Interlude

Era led Errrkkkk and Riakon out the backdoor of Bo’s house and into the backyard. Errrkkkk immediately took notice of the burly bearded man dressed in a military- like uniform. His hair was cut short leaving just the impression he had hair if he so chose. He sat impatiently on one of the large boulders Bo used for his landscaping, when Era addressed the man to get his attention, “Jorn.”

The bearded man hopped off his seat and stood. When he spoke his deep voice seemed to vibrate the air around him.

“Well it’s about time. You left me out here waiting on who knows what. Are you going to tell me why I am here?” His words carried a sense of obvious irritation.

Era rolled her eyes, “brother we are here so I can introduce you to this one.” As she spoke she ushered Riakon forward with her hand.

The man she called Jorn looked at Riakon and blinked unimpressed.

“And why would I care to meet a Dragonkin?”

Era put a hand to her brow stupefied at her brother’s ignorance.

“Brother, this Dragonkin is Riakon, and he is your son.” She said the words calmly and clearly so there would be no mistake in their meaning.

A collective drawn out “whhhhaaaaat?!” came from both Riakon and Jorn.

Era just nodded at their dumbfounded expressions, “yes yes. Riakon this is your father Erjorn, God of War and Strength. Brother, this is your son Riakon, formerly of my temple in the Kregen Peaks.”

Erjorn was no less confused by her declaration, “wait wait wait, how the hell did I have a Dragonkin son?”

Era tilted her head to the side and gave him a stern, yet condescending look, “really? You don’t remember?”

Erjorn grimaced, “oh…yeah…damn.”

Era nodded, “yes damn indeed. Whatever spell was keeping his identity clouded from us has been lifted so now here he is and one of your most recent converts I might add. You recall that divine mandate you issued recently?”

Erjorn scratched the back of his head, “oh yeah, that drunk of a priest in Port Sept called and I gave the guy a ridiculous mission to kill a bunch of dragons.” He laughed as he recounted the story. “Man that guy did some fucked up shit to need a mandate of that level.”

Era rubbed her temples with two fingers on each hand. She took a big breath, “Jorn, he is the one who you gave that mandate to…”

It took the big man a few seconds to register all of the implications that came with Era’s declaration. When he had finally caught up he gave Riakon a long once over.

“Well on the bright side you managed to slay one dragon so far.” He said with an uneasy grin toward Riakon.

Riakon spoke for the first time since being confronted with his father, “uhhhh yeah, me and the guys handled it.”

Errrkkkk clucked, but was gently hushed by Era.

Erjorn looked around as if trying to find something, “look uhhhh me and my boy here have a lot to talk about so we’re gonna head over there.” He gestured to an area at the far end of Bo’s yard. “And have a father son chat.”

Era gave him an approving look, “that is probably for the best.”

Erjorn put a big arm around Riakon’s shoulders as they walked away from Errrkkkk and the goddess. When they were comfortably out of earshot, Era turned to Errrkkkk.

“You are probably wondering what your place in all of this is, hmm?” She said it softly, her voice as gentle and calming as the sun in spring.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“You said you were going to tell me where I come from, cacaw.”

“Yes, just as Riakon is to be introduced to his parent so are you. There is no easy way to say this, but I am your mother.”

Surprise and astonishment erupted across Errrkkkk’s face as his whole understanding of the world began to crack.

“How, cacaw?” was all he could manage.

Era got a faraway look in her eyes before she told him the story of his conception. She told of the early days of Mir when divine beings were just beginning to manifest. She told him of her time as a primordial apparition of the Sun. How she came to know his father Zyz the First Wind. She told him of how they coexisted in a time before the gods in the earliest days of humans on Mir.

The tone of her story changed as she told of the primordial purge. She described with few details an ancient time when primordials were being cast out of the collective unconscious of the world. Many were simply left out of the newly forming religions and slowly evaporated into figments and memories.

She told him how Zyz began to suffer while she rose to a higher position as a goddess. They combined their powers to create a safe space for him to dwell separate from the dissolving influence of the collective unconsciousness of their progenitors.

That sanctuary had become known as the Plane of Air, a world made up of nothing, but vast skies and powerful winds. The birthplace of the avian peoples, all of whom are descended from Zyz in some capacity, although genetic relation gets muddled when dealing with beings of pure magical energy.

Errrkkkk couldn’t help, but inquire about the details surrounding his birth to which Era told him plainly,

“You come from the love between Zyz and I in a moment. You are our son and we love you, that is all there is for you to know.” She said it with watery eyes.

She opened her arms invitingly, “would you be willing to give your mother a hug?”

Tears welled up in Errrkkkk’s eyes as he nodded and slowly moved within her embrace. They shared that beautiful moment together, just mother and son.

On the other side of Bo’s yard was the pair of Riakon and Erjorn. Despite their closeness they walked awkwardly to their spot. When they stopped Erjorn turned to Riakon,

“Alright my boy let me get a good look at you.” He studied the big Dragonkin, “not bad there big guy.”

“Uhh thanks dad.” The phrase sounded foreign as Riakon had never said those words in that order ever before.

Erjorn scratched his beard and scrunched up his nose, “how about you just call me Jorn for now. Dad feels a bit much.”

“Fair enough, Jorn.” Riakon agreed. “So Tiamat huh?”

Jorn got a sheepish expression on his face, “yeah she’s a tricky one.”

Riakon raised an eyebrow at his newly found father, “tricky?”

“Tricky, is one way to put it, but that doesn’t matter.” A goofy grin spread on the big man’s face. “My boy is a badass dragon slayer!”

Riakon smothered the grimace that nearly gave him away, “oh yeah that. We took care of that dragon alright.”

Jorn gave Riakon a slap on the shoulder, “hey you keep that up and we’ll get you all your powers back.”

Riakon frowned, “what do you mean? You can’t restore them now?”

Jorn shook his head, “no it is the divine mandate, you have to complete your holy mission to fully restore your connection to the divine. I’m impressed you managed to take down a lieutenant of Tiamat without any divine magic as a paladin.”

Riakon gave the shakiest forced smile of his life, “the guys really helped make up the difference, but I did my part.”

Jorn patted Riakon on the back, “hey that’s great a win is a win! Now tell me son, how does my boy fight a dragon?”

Riakon did his best to tell Jorn the story of their fight with the dragon on the Peaks of the Violet Mountains. He embellished his own involvement and left out being accidentally swallowed, but in the end it was a tale that put everyone in a good light.

Jorn seemed to approve, but after Riakon finished he looked around as if trying to find something, when it was clear he wasn’t finding it he looked to Riakon.

“Where is your hammer?”

“My hammer? I lost it in– it was destroyed during the fight with the dragon.”

Jorn frowned, “what?! Then what are you using as a weapon now?”

It was Riakon’s turn to frown as he reached back and produced the whip Roden had given him. The look on Erjorn’s face was as if Riakon had shit in his hand and held it out for him to shake.

“Absolutely fucking not! No son of mine will be using a fucking whip like some masochistic gimp.”

Jorn immediately looked around for something and fixed his sights on another of Bo’s large landscaping boulders. He strode up to the rock and slammed his hand into it in an overhand chop that split the boulder in half.

He lifted up one half between his meaty hands and squeezed the rock which began to glow an orangish golden color. In seconds the half-boulder was compressed down to the size of a cinder block. He did the same to the second half and then jabbed a finger through the center making a hole in one before rolling the second between his hands manipulating the rock like playdough.

When he was finished he’d fastened the longer one through the center of the still squashed lump of stone. After a few more minutes, Riakon noticed it was starting to take on a hammer-like shape. Jorn shaved off small layers with his fingernails and added little embellishments here and there. After a few more minutes of Jorn grunting, inspecting, and shaping he presented Riakon with his creation.

The result was a hammer made entirely out of rock and divine magic. The head of the hammer was a dark stone flecked with dark red crystals speckled throughout it. Both faces of the hammer were rough and irregular. The shaft was thick grey stone that tapered from the head to an easy one handed grip midway down that ended with a solid stone pommel to prevent slipping.

Riakon looked at the weapon with a mix of awe and uncertainty. While incredible to receive a weapon from his father, who also happened to be the God of War. He’d watched him make it out of a common stone.

Riakon reached out and took the weapon from Erjorn’s grasp. Immediately the weight of the thing nearly caused him to drop it until his ring’s magic activated and worked against the weapon’s enormous heft.

Jorn smirked, “it’s a bit heavy huh?” he said, scratching his beard.

Riakon struggled despite his ring, but managed a few slow practice swings.

“It’s a bit heavy, but I’ll get used to it, I think.” Riakon said, through grunts of effort.

“No no, here.” Jorn took the hammer back with ease. He placed a hand on the side of the hammer’s head and traced a line down to the stone pommel. He then presented it back for Riakon to take. “Try that.”

Riakon gripped the hammer again and found it just as heavy, but significantly easier to hold and swing.

Jorn looked on with approval, “there it is! Good good now let's cook up some warrior magic, can’t have my boy running around out here without any magic to back him up.”