The Elf Thief

Chapter 32: Gifts

            Sonya did not dream that night. Her mind was graced with a peaceful bliss that she had not known in years. But a small hand that clasped over her mouth, waking her with a jolt, disturbed her rest.

            “Shhh,” a young dwarf boy said when she started thrashing. “I’m here to help.”

            Slowly, Sonya settled down. Looking over her visitor, she saw that he could not have been more than sixteen years old. He had reddish-brown hair that hung past his ears and a bristle of a beard was staring to grow around his chin. “Who are you?” Sonya asked quietly when he removed his hand from her mouth.

            The dwarf boy shook his head. “That is not important,” he replied grabbing a torch off the wall. “Come, follow me. Quickly!”

            Sonya trailed after the dwarf as he led her through hallways, backdoors, and secret passages. When they arrived at a tapestry, he suddenly stopped.

            The tapestry was beautiful. It depicted scenes from the land above in vivid colors. There were grass fields, huge forests, and snowcapped mountains. Words in a language she did not know lined the bottom in gold lettering.

            As the dwarf boy pushed the tapestry aside, he put his hand on the wall behind and murmured, “Evocent memoriam oblitus.” Instantly the wall began to glow a deep red color and a section slid away.

            Noticing the strange look Sonya was giving him, the dwarf translated, “Evoke a memory forgotten.” He then turned and walked through the opening.

            Sonya followed him down a flight of stone stairs into a hidden chamber. Light illuminated the room as the dwarf lowered his torch to the others. On a pedestal in the center of the chamber was a stone chest, solid with no way of opening it.

            Once again, the dwarf boy walked over and placed his hand on the chest. As he murmured unintelligible words, a red light crept over the box, completely encasing it. Then the stone crumbled into dust.

            The dwarf reached forward and grabbed something, then turned to her. “You lost your knife in the battle with the hydra, correct?”

            Stunned, all Sonya could do was nod.

            Holding his hands out, the dwarf revealed two knives, one in each hand. The blade was black with a metallic sheen and the blade looked as though it was dyed with blood; runes etched on crimson the blade.

            “Take them,” the dwarf boy hissed when Sonya didn’t react. When she reached out and took them, he continued. “They are the Blades of Vermiculus. Otem is their name. These blades will never break and if you loose them, they will always be returned to you.”

            “Who was Vermiculus?” Sonya asked quietly, her curiosity getting the better of her.

            For a moment the dwarf boy seemed bitter. “That is a bloodstained story; a tale that no one as young as you should have to hear,” he said. “Take them.”

            Sonya shook her head. “Why not give them to Dearekk?” she replied. “He is a leader and he is more deserving of such a gift.”

            “No,” the dwarf boy said with finality. “The half-elf will always be torn between races. He will never understand the loyalty one has to one’s race. But you…you understand us. You understand what it’s like to fear for your people. Take the blades, they are as much of a curse as a gift.”