Awakening

by G Clatworthy

  My stomach growled and I lurched in embarrassment. I hadn’t eaten properly since lunch time yesterday, one bowl of chips and a packet of crisps barely counted, so it was understandable but as Lorandir blinked, I was mortified that my stomach had managed to wake someone up. He seemed surprised at his surroundings because he looked round before resting his gaze on me. He gave me a lopsided smile then winced, putting his hand to his neck.

  I pretended not to notice and stood up too quickly, pushing away the light-headedness as I walked the few steps to my small kitchen.

  “Omelette?” I asked over my shoulder, hoping the elf wasn’t vegan and mentally going through my cupboards to see if I had anything vegan in the kitchen. I had an orange, a few vegetables and some pasta, and I wasn’t 100% sure pasta was vegan.

  “Please,” he replied sleepily, “Can I help?”

  I shook my head and concentrated on preparing the omelettes, taking out my good omelette frying pan, which was my only frying pan but I had got it for the online omelette-making reviews. I like organisation in the kitchen. Aloora would say I have a mild obsession when it comes to cooking, but I always chop everything first onto separate plates before even starting to cook. It’s less about being tidy and more about being paranoid I might poison someone.

  I trimmed a little of the home-grown greyish-green mushrooms I had on the shelf above the sink, when I heard a gasp behind me. I turned quickly, my hand gripping the kitchen knife when I saw it was Lorandir with a disbelieving look on his face.

  “Is that Mucklewhite?” he asked

  “Yeees,” I wondered where this was going.

  “I haven’t had fresh Mucklewhite in ages and Gundersson’s always charges a fortune for the dried stuff,” he paused and gave a snort, “I didn’t know dwarves were gardeners,” he added, the thought obviously tickling him.

  “What about the French pleasure gardens?” I retorted defensively, naming one of the most famous feats of dwarfish engineering landscaping that I knew of.

  He considered my point and replied with sincerity, “Apologies, I had forgotten dwarves are amazing landscape artists.”

  I relaxed and snorted. “Some dwarves might be but I am not,” I gestured to the mushrooms and the pots of soil next to them, relics of previous house plants. “My mum keeps buying me plants in the hope that one day I’ll be able to grow something. These Mucklewhite mushrooms are the only things I haven’t managed to kill…yet.”

  I sprinkled some into the pan to mix with the eggs, ham, cheese and peppers I had already added from their separate bowls, and let it cook all the way through. Once I was happy it was cooked, I tipped the omelette onto a plain white plate and passed it to him. The only table I had was holding my tv and laptop so he had to eat on his lap. Annoyingly, he still managed to do this gracefully. I opted to stand and eat my omelette leaning on the small kitchen counter.

  “Thank you, this is delicious,” Lorandir said between bites. I scanned the comment for sarcasm but couldn’t find any so I simply nodded.

  “You’re welcome. Thank you again for saving my life.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll have to do it more often if you cook like this,” he raised his fork slightly and took another bite with a smile. I scrunched up my face, what did he mean save my life more often? I decided it was meant to be a joke so I smiled back and carried on eating. Bloody elves.

  After we had eaten, I checked my phone. There were no new updates so I messaged Gunther asking how Aloora was. He replied immediately.

  She’s sleeping. Still in hospital. A guy called Marco is here, he says he’s her flatmate…should I let him in?

  I knew Gunther had been a good choice to call, he was steadfast and protective, even if he hardly knew Aloora.

  Yes, let him in. Let me know if anything changes. Thanks for the charm, it worked great. x

  I pressed send before I realised the kiss was probably a mistake. Gunther replied with a smiley face and I let Lorandir know Aloora was still in hospital. He gazed at a spot on my magnolia coloured wall, as if he was thinking about something else.

  I left him to it. He’d just found out his friend was a kidnapper after all. I started to go downstairs. If he’d wanted to hurt me or steal anything he’d had ample opportunity while I was asleep. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with him staying in my flat but it was Saturday and I should open my shop. On the first step, I suddenly realised I hadn’t showered since the fight and probably looked a mess.

  “I’m going to shower,” I announced, too loudly. I hurriedly grabbed some clothes and shut myself into the converted cupboard that was my shower and bathroom combined. I turned on the shower, hung my clothes on the door and stepped into the hot water. I shut my eyes. It was all too much. My best friend was in hospital, I’d been attacked by wyrms and elves and now there was an elf in my home. I sunk to the floor and allowed myself two minutes of crying in the shower where I was sure even the low pressured water would cover the sound of any sobbing then washed quickly and stepped out. I was glad this adventure was over and I could get back to normal.

  I checked the door was still locked, I was becoming paranoid, before drying and dressing quickly and dragging a brush through my hair. A glance at the mirror confirmed that I looked presentable and I rubbed my eyes, wishing as always that they were a more vibrant colour than mud-brown. The lack of sleep had made them puffy and I swept some green eyeshadow on to try to brighten them and some pink lipgloss before stepping out.

  Lorandir seemed uncomfortable as I left the bathroom, leftover steam escaping into the room.

  “Err, can I use the bathroom?” he asked eventually. I almost laughed at the haughty elf asking permission for anything but stopped myself in time.

  “Of course. There should be hot water left,” he still seemed hesitant and I realised he didn’t have anything with him, except his clothes and a sword. I grabbed a clean towel from a small wicker chest just outside the bathroom and threw it to him. He caught it deftly before it hit his face.

  “I’m going to open the shop,” I announced then stomped downstairs and left him to it. It was early afternoon and there were still plenty of people in the Arcade as I opened up my shop and settled behind the shabby chic counter after checking on Errol. The wyrm blinked at me as if to say how dare you wake me, as I opened the door to the forge but soon became more eager to see me as I poured fresh coal into his bowl and scratched him behind his ears, enjoying the warmth that emanated from him.

  I sold a silver bracelet and a pair of earrings to a mother looking for a birthday present for her daughter to make up for not being there on the actual day. I was in the process of packaging up two friendship charms and a love charm to a pair of teenage girls who giggled as they bought it before Lorandir emerged. He walked down the steps with natural grace, still wearing his sword, and the teenage girls sniggered even more when they saw him, whispering something to each other and gesturing at me. To my horror, I felt myself blushing, a dark red creeping up my chest to my face. Lorandir must have heard what they said with his sensitive hearing because he gave me a wink and smiled flirtatiously at them.

  I frowned at his back; he had just found out his lifelong friend was a kidnapper and he was flirting. Bloody elves, so keen on keeping up appearances.

  The girls looked like they were about to faint so I asked them if they wanted anything else. Unable to think of an excuse to stay, they left, giggling explosively as they passed the window on the way to the next shop.

  “Cul,” I muttered under my breath.

  “What?” Lorandir asked. Damn his elvish hearing.

  “Er, coffee?” I asked brightly.

  He narrowed his eyes but replied civilly. “Tea, if you have it?”

  I made us both a cup with the kettle I kept in my forge, dodging Errol as he wound his way around my legs while I made two cups of strong and milky tea, just how I liked it. His eyebrow quirked up at the Little Miss Sunshine mug I gave him. Mum had bought it for me in a fit of irony during my surly
teenage years when I had been the opposite of a ray of sunshine to live with. I kept my favourite mug with a picture of a cute red dragon on it that reminded me of Errol.

  I was about to ask him what he was planning to do now when another customer entered the shop. The man had a faint magical aura about him, but I couldn’t tell more than that without my goggles. I guessed he was half or quarter magic-blood and given his rugby player build, I thought he was probably part-orc. He looked at Lorandir then me, then back to Lorandir and asked him for advice choosing a present for his girlfriend before I had time to open my mouth for my opening spiel. Typical.

  Lorandir shot me a look and I raised an eyebrow at him.

  “I think this is exquisitely crafted,” he said smoothly, pointing at one of my pricier necklaces set with a small purple amethyst. I always enjoyed crafting with my namesake stone and this one was set into a complex pattern of entwining golden vines symbolising eternity. “But you should ask the owner, she makes them.” I was taken aback as he pointed to me.

  The customer was clearly taken aback too but he switched on a dazzling smile. “It’s beautiful,” he agreed, “how much?”

  I walked over to both of them, feeling very small as they both towered over me by more than a foot. I unlocked the cabinet and held the necklace up so it caught the light and glinted. I named the price.

  He seemed unsure and I was about to put it back when Lorandir added without a trace of irony, “Perhaps you would like the lady to model it?”

  I wanted to respond furiously but aware of the potential sale, I forced a smile onto my face and nodded. “If you would like, sir?” I added for good measure, it always helped to be polite.

  The man nodded. I fumbled with the catch unprofessionally and Lorandir stepped forward. “Allow me,” I kept the smile plastered on my face as he stepped uncomfortably close and tucked my braids out of the way before placing the necklace over my head and around my neck. I wished I had chosen a polo neck jumper, but my wardrobe consisted of a lot of steampunk inspired clothes and I had a fitted v neck shirt on, which complemented my figure but felt like it exposed entirely too much skin when an elf was brushing my shoulders. His fingers felt cool against my blushing skin as he held it there while the customer contemplated the golden necklace with a considering look.

  After what seemed like an eternity of myself and my craft being examined, the man nodded. “I’ll take it,” he said with relief. “I’ve been looking for the perfect present for ages,” he continued chatting as I took the necklace from Lorandir and placed it in a gift box and one of the light turquoise bags that proclaimed “Amethyst’s Treasures” in shiny purple lettering.

  I smiled as he left the shop, then glared at Lorandir, who was looking very smug.

  “I never knew I was good at retail,” he remarked with satisfaction, “perhaps we should work together more often…”

  I spluttered at the suggestion and was about to respond with a snide remark when my phone rang. I fumbled to get it out of my pocket. I held one finger out to let Lorandir know that we were pausing that conversation while I answered.

  “Aloora!” It was a relief to hear her voice. I frowned as she asked me to come over in an anxious voice before I could ask if she was alright.

  “Of course I’ll come. Give me a minute to shut up the shop and I’ll come straight over. Are you OK?” My worry turned to confusion as she ignored my question and asked me if the elf was still with me.

  “Yes he’s still here,” I said pointedly, glaring at Lorandir who smiled blandly then returned to casually regarding one of my cases of charms as if he wasn’t listening.

  “OK, yes I’ll bring him. Yeah we’ll leave now. See you soon, take care.”

  “Are we going somewhere?” he asked mildly once I’d hung up as if he hadn’t been listening.

  “Aloora’s back home,” I replied curtly, “she wants to see you.” I was a little hurt she wanted to see the elf but chided myself internally. The important thing was she was OK and out of hospital.

  He nodded as if it was normal for complete strangers to want to see him. “Are we walking or driving?”

  “Do you have a car?” I was only slightly sarcastic as I asked, guessing he didn’t as we’d walked or taken taxis everywhere since last night.

  “No. Do you?” He replied in the same tone. Touché.

  “Hardly anyone owns a car in Cardiff,” I lied, “you can walk practically everywhere.” That part was true.

  He quirked an eyebrow at me, “Walking it is then,” he left the shop and leaned against my glass window, a clear signal that he was ready to go.

  I tilted my head, listening for the tell-tale patter of rain on the glass roof of the Arcade and heard nothing. A walk would be good and probably about as fast as driving in Saturday rush hour traffic, now the shops were shutting. I checked on Errol who was back asleep and grabbed my coat and, after a moment’s thought, my axe, before joining Lorandir outside and locking up. The Arcade was practically empty so I wasn’t worried about losing business and Aloora was waiting.

  Chapter 8

  I deliberately didn’t tell Lorandir where we were going so I could set the pace rather than racing to keep up with his longer legs. He didn’t complain at the slower pace and shortened his stride to match mine as we walked in a silence that somehow felt companionable. We made a quick stop at the Dragon’s Head coffee shop so I could grab a mug of coffee laced with chocolate syrup and I bought several brownies as a gift for Aloora. Brinda, the owner, smiled at me as I left, probably thinking they were all for me, but, to her credit, she stayed silent.

  The sun was low in the sky as we arrived at Aloora’s house, making the Victorian terraced houses look picturesque and romantic with the soft pinkish glow highlighting the brickwork and glinting off the windows. A few pink and orange clouds drifted past on a gentle breeze, and a hint of better weather seemed to be in the air as I stepped onto the tiles outside Aloora’s door and knocked.

  Aloora opened the door immediately, she must have been waiting for us. I embraced her, nearly crushing her in my relief to see her well.

  “Steady on,” she laughed, returning my hug warmly, “and hello you. Thank you for rescuing me.” She looked over my shoulder to Lorandir who gave a stiff half bow as I released my friend and turned. iI might have been the dusky light but it seemed as if he was blushing slightly. Great. Another fanboy for Aloora Dragonquest.

  She grabbed my hand, squeezed it and led me inside to the kitchen. I was surprised to see Gunther and Marco already seated on one side at the small table, which had a pile of old books stacked in the middle, and greeted them with a smile and commiserations about how tired we all were. I took out my keyring and made to unclip the anti-illusion charm that Gunther had given me to return it to him. He shook his head, pressed his hand over mine and told me to keep it with a serious expression I was unused to seeing.

  Aloora made a round of hot drinks and the scent of Marco’s espresso filled the kitchen, competing with Aloora’s herbal tea, creating a strange earthy bitter aroma. After handing out the drinks and setting a large plate of biscuits on the table, Aloora sat daintily on a wobbly chair at the end of the table, and I squeezed onto an uncomfortable metal fold out chair painted in a garish orange, generously leaving Lorandir the remaining wooden seat, also painted orange.

  “What’s going on?” I asked as I blew on my milky regular tea, enjoying the warmth of the cup in my hands.

  Aloora took a deep breath. “I think we’re in trouble.”

  “What?” Marco nearly choked on his espresso.

  “The elves that captured me, they were talking about the ritual and I think they have found one of the artefacts and they’re going to do it soon,” Aloora continued, her hands gripped tightly together on the scuffed wooden table.

  Judging from the puzzled expressions from everyone around the table, none of us knew what she was talking about. Gunther looked as if he was about to ask if she’d hit her head. I interrupted.


  “Sorry Aloora. I have no idea what you’re talking about. What ritual? What artefacts? What are they going to do when?”

  Aloora sighed and rolled her eyes. “The ritual,” Seeing our blank expressions, she elaborated. “There’s a belief among some dragon scholars that they never left this world, or died out, and rather they slumber beneath the earth waiting to be awakened. There’s a legend, a myth, that there is a ritual that will awaken them. No one knows exactly what it is, but there are references to awakenings in some of the dragon texts I’ve studied,” she indicated the pile of books on the table; she’d been recovering by studying dragon rituals. “All of the translations seem clear that some sort of artefact is needed, probably one of the dragon-forged orbs from the golden era, when dragons were allied with, rather than enemies of, the other races, but no one’s exactly clear on what it is. I think they have an original scroll with the ritual on it, the elves were arguing about getting me to translate it.”

  “Why were they arguing?” Gunther leaned forward curiously.

  “The male wanted to get me to do it straight away and was talking about forcing me to,” Aloora took a breath and gripped her hands more tightly, “the female wanted to talk to me first, trying to sway me to their cause. She did talk to me for a bit. She said she was pleased to meet a fellow dragon lover and admired my translations and work online.” Aloora spat the last sentence, clearly unimpressed.

  “I am sorry that Espretha kidnapped you,” Lorandir spoke softly and raised his green eyes to meet Aloora’s blue ones. Aloora nodded.

  “Thank you. But it’s not your fault. You’re not responsible for her.”

  “If they truly are planning to raise a dragon, we have to stop them,” Lorandir replied grimly.