villages and stealing away as many helpless villagers as they could carry. For months we tracked them, finally catching the cult unaware in a seaside grotto with the missing villagers trapped in a cage above a swirling portal. The dim light of torches flickered against the rough stone walls, casting eerie shadows on the bound captives and the cultists surrounding them. As they looked down at the swirling portal below, a shapeless form began to unfurl, its shimmering tendrils reaching out like a hungry predator. We could see they were preparing to sacrifice another group of captives to the emerging monster.

As West, Bur-el, and I sprinted towards the Uldraeth priest at the altar, my heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination. But before we could reach him, Shadow's dark magic unleashed a deadly fireball towards the innocent prisoners trapped in the cage. The explosion was deafening, silencing the grotto in shock as we watched helplessly as the flames consumed them all.

In that horrific moment, time seemed to stand still as our minds struggled to process the senseless loss of life. But then chaos erupted like a volcano - the form in the portal receded, the surviving Uldraeth scrambled to escape while Bur-el swiftly decapitated the high priest, extinguishing the cursed portal. The ground shook beneath us as dust and debris flew through the air, obscuring our vision and adding to the chaos as we fought our way out. This was a day that would not soon be forgotten, stained with the screams of innocents and the stench of death.

I left my volatile comrades that very night, Shadow's indifferent brutality cementing the abyss between us. Her sinister aura haunts me still."

Katalin slowly lowered the journal, staring blankly ahead as vivid images churned through her mind. She blinked hard, finally glancing up.

Her mother Seraphina had paled, one hand covering her mouth in mute dismay. Garren simply gazed wide-eyed into the fire, slowly shaking his head.

Cassius met Katalin's numb stare. "What became of this merciless Shadow? Did she face no consequences for casually snuffing innocent lives?"

Katalin shook her head. "Father makes no further mention. Only that her brutal indifference drove them apart that very night..." She blinked hard, willing the horrific images from her mind's eye. A heavy silence fell across the room. Immense relief filled her when Garren finally cleared his throat hesitantly.

"I fancy myself quite the well-traveled man. But never have I heard tale of one so...so wicked." He searched for the right words, lamely finishing. "This sorceress Shadow...she sounds like utter soulless evil wearing human form."

Seraphina forced an encouraging smile that didn't reach her eyes. "There must be more uplifting parts as well...adventures and wonders encountered that balance this, er, difficult era." She gestured weakly at the journal. "Perhaps see if there isn't some lighter passage ahead?"

Eager for respite from the chilling tale, Katalin flipped ahead several pages. Immediately her expression brightened. She slowly read an account of a wondrous city Henrik discovered in the east, seeking distance from somber memories:

"I wanted to get away, to outrun bitter recollection, and so traveled far to the east. There I bore witness to cities and temples and pyramids that shame anything we have built here in the west. The memory of one city unfolds like a dream in my mind - immense walls adorned with dragons and phoenixes standing sentinel against the hands of time. Within, the streets pulsed with life - merchants hawking treasures from distant realms, artisans crafting intricate porcelain, the fragrances of spices mingling with the melodies of street performers.

There was a grand canal, a liquid highway of commerce, weaving through the heart of the metropolis, reflecting the arching bridges that led onward to bustling markets and opulent palaces. There were imperial gardens as well, adorned with jade pavilions and blooming orchids, evoking a sense of celestial beauty - a shining jewel amidst that vast land."

Katalin lowered the journal, eyes shining. "Can you imagine it? Oh how I wish we could see this city spring from his words into real form. What sights he must have encountered over two centuries of endless wandering!"

Katalin returned to silently perusing the journal when suddenly she gasped aloud. All eyes turned toward her expectantly.

She looked up, surprise written across her face. She looked to the journal again and read, "'I met a dragon'."

A stunned hush fell across the room. Ever enamored of dragon tales, Cassius practically leapt from his seat, bracing hands on the table. "Well what else then?? What else does father say??"

Katalin flipped hastily to the next page then back under her brother's intense gaze before slowly facing him. "Nothing. That's all it says. 'I met a dragon'. The next entry simply reads 'Spent a decade living among orc tribes in the east'."

Cassius collapsed back into his chair, dumbfounded.

"Dragons and orcs," Garren mused, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Well you cannot deny - your father seems to have led a decidedly interesting life spanning all those years!"

Seraphina glanced out the kitchen window, blinking in surprise as she took in the moon's position. "Good heavens, night has crept past quickly! We should all get some rest so Katalin and Garren can get an early start."

Murmurs of agreement circled the table as everyone began shifting to stand. But Katalin had continued gently flipping through the journal pages. "Oh wait!" she exclaimed, halting their motions. "Father is recounting the days he fell in with those raiders and ended up attacking Stonehaven!"

Curiosity piqued once more, the group settled immediately back onto their benches as Katalin scanned ahead. Cassius leaned forward, hunger in his eyes. "Go on then, what led the man we knew to take up arms?"

Katalin found the passage and began reading:

"When I was ready to leave the east I joined the company of a merchant cog sailing west. Starting as a lowly deckhand, I learned to navigate the rolling sea and withstand the sting of saltwater on my skin. Through years of serving alongside my fellow sailors, I gained their trust and respect, eventually rising to the rank of mate. Together, we guided the sleek vessel across trade routes on the mighty winds, our sails full and our spirits high.

But at the break of dawn one day, while we sailed through the Misted Isles in a thick fog, pirates ambushed us, their ship appearing suddenly out of nowhere. Lost in desperate defense of my crewmates in the skirmish, I attacked the invaders without regard to my safety or of revealing my secrets - later I was told I single-handedly took down over half of the blackguards, either sending them plummeting into the icy depths or ending their lives with swift blows. Though we survived the battle itself, joy turned to horror when the men recounted my impossible feat afterward, now eyeing me with unveiled terror and making signs at me to ward against evil. Shocked and confused, I tried to explain that it was just luck and training that had saved us all. But their irrational fear drove them, insisting I be thrown overboard for consorting with dark magic.

Thankfully, the crew's fear of me prevented them from attacking me on the spot. Our captain stepped in and offered to restrain the men if I agreed to leave the boat. Two days later they forced me ashore at a small island under threat of riot, granting me but a small pouch of coins and some tools and provisions. There I dwelled utterly alone for several years as bitterness toward all men festered in my heart."

Katalin looked up, gazing at her mother's face warmed by the comforting firelight, inhaling the aroma of rabbit stew atop the hearth where they'd shared countless meals over the years. She shivered despite the flames, envisioning her father bereft of humble family worth, deserted through no malice, only misunderstanding of his profound gifts. Would friends and strangers now fear her if they learned of her strange abilities as well? She turned the page.

"Unbeknownst to me, another ship eventually dropped anchor in the secluded cove. My eyes remained fixed on my small fire, where I numbly cooked the fish I had caught. The salty sea air mingled with the smoky aroma of my meal, but my senses were dulled and I barely took notice. It wasn't until a group of twelve burly cutthroats prowled up the strand that I finally snapped out of my daze. They formed a ring around me, their menacing figures casting intimidating shadows in the dwindling light of the day."

Katalin resumed reading slowly. "In my addled isolation I reacted without restraint when one of the bandits raised his axe and lunged towards me, his crazed eyes fixed on my throat. Without hesitation, I used all my strength and flung him aside, smashing him onto the rocks, the sound of bones snapping echoing through the air. For a short moment the only sound was the lapping of waves as I braced myself for combat. Yet instead of outrage at their comrade's death, the bandit chief Saevus saw an opportunity for gain - offering me a place among his ruthless crew if I desired to once again feel the open sea beneath my feet."

She glanced up solemnly before continuing. "Eager at prospect of escape from that cursed isle, I accepted - though only as a blacksmith not raider. I had to prove my worth at forge and fittings but mostly they accepted my reticence. Save the occasional drunkard spoiling to goad the boat's strange new member into battle. Such brawls never lasted long even though I took pains to hide my full capacities. I did just enough damage to maintain a spectacle and send them limping back to their bunks."

Katalin slowed her cadence, tone growing ominous. "Yet fortunes turned when my band set sights on striking the newly rising Stonehaven Keep. I remained guarding our vessels as the party stormed off eagerly...only to soon come limping back, their brazen raid turned into a rout. I sprinted towards my trailing comrades, my feet pounding against the sand amidst the screams and shouts of the combat raging across the beach. I slung one man over my shoulder and grabbed another, determined to get them out of harm's way. But in an instant, disaster struck - a mounted knight rode upon us like a thundering storm. I looked back and just had time to see Barron Cedric himself, his armor glinting menacingly in the sunlight before he delivered a brutal swing of his warhammer, and everything went black as pain exploded through my skull."

She touched a hand gingerly to her own head in sympathy. "Never before or since have I endured such sheer agony - like lightning setting my brain aflame. Mercifully I collapsed into blackness quickly...coming to days later chained in Stonehaven's deepest pit, blood and filth caking my matted hair where I'd been struck."

"Later I learned that Branthor Bloodaxe, one of my shipmates, had tried to buy his freedom with tales of my being a demon come to feed on the innocent. Branthor was the man I had slung over my shoulder when I was struck down. He had never liked me."

Katalin briefly scanned the subsequent pages and glanced up. "The next parts describe father's time at Stonehaven under scrutiny and working the forge later on. But you already told me those stories yourself."

Katalin briefly scanned the page and glanced up, "But ah, here's a charming note..."

A wistful smile rose as she read aloud, "At Edgar's grand celebration upon his elevation to duke I had the opportunity to dance with your mother. 'Even at so young an age, Sera possessed elegance and grace to rival any royal. I was wiser than I knew in declining the Duke's drunken offer of his niece, Lady Maribella's hand that night. I simply kissed his ring, citing the great honor, and I never mentioned the offer again. Nor did the Duke.'"

Katalin grinned up at her mother. "Father wrote you were a far finer match than the Lady."

Seraphina raised her eyebrows in surprise but then smiled. "Well your father was always a wise man it seems." At that she did a playful curtsy. "And no question I made a far better wife than Lady Maribella could."

Katalin smiled and said, "Of course mother."

Seraphina nodded wistfully. "I wish I could have been with him to share in some of those wondrous adventures - the nice ones. Like seeing that city in the east. Or traveling with a bard. Can you even imagine..."

With that, everyone rose stiffly from the fading fire to prepare for bed. Seraphina led Garren toward a small guest room, bidding him goodnight. Katalin and Cassius hugged long under the rafters, words failing to capture the roiling blend of revelation, grief and pride filling their tired hearts.

At long last they parted - disappearing one by one to get a few precious hours rest with images of pirates and far off eastern cities floating through their dreams.