章 8: Chapter 8: Nyr's Family
I follow the dwarf for another two hours. The sun hangs low in the sky. I can hear the restless footsteps of the donkey ahead. Then, the trek comes to a halt when the carts are unfastened. Two dwarves secure the donkeys to nearby trees. The red-haired dwarf constructs a fire pit with stone and branches. I walk closer to their site and see that he tends to their donkey with care. Perhaps, I need to provide a kind gesture. 'The sweet buns.' The idea pops into my mind. Yet, one cannot skip to the dessert. I approach the camp and receive a wary glare.
"Var sa snill," I plead. "Are you Vidar? I have a letter from Asbjurn."
He responds with a deep sigh.
"Aye, show me the letter." The dwarf opens his hand. "Only I can tell if you hold true."
I rummage through my bags. Once the parcel is visible, I hold it out. The dwarf snatches the letter. Upon studying the contents, the dwarf's hostility diminishes.
"All-sannr!" he smiles. "That is my brother’s writing. See?"
He briefly shows the other dwarves the letter. Perhaps, they all know of Asbjurn. Yet, I cannot allow my curiosity to ruin my chances of retrieving information that I want.
"Mitt navn er Umlingo," I present my introduction with a bow.
The red headed dwarf places his letter in a bag. With a proud fist to his chest, he is ready for a proper greeting.
"Mitt navn er Vidar," he pronounces with purpose.
"Aye, we are now well met," I throw a fist to my own chest. "May I camp with you?"
"A friend of Asbjurn is a friend of mine," Vidar declares with sentiment. "Taka vid."
I nod in appreciation. As we round the campfire, he carries out a cast iron pot. Then, Vidar assembles a tripod to hold the pot. I can see him gather various stew items: cabbage, turnips, herbs and a broth. While the broth cooks, I can feel my stomach's growing anticipation. Once I am given a bowl, the savory stew makes my mouth water.
"Kras!" I compliment the food. "Since you provided dinner, then I'll supply dessert."
The dwarf nods in approval. As the meal ends, I remove the bag of buns.
"Are those Sugarblooms?" Vidar asks with surprising bright eyes.
Despite the dwarf's harsh exterior, he seems to have a sweet tooth.
"Indeed," I say while holding out the bag. "You may pick which one you prefer. There's a blueberry, cherry, cinnamon with nuts and a cardamom bun."
"I’ll take the latter," Vidar smile. "Tusen Takk.''
''You’re welcome my friend,'' I reply while taking a blueberry pastry. ''We can have another for breakfast tomorrow. ''
"What do you do Umlingo?" The other asks while licking his fingers clean.
"Well, I'm an adventurer," I reply with a white lie.
"An adventurer," Vidar raises a brow. "Can be the guise of a thief."
"Oh no, I'm a seeker of lore," my words run quickly. "I enjoy traveling to explore the truths in the myths of a place."
His previous uncertainty returns for the moment. 'Please believe me. ' There is no need to spoil a good relationship. Especially one with a dwarf. Dwarves make for loyal companions who enjoy sharing their knowledge.
"A good note," the red headed dwarf remarks with a laugh. "I'm just joking with you!"
"What a great jest!" I run my hand through my hair.
After a moment of silence. We can hear the donkey snore. In the distance, night bugs orchestrate their song. I glance to the moon above; she is waning but still shines with a glorious glow. A smile trickles across my face. Then I reason that it's time to ask.
"Can I travel with you to Uppruni?" The question comes as a shock to the dwarf.
"What business would you like there?" Vidar scratches at his beard.
"Your brother informed me that there's a knowledgeable dwarf who could provide me with insight into the legend of the hidden city underground." The statement is honest, and I hope I do not thwart our trust.
The other falls silent.
"I think he's referring to Magnus," he answers while rubbing his beard. "He's a well-established scholar. Berre bok gjer ingen klok."
"Jeg forstar ikke," I reply while feeling my brows lift in confusion. Alright, so I'm not as proficient in the Sindre language as I previously claimed.
"Merely book makes none wise." The dwarf explains. "Yet, Magnus himself does not solely base his principles on paper alone. He has enough experience despite his daft exterior."
"Aye, so he is eccentric?'' I ask.
"Indeed," Vidar shrugs. "However, meeting someone new is still worthwhile."
With that, the dwarf rises and stretches. The time for rest is night. At the promise of an introduction with this mysterious scholar, I happily lay down in the grass. Excitement keeps me from entering a meditative state. I look towards the sky and listen to the snores of a sleeping dwarf and donkey. 'Now, this is what an adventure is.'
The departure to Uppruni has an early start. I hear that the trip is to last three days. The walk does not bother me. After all, I am in good company. While trailing through the hills and forests, we engage in conversations. The dwarf is eager to discuss his favorite techniques in the smithy. Vidar is known for making remarkable jewelry with stone and metal.
As the Beorg Mountains come into view, my heart drops. The more time I spend with Vidar, the more I recall someone dear.
***
''Hey, Nyr!'' my young voice carries throughout the tavern.
''Greetings little one!'' The jolly dwarven bard replies in sing-song.
''Can you tell me what your home's like?'' I join him at his table.
''You mean, Uppruni?'' he asks with a genuine grin.
I nod with excitement.
''Well, one can say, that it’s beautiful.'' Nyr's eyes turn nostalgic.
I listen to him in awe of the dwarven city’s complex and magnificent design.
***
I shake my head. 'There's no need for sorrow.' I particularly would not like to share my loss with my new companion. Once we approach the opening gates of Uppruni, my eyes widen in wonder.
"This is your city?" I gaze from building to building. "It's beautiful!"
"Aye, Uppruni is truly a remarkable home," Vidar remarks with pride.
The Dwarven City is not solely crafted within the bowels of the mountain. There are bridges and balconies along the outer reaches which lead to inner chambers. The halls of stone are made from various rocks—some of which are not located in the Beorg Mountain Range. 'I hear those supplies were transferred from beyond the continent of Andoria.
"I'm pleased to see your respect," Vidar breaks my concentration.
"The architecture is masterful." I touch the gold trim on a bridge. "To infuse gold in stonework is above my comprehension."
"A bit of magic goes a long way," the dwarf says with a twinkle in his eye.
The Sindre are a proud group of artisans. Their sense of hospitality is just as grand. 'Nyr, I can see why you loved your home.' I think of my old friend with a sad smile. As Vidar glances over, I attempt to remove the heavy expression.
"Are we there yet?" I try to sound more enthusiastic than impatient.
"His house is around the corner," the dwarf shuffles ahead to a twist in the path. "Right here!"
The spirited dwarf pounds on the door of a great polished-white stone house. The knocks are loud and rapid.
"Unnskyld meg," Vidar's voice bellows. "I have a potential student for you Magnus!"
The knocking pauses for a moment. Loud bangs ensue from within the home as though someone is tripping into furniture. Before Vidar continues his obnoxious knocking, the door opens. A dwarf with grey hair approaches with a scowl.
"How many times have I told you not to knock so abruptly!" The other scolds while lifting his spectacles up and down.
His demeanor shifts as his gaze turns towards me. Suddenly, the old dwarf lifts my arms and walks around me in a circle. He then jumps up and takes my face in his palms. I stare at him with bewilderment.
"These markings!" he exclaims. "These pointy ears! Aye, he is an Ukhuni Elf as described by my brother!"
"What was his name?" The question escapes from my lips. My eyes widen while my heart dreads the answer.
"Oh?" The dwarf releases me from his grasp. "His name is Nyr."
Years of repressed sorrow crash my senses. Tears rush as the river gushes through a broken dam. The two dwarves look at me in shock. Yet, my eyes are too blurred and my vision of their faces is skewed. After a gasp of air, I share my despair;
"Nyr is dead!" My voice cracks.
I am led to a wooden chair. As I sit, memories flash in my mind. Even the moment of good Nyr’s demise. 'I cannot tell his brother.'
-- 贈り物
が届きました 
-- 推薦
ランキング 
-- 推薦
チケット