A Tale of One Deviant (Book 2) (Technically Hiatus, but kind of not)

Chapter 197: With the Bhemuses

Grant Bhemus smiled while beckoning us towards the back of the smithy, where the workbench I'd used before still stood as clean as ever, waiting for me to make it dirty. Oh...I can't wait!

"It's a festival held once every three years to see what clan was able to create the greatest of artifacts in the given time. Consistently, the winners of the clan have received great favor from the king, first choice of the mines they will be in charge of for three years, the honor dancing with the princess, as well as-"

"The finest liquor known to Dwarfkind," Major Bhemus affirmed, eyes strangely fired up while looking down at plans spread out over another part of the workbench. "Envied even by ancient Dragons, the old Fae, and fairies who've seen civilizations rise and fall. Lorettatir."

"..."

My eyes went wide looking up to Grant Bhemus who only smiled and shook his head. "If there's anything to know about Dwarves, especially those like Major here, it is that you must never get between them and their liquor."

"...noted. So," I looked over at the plans, bothering to peek just a bit - I'd grown up just a small bit so that I didn't look as weak and fragile as I hid under my kimono - at what he had. "Where's the product?"

"I have not started yet."

"What?" My eyes went wide meeting his, looking back down at the plans on the page. "Isn't this competition in just a few days? I don't know how long I'll be able to sustain the time converted space, even though I have a lot more mana than we last met-"

"I do wonder what you do most days to end up with so many scars-"

"-because of the amount of projects and quality of them that I'm going to sustain."

"If I do not manage to finish, then it is only my own fault," Major Bhemus shook his head, eyes narrowing down at the plans. "If only I'd done it before the sun ruptured...of all the luck in the world to have, I have my own, and of all the things to go wrong, the sun itself died before I could complete my project."

"...what?"

Cold sweat dripped down my spine then as he threw cold water all over me again.

"Ah," Grant Bhemus sighed, nodding his head with folded arms. "The most bizarre thing happened a few months ago: the second sun, Saedli, suddenly began to break apart in the middle of the day and float apart while we were conducting metal purifying rituals specific to our clan in our territory, and we were unable to finish the purification. Until now, we've been relying on our stores to work, but next year we might be in a spot of trouble if we don't manage to purify our ores somehow."

"And you need...Saedli...why?"

"Because Saedli is the symbol of Zuelis, God of Light, and his blessing is needed to purify the ore that we extracted from the depths of the earth. Thousands of years ago, these lands were steeped in darkness as the Demons reigned it, before the gods pushed it back to create a space for us to live again. However, they only cleared the surface of the land where we hunt, the parts of the ocean where we fish and the Mer live, and the skies as far up as we can reach them on the backs of wyverns. The depths of the earth are full of darkness and malevolence, and every three years we must purify them for the peace of our people. Every time we pull up ore, as well, as must purify it so that it can be used for good, not evil. That," Major Bhemus sighed, elbows on the edges of his plans, head bent over, hands running through the braided mess. "Is how we smithing clans exist and derive our pride. We brave what those punks-"

"The non-smithing clans," Grant Bhemus substituted.

"-are too fearful to encounter. And for it, we must find glory in our work, to prove endlessly that we Dwarves are a hardworking and humble people. Not...a race meant to be surface-dwellers satisfied with only wealth and more human in their lust for greed than Dwarven in their blood..."