Black Water, White Dragon

Part 1; The Water, chapter 1, part 6

By the time the men returned, the sun had long since set beyond Plainsvale, the 'ridge and the swamps or desert or ocean in the west. The two youngest were in bed, and Gran snoozed in her chair. Etin was still up, together with Mama, and she returned to the window to gaze, time and time again. The stars were hidden behind clouds, the small half moon was weak and faint under a veil of clouds and smoke, and the greater moon - despite near full - had only barely started to rise above distant peaks.

The night was oppressively dark against the tiny lights of people, hear at the western edge of the Green Country Radanrand. The capital Kent Lazpar was all the way out by the eastern coast, many miles away, through wilderness, mountain regions and deep forests, and it was a small and lonely community of humans that sought towards the dwarves in the north instead.

What was left of them, anyway. There was still a heavy stench of smoke in the air, and Etin turned away from darkness and night to calm nervous fingers combing through Gran's hair. Gran woke barely, grunted with pleasure, and fell asleep again.

Pa came in first, saying, "we have guests. Make sure they're well."

Anbar led a sooty and dirty dwarf up the stone steps. The dwarf was unsteady and breathed heavily, but Mama caught him in strong arms. Etin gathered cushions and blankets and made a bench for him in front of the hearth. The dwarf sunk into them with a sigh. He was dressed in a thick leather tunic covered in tiny metal rings, on his shoulder was a pin with a black stone, and on his back was a giant axe. It probably wasn't for cutting wood. Hair and beard was black and plaited, fastened at the ends with miniature rings of a yellow metal. On his feet were heavy boots, they too covered in ash and dust and mud. He breathed deeply, but started coughing instead. Mama waved Etin over to the keg in the corner, and she hurried to fill a mug of beer for him.

She had no sooner sat down at Gran's feet, before Pa returned with another dwarf. He was narrower round the waist, his eyes darted around the room and those within, he was a little short of breath, but nowhere near as dirty as the first. He was dressed in a kirtle of red and orange, a cap of thin, orange leather, and his lightbrown hair and beard was curled, brushed and trimmed. On his fingers were plenty of jewelled rings. Etin thought they looked familiar - was he the dwarf she had seen first? On his feet were soft and pointed leather bootlets, and around his neck was a chain of yellow metal. He sat down beside the other dwarf, legs crossed, and introduced himself as "Terrekrin, but please just call me Terre, and since I unfortunately have no knowledge of my co-refugee or his name, he must speak his own name, I'm afraid."

The war-clad dwarf coughed again, said "Sarakhan", and drank deeply of the beer.

Pa drew a stool over from the dining table and sat down heavily. He smelled sharply of smoke and sweat.

"Refugees? What has happened? And what was the smoke? Are there more?" Mama barely took the time to breathe, and looked anxiously from the dwarves to Pa and back again. Pa shook his head while she put a mug in the hand of the richly clad Terrekrin.

"There were many dead," said Pa. "They were knocked out by the smoke. Some were burned, but most looked to be poisoned by the air." He looked at the dwarves.

Terrekrin nodded and dried the corner of his eye with his sleeve. "Most are dead or dying. Your eminent neighbour - was that Brookstone his name was? He brought home a couple, and I hope and pray those who escaped alive down in the valley found shelter with the farmers living there. But how many will survive the night? The explosions - at least at this end of the mountain were too terrible, too sudden. They came from the deep and spread so fast . I cannot fathom - you cannot imagine! - how many ended their lives. Fire, explosions, smoke - and we lost..."

"We should say as little as possible," Sarakhan broke in. "I need to go to the capital and speak to the chief of the humans." He coughed so badly the rafters and windows rang. It was a rasping old man's cough that fitted the powerful warrior equipment badly. Etin heard her little brothers mumble up in the attic, before they fell back to sleep.

Terrekrin looked like he was about to argue, but then he peered at the pin on Sarakhan's shoulder. "Are you of the Master's Guard?" He sounded awed. Etin wondered what that was, but didn't dare to ask.

Sarakhan replied, "am - or was. That depends on who lives."

Terrekrin shook his head. "I can't See anything about that, I fear." He looked at their confused faces and explained, "my apologies! I have forgotten to announce my profession; I am an Enchanter, that is - I can imbue objects with magical properties, but the Gods have also seen fit to endow me with a little True Seeing. So I See. A little. Enough to keep me alive and two steps ahead of the problems of life - but no more than that." He grimaced - part smile, part sadness - and continued, "but I agree with the Guard Sarakhan that the ruling powers among the human kindred must be informed of our plight. And they are in the famous Kent Lazpar, are they not?"

Pa nodded. "Aye. Kent Lazpar is where our Kindred was created and where the king lives. We will provide food and shelter until you are ready to undertake the journey. It is a long walk."

Mama dug up a bowl of porridge and a knob of butter for each of them. Etin followed with spoons and cloths to wipe their hands. She bumped into Terrekrin's fingers as she gave him the cutlery, and he jumped. He stared at her for a moment, then said, "we would do well to bring a scout among the humans. Someone to speak for us and help us with their ways."

"The young man, then," said Sarakhan, but he looked confused. Etin also wondered why they would need it, but she was even more confused and suprised by Terrekrin's answer.

"No," he said. "The girl. She is of a suitable age to see Saylese's temple and meet her Makers anyway, is she not?"

Me?

Pa shook his head. "Only nobles and magically Gifted go to the temple for the Spirit-rite, or an education. We have no titles, and there have been no Gifted here in many generations."

"You have one now," said Terrekrin and nodded to Etin.

Me? Etin couldn't think anymore. It was too much.

Pa looked from Terrekrin to his daughter with a deep frown. Etin knew he loved her. Now she saw the joy change to pride, and she felt her own joy blossom like a rose in her chest.

And then it withered. Terrekrin must be mistaken.

Mama gaped until she noticed it herself and shut her mouth. She said, "is it true? By all the Gods and Powers - a Gift in the middle of everything?"

It couldn't be true.

Sarakhan stared at them thoughtfully. "Well," he said, finally, "they say you need a Gift to see a Gift."

Terrekrin only looked at Etin, his brown eyes boring into hers. "It does," he said. The grimace was turning into a genuine smile. Was it true? He continued, "and I can See you have it, little one - but I cannot See anything about the what or the how."

It had to be true? Why would he lie? Etin asked carefully, "and you, Master Terrekrin, what kind of Gift do you have?"

"Etin," Mama said sternly, "they have just escaped a terrible destruction."

But Terrekrin's warm smile did not disappear - though the reminder made his eyes a little more haunted. He drew a wax candle out of a pocket in his robe. With a flick of his fingers he lit it and then he started moving it around. The flame kept still. Did not wave or flicker. Did not even eat of wick or wax. It didn't even touch his fingers. Etin and her family stared wide eyed - even Gran seemed to wake a little.

"I am a generalist," Terrekrin said. "I know a little about many realms, but my favoured realm is Fire; flame and heat. Here, young lady, this is for you." He gave Etin the candle and she received it in wonder and awe. A real Enchantment. She waved it a little, like Terrekrin had done, and the flame stayed just as still and dependable. The fire was hot and real, but it didn't burn and stayed obediently on the end of the wick. What a thing to bring into the barn on a dark morning - a safe light!

What if she really had a Gift. What if she could learn to make this herself for Ma and Pa. Out loud, she said, "Mama, I really want to go with them and learn!"

Mama and Pa looked at each other - hope and fear in equal measure. "We will talk about it," Mama replied finally. "Let the guests eat in peace, and you and Anbar go to bed."

But Etin saw a longing gaze in Mama's eyes. A gaze that said they had just lost so much, and even though she hated to let her daughter go, it would be very much easier to rebuild with a trained Gifted in the family.