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The not-immortal Blacksmith
019 The Not-Immortal Blacksmith II – Fae

019 The Not-Immortal Blacksmith II – Fae

Gurakzar, Dwarven Kingdom of Hasandri.

4th of Anael, First month of Snow.

2290 years since the New Gods came.

7:03 pm

As the smoke dissipated from the shot, a ball of lead, cold iron, silver, and a special mix of herbs and spices hung spinning in mid-air, just inches from Grandmother Spirits face.

Eyes wide and face even paler than before, Spirits stepped back from the deadly bullet. Brandy's great-grandmother twitched her pinkie, and the ball flew above the ladies of the Fae, and into the roof. “You vaguely impress me. Boy.” She pushed her daughter to the side. “And don't think I don't see you raising your hand, god of craft.” She then looked farther to Maxwell's right and bowed, “Darkness. It is good to see you again, old friend.”

Sarah nodded slightly in return. “Young Li-quor, a pleasure to be back, if for only a small while.”

Great-Grandmother Li-quor turned back to Maxwell, eyes locked onto his, “We accept your offer of hospitality.”

Room was rapidly made at the high table. Mother Wine was sat next to her daughter, Grandma Spirit between the dwarven and elven kings, and Li-quor next to Sarah.

-

Deacon Alexander looked to his table mate, Willa 'Repute', “So, how have you been entangled into this?”

“We work...worked...have dealings with the same organization? Maxwell...observed while I did my job...” The middle aged woman was clearly uncomfortable sitting in a place with so many eyes upon her.

“Ah. At least you got to know him.” Alexander replied, “I just talked to him over the sending stone. Now I'm here as both a guest of his lordsh...Max, and as a representative of Demoia.” He frowned. “I just wanted to work with the stone network and become a Runemaster.”

Willa gave a small sigh, “And I just wanted to run my guild.” They looked at each other, and laughed.

-

At their table to the side of the main one, the three heroes watched the Fae. “The three ladies of the Winter court.” Chester Grants gasped out. “This. This is more concerning than I thought. God above, save me from this nightmare.”

“I don't think god will save any of us.” Magni Larssen said around a bite of properly steamed and seasoned fish. “Even if he did, we would probably all end up in hell.”

Nomvula tore her eyes from the long eared English, and looked at her companions, “You might go to this 'hell' place, but I won't. I believe in my gods, and they like me.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Magni laughed. “Then you are a lucky, girl. I wish I had your faith.”

“I could attempt to teach you, ape, but I don't know that you would understand.” Nomvula replied, laughing.

Chester rolled his eyes towards the heavens, “Lord, save me from these heathens.”

-

Prince Lancil was speaking quietly into a sending stone. “That's right. Cancel Plans 1 through 4, as well as 6, 7, 9, and 14.” He waited for a few moments. “Yes I am sure. Remove the blackmail information in the Heretic file; It is worthless to us.” He waited again, longer this time, then sighed. “Do I need to remind you who I am?” He muttered a few words under his breath, then crushed the stone in his hand. Glancing up to his table mates; a farming couple and a young dressed up street rat child; he said “My apologies for that. Good help is hard to find.”

The farmer nodded, “Yup.”

“Now if you could continue with your explanation of the benefits of cow manure as opposed to horse or pigs?” Lancil asked, genuine interest crossing his face, “I have a few acres that need restoration...”

The young boy listened intently as well.

-

7:30 pm

Maxwell and Briana took a last drink of wine, and stood from the head table. Max walked to the right, and Bri to the left. They met each other on the other side and held hands. Sarah, having lost the rock/paper/sword match with Bjorn, stood facing the great hall and the several hundred guests. “I present to you this evening, this couple who will be reciting their vows of engagement.” Sarah announced. The hall quieted almost immediately.

“I Maxwell Smithson...” A not sober Max read his vows.

“I Briana Smithson...” A not sober Briana read her vows.

“I hereby announce you man and wife.” Sarah read her bit aloud. The hall erupted with cheering and applause. Then it sank in.

Anna stood up from the table, knocking her chair over in her haste, “MAND AND WIFE?!?”

Sarah looked at her page, “That's what it says...Shit.” Max and Bri looked at each other, then at the carefully scripted words on the page.

“...Well...” Max looked at Briana, “Um...”

Through the open doors of the hall a warm breeze blew, carrying with it the smells of spring, and thunder storms. A pair of men walked in, and where they stepped, flowers and grass grew. One was light of skin, the other dark, and both were beautiful to behold. The pair approached the head table and bowed slightly. Then, in melodic voices, they spoke in unison, “We have arrived for this grand occasion to bestow a gift, as it seems that our opposite number has given one as well.”

Maxwell and Briana stared at the beautiful men.

“We of the summer bless you, oh happy couple, with the knowledge that the fruits of your labor will be healthy, wise, and well versed in knowledge.” The darker of the two then looked at Grandmother Spirit, “Once lover of mine, your gift was ill timed, but we hope things will work out for the best.” The pair of men turned around and departed in the following silence.

Brandywine stared down the table at Grandmother Spirit, “Grandmother! What have you done?!?”

-

Prince Lancil laughed at the proceedings at the head table. Who slipped the wrong pages to the couple? He was in mid laugh when the summer kings entered the hall. He stopped laughing. Oh shit. Shit shit shit. Things just got real. He pulled a second sending stone from a pocket, and started talking almost immediately. “Rescind plans 42-53. Do it now. The KINGS are actively on the table.” He took a deep breath. “Yes. Okay. Yes plan 19, 23, and 16 as well. Thanks for the reminder.” A few more breaths as he listened. “You what now?” His face turned stormy. “No. That idiot! A second wave?” His eyes began to spark lightning. “Yes it's been more than a hundred years. So what? Who makes these stupid rules! They're going to ruin everything!” His left hand clenched, and small purple drops fell from it onto the table, making smoldering spots. “No, not him. Please... Unholy hells. Alright. I will be back after the party is done. Oh, let the kitten rations free, and up the storage of the puppies, an...arrangement... was made earlier.” A few deep breathes passed. “Yes I know they are your favorite, and I don't care about the 'environmental impact'. Just see to it.” He placed the stone back in his pocket, and looked to his dinner companions, “I'm sorry about that, but duty called.”

The farmer and his wife nodded. “Yup. It happens.”