I am still grieving my mothers death,
from nine days ago, when my father returned from his latest round of
adventuring. He even came with two lovely spoils from a slain green dragon as
gifts for us. He was so happy that mother was not home. He did not even ask
where she was. He just wanted to show me the lovely brooch he had gotten for my
mother. He had taken it directly from the dragons hoard. It was in the shape of
a frog, her favorite animal, with little gemstones set into its back. “I got
them all appraised. The dwarf who appraised them said they were all real and some
are even valuable. Some sapphires and rubies. Mostly amethyst, aquamarine,
garnet, rose quartz, spinels of pink, green, blue, and red, as well as various
shades of topaz. The dwarf said that the metal of the brooch was gold, not pure
but still high quality.”
“We need to have a conversation…”
“I had a special present made for you.”
He continued as if I had not even tried to tell him. “It is a small bag you can
wear about your neck. The container portion of the necklace is chainmail and
covered in the hide of the green dragon we slew. There are also parts, such as
the neck of the container for example, that are made up solely of dragonhide.
Sinews from the dragons’ claws are used to hang the container from your neck.
It is little bigger than your hand in diameter and height.”
“Father, I need to tell you something
important.” I said as he pulled the shiny, green-scaled bottle-looking thing
out of his beltpouch.
“The eye in the wood that seals the
dragonhide of the neck of the container is one of the actual eyes from the
green dragon we killed.” He continued, showing off his gift to me and not
paying attention to what I was trying to have him understand.
“Mother is not coming home.” I said
softly.
“What do you mean?” He asked looking
around the front room that used to be my bedroom. I had already moved her bed
out of my mother bedroom and mine into it. The local tavern was willing to take
the bed for a good bit of coin. I had also moved my clothing and other
incidentals, along with the hope chest they had been in, into the bedroom. Now
the front room looked like a proper sitting room. “Where is your mother?”
“As I have been trying to tell you since
you walked through the door.” I said finally losing my temper. “Mother died nine
days ago.”
“Well I knew I was going to outlive her
but I did not think she would be going this soon.” He said sitting in one of
the highbacked, fabric-covered chairs I had purchased with the money I made
selling mothers bed. He looked up at me. “Who is going to take care of you
now?”
“I can take care of myself.” I answered
affronted.
“You are barely twenty years old.” He
scoffed.
“I am only half an elf. I am half-human
like my mother too. If I were fully human, I would be married by now.”
“If you were fully an elf you would just
be starting lessons in the arcane arts.” He snapped back. “You are neither.”
“Thank you so much for the reminder.”
He sighed. “You are right, Ouida. You
are no longer a child. Come with me on my next adventure.”
That gave me pause. “I am not sure where
you are going to sleep since I have taken over the bedroom.” I said not
offering it to him.
“I can roll out my bedroll in here.” He
said smiling and gesturing between my chairs.
“That works.” I agreed.
“Here is your present my darling.” He
said handing me the chainmail and dragonhide bag. I took it and he slipped the
brooch into my hand as well. “You would have inherited it anyway.” He said with
a sad smile.
“I think it is time we settled in.” I
began walking towards my bedroom in the back of the cottage. “I have already
eaten dinner. There are some fruits I was saving for breakfast in the morning on
the kitchen table if you want.” I had no need to change the kitchen. It was
simple kitchen. A table against the left wall with three chairs around it. A
counter for cooking along the other wall. A stove built into the outside wall. That
was it beyond baskets for storage.
“I will go to the tavern.” My father
said, placing his pack against one of the chairs and leaving without another
word.
I took the gifts to my bedroom, then
closed and barred the door. I had heard horror stories about drunken, widowed
fathers. I placed the brooch in the chest of items I kept that had belonged to
Mother at the foot of my bed. I had moved my belongings from it to her chest of
drawers. Then I examined the bag. It was pliable but had a metallic crunch when
I squeezed it.
Then the eye blinked. The eye of the
dragon that was supposed to be dead. Inside my head, I heard. “I can teach you
magic child. Magic thy elven father will never be able to access.”
“What do you want in return?” I asked
suspicious.
“Nothing. I like this form. No pain. I
can hold a hoard for us within the chainmail inside my scales. My mental
faculties are intact, or at least they seem to be so far. I was a great wyrm in
constant pain from former battle wounds, dying of old age of all things. You
can be my magic, casting spells for the two of us. I will teach you every
spell, spell-like ability, and magical trick I know. It might take decades but
half-elves live that long right?”
“I will.” I said grinning. “Can we start
the magic lessons now?”
“Of course my apprentice.”