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The not-immortal Blacksmith
084 The Not-Immortal Blacksmith II – The Big Ship Sailed VII

084 The Not-Immortal Blacksmith II – The Big Ship Sailed VII

City of Dragon, Snows Provence, Kingdom of Garthia

36th of Anael, the first month of snow.

From the journal of Maxwell Smithson…

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Copulation with the spawn of a sea spider! There is a problem.

-

Maxwell strolled into the Temple of the Twelve, smiled at the well-muscled priest (who had several hangers on) and stepped behind the statue of Wisdom. He knocked on where the door had been the other day, and waited for a thirty count, then knocked again. A few moments later the door opened, and Max entered The Library.

He smiled at Acolyte Shamus, and thanked him for his help on his last visit, ordered a couple of specific books on translation, and asked for a book on the history of the region. More than a little shocked at the about face from last time, Shamus scurried off to collect the requested books.

Max sat alone at the table he had used on his last visit, and laid out his much-increased number of rubbings from the wall of the well. He had just finished when Shamus returned with the pile of requested books.

“Thank you, Acolyte Shamus.” Max said. “If I require anything else I will use the bell.” Shamus smiled, and scampered off to report that the Heretic was back.

Several hours passed, and taking a break from translating the well writings, Max moved to a lounging couch and took some time to read the short book about the region’s history. About halfway through, he straightened up a bit, a few more pages, and he had bolted up from the couch and was ringing the service bell.

Shamus stepped into the lounge area, “You range sir?”

“I need every book you have about “The Elemental Well”.” Max all but shouted. “And I need it sometime yesterday.”

“I’m sorry sir, we don’t deliver to the past.”

Max took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “It’s a figure of speech.”

Shamus snapped to attention, gave a salute, and hustled off into the stacks.

-

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Elsewhere in the library, a discussion was going on.

“What is the Heretic researching?” Wisdom asked her assistant.

“According to the records, translation of archaic god script.” The assistant paused a moment to refer to a sheaf of paper in her hands, “And the history around the town of Dragon.”

“Do we know where he found the old text?”

“Something about a well in that area, that was what Acolyte Shamus reported.”

“A well…Old script…” Confusion crept across Wisdom’s face. “What did he find? Get me the books he was using. I would like to know what the man is up to.”

“Yes goddess.” The assistant bowed and departed.

-

Max sped through the remainder of the history book, and put it down. Huh, Shamus isn’t back yet, he thought. I’m quite surprised.

Over half an hour later, Shamus returned empty handed, “I’m sorry sir, the information you have requested is in the restricted section and I am unable to retrieve it.”

With a sigh, Max stood up, “Please take me to the head librarian. I guess I will have to deal with them.”

“Yes sir.” Shamus smiled, “Right this way.”

Another half hour passed as Shamus took Max to the libraries office and knocked on the open door, “Ma’am? Mr. Smithson is here to see you.”

“Very good Shamus, you may go.” The head librarian said, then stood to her full three-and-a-half-foot height, “Maxwell! So good to see you again!”

For his part, Max just stood and stared at the goddess of Wisdom. “…”

“Now, I know we haven’t been on the best footing this past…almost thousand years, but do come in and tell me what is going on.” Wisdom said in that kind librarian voice she used on people she actually liked. “You do know that I actually like you, right?”

Max stepped in, sat in the overstuffed chair that appeared for him, and shook his head. “I was not aware of that.”

“I don’t give books to people I don’t like. Especially not ones from my own personal collection.” She smiled. “It is chock full of recipes that I do enjoy, but I thought you would get better use from it than I ever did. It had belonged to my grandmother, Goddess Serrhen of the Hearth and Home.”

“…” Max stared at the goddess as she spoke, and could hear the capitals in each word. “Th…then thank you for the gift.”

“You are very welcome.” Wisdom sat down, “Now what has you in such a tizzy?”

Wishing he had brought his notes, Max recounted his tale, “Grendel found some children in a dried out old well in Dragon. The well contained some strange writing, and since I finally had time, I decided to check it out.”

“Abbreviated, but I understand.” Wisdom poured two cups of tea from a service that hadn’t been there a moment before, and offered one to Max. “But why are you in a tizzy?

Max distractedly took the cup, “The history book I was just reading about the area said the well had been there since before the town was founded, and that it protected the whole area from storms. The well was named “The Elemental Well”.”

Wisdom nodded and took a sip of tea, “I understand so far, please continue.”

“The partial translation I have been able to complete?” Max said, voice containing a slight tremble, “They were all warding and binding spells.”

Wisdom spat out her tea.

-

Grendel and the well children stood next to the well that had saved them.

“Do you think we should roll that big rock that used to seal the well back over here?” One of the children asked, “It and the well are all that’s left from…” He sniffled, “From before.”

Grendel nodded to the child, a boy some two years his younger, “We can try.”

The group trotted off to gather rope to pull the large boulder back to the well.