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Thread: Thunder and Lightning - A Tale of the Fool and the Fair (Part 7)

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    Post Thunder and Lightning - A Tale of the Fool and the Fair (Part 7)

    CHAPTER 8: ASHES

    Each day the sun rode the skies later now. The evenings had turned to warmer breezes and the nights were hinting at the sultry heat of Summer soon to come. The Spring rains had given way to occasional brief showers, and the dark days of Winter were but a distant memory.

    And the Hall? Ah, the Hall… In the dark of Winter it was a haven of warmth and merriment, of company and gathering that held the dark silences and the cold at bay. In Spring it was a bright, fresh voice that called the folk of Mia’s Edge forth to greet the new growing and the bright birth of the year. And now, in Summer’s early days, it was a cool and pleasant respite from the growing heat of the day, a place where ease might be taken and fellowship enjoyed in the company of both friends and words… Or so it was supposed to be…

    As those who had a desire to listen to Sonea’s journey gathered to the Hall that night, they found casements closed and doors that shut tight behind them as each entered. And in the places set, fires roared loud and heat poured forth… though Sonea’s ready supplies of cooled ale and Lemon Bubble Bounce for the childer went no small way to set matters to a more pleasing note. And as they arrived, each saw TaleSpinner already there… and behind her on the wall where the Hall set those Mirrors of the Tale, the pictures were indeed still there… the bird, the warrior, the child, both carried and dancing… but about them and through them and over them danced the ghost of red fire, and flames kissed each one close.

    And when all had arrived and were sat, and each had their chosen draught in hand, the chant began. And if a voice or two sounded puzzled, then such it was in the Hall of a time…

    " A tale... a tale.... a tale...."

    And the light of day faded in the Hall, and the light that remained danced about those present with a glow of red.

    "Did ye ever hear tell of Thunder and Lightning? Of the Fool and the Fair?"

    TaleSpinner spoke, and her voice was at first soft, then slowly grew louder till all might hear easily.

    Sonea Finder, crafted crafter
    Dwarf-wise wisdom gained
    Bright the path that lies before her
    Fire marks the way

    As her voice tailed off from the rhyme, those few at the front heard TaleSpinner sigh.

    "Fire, aye. But what of the good servant, if it serves an ill mistress?"

    When next the sun did peek over the horizon, Bori of Clan Grimbattle did rise from his rest to greet the day. After breaking his fast on the missus’ fine oat porridge and washing it down with a pot of light ale, he took himself out of their small but tidy cottage, that he might get a few breaths of fresh air to bolster him for another day among the smoke and sparking cinders of the forge. As he took a first deep breath of the early morning air, he did smell that something was amiss. Ye see, the air was tainted with the acrid smell of burned timbers.

    So Bori took himself to the top of a foothill near the Clan’s village, that he might gain height to see o’er the treetops and scan the mountain for the source of the smell. Although forest fires were not common on the mountain, they did of a time happen. One near enough to taint the air could be devastating to the community. And Bori would have the community be prepared if danger were on its way.

    So he scanned the mountain-side until he saw the black, smoking ruin of a great and deadly fire. And the devastation was near to where he knew a certain old Helian had its lair. Bori gazed on the charred skeletons of the few trees still standing and he pondered… He grew curious to know what might have birthed such flame, and whether the Helian and its biped were safe. So he took himself back to his house and he gathered his walking staff and he set off, heading up the very mountain path that one had used not so very long ago to sneak into the village and watch him work.

    Upon reaching the edges of the burned area, he saw that the ruin was not nearly so large as it could have been. He worked his way to the center seeking what might have caused the fire to start. And he slowly turned himself about, that he might examine the ruin from every angle. Bori saw the remains of one of the forest’s older denizens, split in twain, and each burned half lying on the ground.

    And he saw a mound of ash near dead-center of the area. Bori stirred the ashes with his staff and lo! he uncovered a pile of rocks underneath. Now being one skilled in ores and metals, Bori recognized the rock.. it was in fact unsmelted ore like that which could be found in the abandoned mine just a short hike back down the path. Bori wondered how the ore came to be in the middle of the forest, particularly this burnt area. And then he recalled the spy-visitor he had entertained with his smelting not so very long ago.

    Before he could examine this thought further, he heard the light slap of feet on the path above. Bori quickly scraped ash back over the ore and then took himself to the edge of the burning and stepped behind a tree. From this place he could see, and the one would not see him.

    Now, Sonea didn’t know that she had been at death’s door. The next morning, she woke early, and she had but one thought on her mind. She scurried out of her nest, and dashed to the lair entrance. The storm had blown itself out during the night, but Sonea noticed it not as she skipped down the path towards her hollow stump. And indeed she noticed not another who slipped out of the lair behind her and followed her as she went.

    And then Sonea reached the edge of the fire-ruined area, and she paused to survey the charred rubble. The Helian in Khutit form took this moment to draw near and find a warm rock on which it might perch and observe her. And as it settled itself upon the rock it did notice another watching Sonea from the shelter of a nearby tree. It was the dwarf-kin Bori. And Bori did in turn spy the Khutit-Helian. Their eyes met across the distance and they nodded a greeting each to the other.

    As Sonea scanned the area, a momentary flash of recognition crossed her face, and her breath caught as she recalled the flaming inferno of the night before. And then in her mind’s eye she had a fleeting glimpse of a drake in full flight, silhouetted against a full moon, breathing hot flame into the starry night sky. But then, the veil of madness lowered over her mind again and she was left with the one thought that had driven her here.

    The Khutit-Helian sat still as a stone and watched, and Bori peered out from behind the tree and watched as Sonea scrambled to the stump, but the stump was no more. Ye see, the fire had consumed the thin wood of its walls and all that was left was a mound of ash. Sonea knew not that the ash was what she sought, and so she spun in a circle seeking the familiar shape of the stump. But still there was no stump.

    In frustration, Sonea kicked at the mound of ash. The Khutit-Helian watched with sympathetic amusement as Sonea winced and hopped on one leg, nursing a hurt toe on the other, for her foot had struck something solid under the ashes. In kicking the ashes, Sonea had displaced some of them to reveal the offending hardness underneath. It was her pile of ore! And it was still ore, no metal bars did she see. The Khutit-Helian leaned forward that it might see more clearly as Sonea dropped to her knees before the pile and began digging through it. But the ore was still as it had been when she placed it there.

    Bori, on the other hand, watched from behind the tree, anger building in him until he was furious, for it seemed that this biped must have foolishly started the fire in an attempt to smelt the ore. And he watched as Sonea picked up a few bits of ore and turned them over and around in her hands, examining them for he knew not what. And he watched as she dropped her hands to her lap in resignation, and she bowed her head, and her shoulders began to shake as tears of frustration coursed down her cheeks. Ye see, she was at a loss as to what to try next.

    Bori, for all his gruff seeming demeaner , was good-hearted. And as he gazed upon Sonea’s tears, he found a melting to his heart. He stepped forth from his hiding place and slowly, carefully, he approached Sonea. Sonea’s head jerked up as she heard the crunching of feet picking their way through the burned bones of the forest. Blinking starry tears from her lashes, she looked up to see the approaching dwarf. Though she was wary, Sonea was not scared to flight. Ye see, she recognized Bori as the one whom she had watched long and long as he turned ore into metal.

    Now the Khutit-Helian observed both Bori and Sonea. It saw Bori squat on his heels before Soni, and take up a piece of the ore. And it saw Bori turn the ore round in his hands just as Sonea had. And then it heard Bori speak, not in anger, but as one maker might to another. Bori told a tale of long ago in the beginning times, when the first dwarf maker did try a similar thing in his quest to turn ore in to metal. And the maker also found that the fire did not burn hot enough to melt the ore.

    But the first maker was clever and he noticed on the edge of the firepit, there lay some wood that had burned but partially. And so he cast it into the fire of his next attempt at making. And lo! in the second burning the wood did seem to burn longer and hotter! And Bori named this wood, charcoal. The Khutit-Helian peered closely as Bori took Sonea by the hand and raised her up, and then walked with her around the burned out clearing, pointing to where the forest fire had left bits of charred coals.

    And then the Khutit-Helian listened as Bori spoke of how an untended fire would rage, and would wander wide and far in its anger. But if one were to master the fire to a small space, it would burn hotter and with less ire. Through all of this, Sonea gazed in wide-eyed wonder at Bori, firstly because his words were helping to remove the veil from her mind. But secondly, she listened to the delightful melody in the dwarf’s gruff voice as he groused and grumbled about the quality of the charred wood they found, and the ruin that might be caused by a fire with a bad attitude.

    And then, Bori pondered what he might do next. And he raised his gaze to the Khutit-Helian. The Helian returned the gaze and nodded as if in approval. So, Bori did decide, then and there, that if Sonea was of such worth to the Helian, then Bori would treat her as if she were one of dwarf-kin’s own.

    And so Bori was delighted, and his heart warmed further, when he saw that Sonea hoarded what he had told her. And Bori decided to dangle an enticement before her. If she would but accompany him to the dwarf place, he had a thing to show her that would turn ore to metal. Of course, Sonea followed Bori down the mountain. The Khutit-Helian was satisfied with this turn of events and it settled down on the warm rock to await their return.

    After a short walk, they arrived at the Grimbattle dwelling place where Bori called forth some few of his clan, and a small forge was produced. Sonea peered in the smelting bucket and then she used the pouring handle to tip the bucket. Then she dropped to her knees and examined the forge’s bellows. And she started, and then smiled with delight as Bori squeezed the bellows and caused a puff of air to sweep her hair into the air.

    And then his clansmen did help Bori carry the forge to the place where Sonea’s tree stump had been. Hearing their approach, the Khutit-Helian, who had dozed whilst they were away, woke. And then, remaining a silent observer, it watched the clan set about clearing a space, and it watched as they scraped away the raw ore and ash of the stump’s remains. And then it saw the clansmen set the forge firmly on the ground. And finally, it watched with quiet approval as Bori’s kin gifted Soni with the forge and a supply of charcoal with which to fire it.

    Then the dwarf-kin left, save the one who had found Sonea. And that one did take Sonea and stand her next to the forge to watch as he worked. And as he worked, he did begin to speak of using a forge to work the ore. And he spoke of how the ore must be placed in a smelting pot and heated to burn the impurities from it.

    And then Bori showed her how to lay a fire in the forge, and he showed the stoking of the fire beneath the pot. Whilst the fire did its work, Bori busied himself arranging trays of bar molds. And then he did draw forth some smaller molds. The Khutit-Helian peered closely at these and saw that they were formed in the shapes of metal dwarf toys.. an axe, a hammer, and a sword. When all was ready, Bori set the ore in the smelting pot, and the heat on the pot did eventually melt the ore. And Bori poured the melted ore into the molds, even the small ones. And the ore began to cool and it came to metal!

    And then, the Khutit-Helian received a pleasant surprise. Ye see, Sonea stared, transfixed, at the metal.. and especially at the metal toys. And then she looked up at the one who had wrought them. And her eyes grew bright and her lips turned up, and she clapped her hands together. And then Sonea burst into delighted laughter and began to dance and twirl around the smelter in celebration. Now Sonea hadn’t spoken for so very long that the sound was harsh and raw. Even so, to Bori, and indeed to the Helian who watched, it seemed as if the sun had suddenly appeared from behind a cloud.

    Then it was that the Khutit-Helian did revert to its magnificence and enter the clearing to join Bori and Sonea. And the three all sat together in comfortable silence as they waited for the metal to cool. And finally Bori and Sonea worked together to turn the cooled bars from the molds. Then Bori and the Helian both looked on with warmth in their hearts as Sonea excitedly turned the toys from their molds and played with each one.

    Now, Bori took up his smithing hammer and he did take his chisel, and he did take a metal bar to hand. And he worked that bar into the thinnest of sheets with his hammer, and he did take the chisel to the sheet that he might cut it to a certain shape. And then he used smaller tools that he might work more precisely, and he hammered and he cut and he did craft a thing… a necklace ornament… a bird that soars, with wings spread, in reaching flight.

    Then Bori did bring forth a chain crafted of the finest mithril links and he attached a link of the chain to a small loop he had set to the top of the bird. All the while Sonea had watched in wonder and fascination. When all was done, Bori did show his handiwork to Sonea. And he did settle chain and bird around her neck. And then he told her that one day she would craft its like.

    His work for now done, Bori did leave for Sonea the very tools that he had used, and he likewise left the molds both for bars and for toys. And whilst Sonea picked up the lovely little metal bird on its chain and examined it most closely, Bori went home.

    The Helian, who had watched all this with quiet satisfaction, began a rumbly humming healing song. Sonea smiled and let the little bird drop to her breast where it might soar on its chain of mithril. And she began to examine the tools that Bori had left her. And as she did a most curious thing happened. As Sonea hefted and held them, each did have some familiarity, and each sparked a faint memory picture from her past.

    Firstly, she took up the chisel and turned it over in her hands. As she touched the sharp edge of it, she felt a sword’s sharp edge. And she remembered a man with a kind face and warm smile. And she saw his eyes looking down at her as they walked, her child’s hand in his large callused one. Her other hand darting and dancing in the air before her as she excitedly animated some tale she was speaking to the one who held her hand. This memory brought a loving smile to Sonea’s face and she held the chisel long ere finally sighing and putting it aside.

    And then she held up the smithing hammer. It was heavy in her small hands as she lifted it to imitate Bori when he struck the metal bar. And she recalled an one, near to giant size who had wielded a heavy club, big as a tree’s trunk, and for a moment she felt the warmth of a steadfast friend. But then the warmth turned to icy terror as she saw the one laying full length on the forest floor, bloody and unmoving, and she herself crouched over him, grief full upon her face. She wiped a tear and shook her head to dispel this memory. And she gently put the hammer down.

    As she looked at the things of metal before her, the melody of the Helian’s song did change. Sonea sensed a difference and glanced up. And as her gaze rose, she saw movement from the corner of her eye. Sonea squinted to see the better, for it seemed that there was an one standing in the lee of the trees. Old, and a little bent it was, leaning on a staff, peering down at the ground as if seeking some herb or simple.

    The one was near solid, but not quite and Sonea could see the bare hint of trees through it as it stooped and looked and worked its way to the edge of the place where she sat. Once there it rose and leaned upon its staff, and turned its kind old face to look full upon her. She knew him! A rent came to Sonea’s heart and she cried out in anguish as suddenly the long suppressed memories came exploding back. And the tears that had threatened from the other memories did come full forth and flood her eyes in a healing spasm of the spirit that she had needed for long and longer.

    As Sonea wept uncontrollably, the Helian did blow a soothing wind of warm primal through her spirit. When its healing had calmed her and her heart did seem less heavy, she looked up, eyes blurred with tears, to see the old one shake his head gently, once, twice. And then he did smile down upon Sonea. And as he smiled, he did fade softly away.

    And as he faded, Sonea’s weeping turned soft and subsided. And the last of the madness’ poison did leave her. Though she was not yet fully healed, the madness was gone. And the space it left behind was ready to be filled with new and brighter soul food.

    The Helian saw that the healing had gone far enough for this day, and it changed its healing song to one of sleep. Sonea slumped to the ground, tools and molds scattering about her. The Helian gently lifted her in its claws and carried her back to its lair where it held vigil for a second time, humming its healing into her soul whilst she slept.

    And she dreamed. There was no sky, nor any earth upon which to stand. She floated in blackness. Fleeting fragments of color whirled past her, the red-orange burn of dragon fire warmed her cheek. This made Soni smile in her sleep, for it reminded her of her Helian friend. Then it was gone and she floated for a time, until the cool silver of a moon in full did pass before her. This dream fragment caused a frown to form upon her sleeping brow as it brought forth an image of the drake bound in magical chains.

    Colors swirled, and the dream changed again. Chains fell away, wings spread, and the image of the drake in full flight splayed across the moon. But now, down below stood an one, gaze turned upward as she followed the drake’s movements. And the one struggled to reach up, at last breaking chains of her own as she strove to join the drake in its freedom flight.
    And with this image came understanding.. Sonea in her dream-state did come to know there was a link and bond that made the Helian and she each like unto the other. And then, the dream image faded and she slept the remainder of the night.

    Over each of the next several days, Sonea set forth to gather ore, repeating the picking and gathering and hauling, almost as if she were in a daze. There came to be a goodly sized pile of ore next to the smelter. And then one morning she did not take herself to the mine. Instead, she went straight-away to her forge in the forest. And as one who sleeps but walks, she set about placing the charcoal in the forge. And she set flame to the char, and she fanned the fire with the small bellows that Bori had left.

    Sonea then set the ore to the flame and watched with delight as it heated. For in but a short time, the heating ore began to change hue. First there formed a thin halo of red, glowing around the edge where ore met the embrace of the pot. As she peered in at this, and the heat and warmth turned her cheeks a rosy pink, the beginning of a smile formed on her lips.

    And then the ore heated further to cherry red and then to a bright, golden glow. And the dross rose and began to spark and crackle as the impurities burned away. Soni’s eyes sparkled in return, and her smile brightened as she watched the delightful, dazzling display.

    The ore came to the final hue of the melting as it turned to white hot liquid. Sonea looked upon her accomplishment and saw that it was good. As she readied her molds for the pouring, her heart filled with joy at what she had done. And she burst into a full Soni smile that threatened to outshine the pure white of the melted metal.

    She carefully poured the molds full and then watched as a shiny film formed on the surface of each cooling bar, giving a hint of the metal’s true hue. Tears formed in her eyes, to slide unchecked down her cheeks and then onto the cooling metal as she realized what she had made. Ye see, Sonea’s ore had contained not bronze, nor even iron. What she poured into the molds and then set to cool was Chiconian silver. And this was a good thing, for silver requires nimble fingers and a deft touch to work it, and silver is the common beginner’s metal for fine-work.

    Ah well.. the metal cooled in the molds, and as it did Sonea’s healing began in earnest. Over the next months, Sonea worked the ore and the metal and gained knowing and skill in shaping. And of a time, she made her own chisel and her own hammer and small tools, ones more suited to her hands. And these she used to craft.. at first rough crude shapings, but with each new making, she improved until soon it seemed her hands had been born to it.

    In the time that followed, Sonea made two necklace charms of her own. The first had a small part of unsmelted ore set to a loop, to remind her of her beginnings as a miner. And this she attached to a link near the bird on the mithril chain necklace that Bori had made for her. And she wore it whilst she improved her ability to make the ore into pure silver bars.

    The second charm had a small silver bar set to its loop. And the bar she did attach to her mithril chain next to the ore. And she did wear the necklace with three charms whilst she gained skill in crafting filigree. Ye should ask Soni to show you her charms someday.. ye see, to this day she still wears them.

    Time passed and with each new piece her nimble hands wrought, there was yet more healing to her mind and spirit. It wasn’t long until the Helian began visiting Sonea as she worked, that it might sit in the sun and listen to her hum melodies to herself. And eventually it was most pleased to listen as she sang softly whilst working and shaping the silver into fanciful forest creatures and other equally delightful things.

    Then came a day when Sonea awoke with the night’s dreaming still fresh in her mind. She could think of nothing but the image of a dragon spread across the moon. And Sonea determined that she must in some way tell the Helian of her understanding of its mixed bond and freedom, and the link and bond between them.

    With some urgency she did rush to the forge, where she set before herself a small bit of purest silver. And on this day, Sonea was determined to craft a thing most special. For a moment she sat, unmoving, eyes closed, that she might have the peace of ignorance in which to form a crafting song. And then she began to work slowly and carefully. And as she worked, she sang a lovely, lilting, wordless tune that kept tempo with her hands as they moved, delicately forming the silver.

    She cut and shaped, and from time to time she lifted her eyes to gaze long upon the Helian. And then she would bend her head again to her work. The Helian watched Soni pour her very self into the crafting. And it saw that as she did, her soul completed its mending. And then finally, after much gazing and cutting and shaping and polishing, and the sun’s light was near to fading to evening’s glow, the thing was done.

    Sonea held the piece up before her, that the drake might see what she had wrought. And her eyes were clear and bright as her full spirit shown forth. And the Helian looked on the thing she held. And it saw the light from the setting sun reflected upon a filigree likeness of itself in full flight, unbound, wings spread against the suggestion of a moon in full.

    To Sonea, the image of drake and moon was a symbol of her healing and her promise to the old Helian that if it had need, then it may go and come again, for she had a feeling that this would someday be so, though she knew not how. And Sonea would be there... and she would yet have a dragon moon set about her neck. Not to be known, for that there be no need betwixt them. But it simply was a symbol passed down through the tides that even in bondage there be hope and reality of freedom.

    The drake looked to Sonea, and then at the piece, and then back to Sonea again. And the Helian’s expression turned to one of wonder and delight. For on this day it came to know that in her hands, Sonea held a master’s work. This piece also had a loop set atop it. And this fourth and final charm she did add to her mithril chain next to the bar of silver. And then she gathered her tools and tidied the forge, and trekked up to the lair as the Helian flew escort overhead.

    As TaleSpinner’s voice ceased, and in a bearing most unusual, Flozzie suddenly stood. All knew Flozzie as a most jolly dwarf, and one who had more friends than foes and not all of those borne in skins of ale. But this was a different Flozzie. Those who were near saw tears that stained his beard. At first he said no word. He stood, and he came to the front of the Hall to where Sonea was. And there he was still, and he did no more than look at her, cheeks wet and sorrow wrapt about him like a cloak. And Sonea… Sonea it seemed knew.

    And reaching in her shirt, she pulled forth a thing, and this thing was set to a chain, and those about saw her take it from her neck and pass it to Flozzie. But the chain she never let go of… And Flozzie took the thing, and held it, and examined it close… and of a time, the tears ceased, and his eyes took on a look of wonder. And he spoke..

    "Aye, indeed. Clan GrimBattle… Clan… GrimBattle had their hand in this indeed! And… if I miss not my mark, Bori-Elder, and not Bori-Younger! Now… I know what the TaleSpinner will tell next, I think. And it is a dwarf thing, but… but it seems to me it is a thing of all. And it is a thing that has a time come, and there is no good in that, but good has already come from it, for it stands before me!"

    And Flozzie did a thing few had ever seen him do, for he threw his arms about Sonea Fair One, and he did weep first, then he did smile, and a little dance he did. And Flozzie turned to all there, and he did shout, and the glee and joy about him was a delight to see!

    "Clan GrimBattle lives! And if not a one still walked of those, though I think they do, their strength and their spirit walks here in one I never knew bore it!"

    And Flozzie left the Hall and those who sat there, and he walked his way home. And all that passed him, near or far, they spoke long of that night… for Flozzie… Flozzie was singing!

    And those who were there, they waited. For they had an idea that the Hall was not yet done with this night. And sure enough, the dancing red light that had been about them faded. And the fires fell silent. And the cool of evening crept in to replace the heat the fires had sent. And the soft dark of night crept into the Hall and the Shadows grew. And still those present waited…

    And in the near dark, there grew a flame. Not a raging fire, no burning conflagration, but a flame. A flame that danced clean and bright against the dark, and that flickered in a somehow joyous glow. And as the Hall’s light grew about them, those who were there saw dancing on the wall what seemed to be the ghost of that flame, not static and still as other images, but yet dancing… and if they watched… if they watched long and long as ye may do to see pictures in the fire… from time to time each would see a face. And the face…

    Was Sonea.
    Last edited by peladon; July 27th, 2006 at 06:33 PM.

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