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Chapter 14

  “Sometimes there is more to a simple tool than meets the eye.” —Hat’e Grey-Tip, blacksmith of the Lycani valley tribe, teaching a lesson to his apprentice that went over the youngster’s head.

  Tower Castle, Cryptonia, Ground Plane

  Titus and Jasper heard the smithy before they arrived. The ring of a hammer reached them from the salle, and it ceased just as the pair stopped under the awning outside. The smith—an elf, to Jasper’s surprise—was preparing to quench a piece of metal he had been working. It had already cooled from red to its natural black iron but sizzled and popped as he lowered it into the trough of oil. The residue caught light when he withdrew it a few moments later, and the craftsman waved it through the air to let it cool naturally. Sitting on a barrel nearby was another elf who appeared to have been keeping him company.

  “Markiel!” Titus raised his hand in greeting. “And Idein as well, good. That saves us a trip next door.” The elves looked up. Markiel’s violet eyes twinkled. He was fair skinned like most people from Earth would picture elves, but he was thickly built, and his face was considerably more angular. He reminded Jasper of a Viking, though Markiel’s features were not as hard. His hair was a tight braid pulled back over his scalp and a headband prevented sweat from running into his eyes. He had a pristine goatee with a waxed mustache. Idein was of a similar stature, but his hair and triangular beard was jet black. His eyes were piercing blue, and his face had a faraway look to it, as if he spent much time considering the future. Markiel set aside the hinge he had been working on and used a small towel to wipe his hands and smiled.

  “Good day, Ser Titus, Lord Jasper, and a fine one it is,” The smith nodded respectfully.

  “Hello,” Jasper smiled, glancing around the forge. Despite the elder beings before him, he could not tear his gaze away from the amazing workspace. It was a similar setup to ones he had seen before, but also very different. Many of the tools hanging from the wall and resting on the benches looked more like prize pieces Markiel had built instead of the implements used by a blacksmith. They were beautifully wrought and covered in the blocky script used by the elves. The anvil had an engraving of mountains on the side. It was clearly a representation of the peaks to the north. Several diamonds were set in the sky above the etchings as stars.

  The forge itself was a large stone oven-like structure. A small opening in the front allowed Markiel to work the coals and access his current project. Evidently, he had only been tempering the hinge since the fire was merely hot, not a full blaze. The outside of the forge was also covered in beautiful illustrations and runes.

  “Sweet Jesus,” Jasper gasped, looking around in amazement. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “Just simple tools for a simple metalworker,” said Markiel offering his hand. Jasper took it and was astounded by the strength of his grip. “It is good to make your acquaintance, ser.”

  “I am also glad to finally meet you, Lord. I have heard much and look forward to seeing what your future entails.” Idein bowed, thumping his chest with a closed fist.

  “That’s pretty sinister,” Jasper said, giving Idein an uneasy glance, but the other elf’s polite and honest manner appealed to him. “I’m happy to meet you both as well. Are you from the mountains like Fern?” He pointed to the anvil and forge’s decorations. “She has told me a little, but I would like to learn more when we have some time.”

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  “We are, Lord,” Markiel nodded. “My family is not the Lady Fernilla’s, though the three of us come from the same kingdom.”

  “She is my distant cousin by blood,” said Idein with an indulgent smile. “But that is a long story, not fit for small talk. We would be honored to share with you our history and lore when there is time and place.”

  “We will have to share dinner one evening,” Jasper smiled.

  “We shall,” Markiel nodded. “Is there something specific you needed at the present, sers? I see you are well-armed.” He indicated the sword at Jasper’s hip. “May I see it?”

  “Nothing at the moment, merely being given the tour. And of course.” Jasper carefully drew the weapon and handed it over, hilt-first.

  “This word,” Markiel touched the etched Norse letters gently, trying to decipher them. Idein joined him and studied the sword. “What does it say?”

  “The name of the blade smith who made it and weapons like it, it is believed. It is a copy of an original,” Jasper explained. “Or it was. When I arrived, evidently the Land believed that I needed the real deal.”

  “It is remarkably balanced. And flexible.” Idein took it from his fellow and made a few slow passes with the sword.

  “The historians of my world believe that the original smith had discovered a special way to mix metals to make them more durable and, as you noticed, flexible.” He held out his hand and Idein returned the sword. Jasper placed the point on a large wooden support beam and pressed. The blade warped drastically before bouncing back into its original shape when he eased away. There was no damage, and the weapon remained perfectly true. Both of the elves’ eyes widened. “I tested it earlier when Titus returned it to me just to be sure of what had happened.”

  “Goodness,” Markiel whispered, his interest reignited. “A human smith made this without magic?”

  “To the best of my knowledge, yes,” Jasper laughed and allowed them to study the sword again. The blacksmith in particular seemed enamored with it. “The true methods the craftsman used have been lost to time. Only a few dozen original pieces exist in my world anymore, and they are nearly priceless. None are fully whole, though their material makeup has caused them to be extremely resilient, and most stood the test of time well.”

  “That is amazing indeed. Many of our people’s blades are quite durable due to the combination of metalwork and their magical nature.” The smith patted the anvil reverently. “This relic is one such piece. Dura’iah is its name.” Jasper cocked his head.

  “What does it mean?”

  “‘Ever-hard,’” Markiel grinned proudly.

  “A perfect name for an anvil,” Jasper chuckled. “I would like to watch you work sometime. I have some appreciation for blacksmiths and even dabbled a bit in my own world. I never made anything as beautiful as your tools, though.” Markiel chuckled, a deep rumble in the immortal’s chest that reverberated down through his muscled legs.

  “I would be happy to teach, if my Lord is willing to learn. Our skill is not a quick one and may take some time—so much that you may not be able to spare.”

  “I would be honored,” Jasper nodded. “This world amazes me over and over; I want to learn as much as possible.”

  “It is rare to meet a man interested in elven craft purely for the purpose of knowledge,” Markiel said sagely. “Most wish to steal away our secrets to give themselves greater power.” His gold eyes peered into Jasper’s face. “I sense this is not the case with you. I will happily show my Lord our people’s skill with metal and fire. I believe my kinsman would likewise be amicable to display his stone magai.”

  “Indeed,” Idein smiled broadly. “Thank you for sharing with us this wonderful thing from another world.” They bowed respectfully, and Titus stepped closer to his lord.

  “I am sorry to interrupt, ser, but there is more we should see if you wish to continue seeing the castle today.”

  “Of course. Tour first, personal curiosity later.” Jasper offered his hand once more to the elves, and they each shook it in turn. “I will see you again, my friends. Come to me or Calian if you have need of anything.”

  “We await your pleasure, Lord Jasper,” said Markiel. The pair of elves smiled and watched the humans depart.

  “He is different.” Idein observed thoughtfully. “His grounded air is a refreshing contrast to Lerontis.”

  “And did you not see the light around him?” Markiel added.

  “Mm.” The former crossed his arms and leaned against the wall to watch the young man cross the parade ground. “He is touched by the Land, of that there can be no question. More besides, I believe.” The blacksmith’s elegant brows furrowed.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I am not sure,” Idein admitted. “A sense about him. All will be revealed, in time."

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