Chronicles of Aurderia: The Balance

by J. Steven Young

“We are not wearing crowns or enough jewels to ransom a duchy,” Shuran groaned back. “Still I hope we at least look the part.”

  “You look majestic and lordly as befits the Shin’Ar and his Zidu’Si.” The dwarven maid said as she entered the room.

  “These clothes are not out of fashion?” Shuran asked.

  “These garments are timeless, and besides we do not see humans dressed as anything other than traders of craftsmen in villages, so I would not worry over much.” She smiled and motioned for them to follower her from the room.

  They followed her down the grand stairs back through the grand hall and into the dining hall.

  As they entered the room, the attendant announced them. Immediately the dwarven court assembled, stood and applauded them. Nearly half of them gasped.

  At that moment Shuran noticed several things. First, Avrank and Brakvar were placed to either side of the King and his Queen. Second, the King’s appearance struck a cord of familiarity to the dwarf in the frescos he saw traveling to Duranekur. Finally, he noticed the same dwarven ruler in a fresco beyond the dais. Standing next to the King’s likeness was a man with a striking resemblance to Shuran.

  Shuran was now wearing the same clothes as those on the man in the painting. The applauding began to wane as the King lowered his hands and took his seat. Shuran and Mallick were led up to the dais to seats beside Avrank.

  Mallick noticed the painting as they passed and nudged Shuran.

  “I see it, just fasten your lips would you. We can talk about it later.” Shuran sat down and smiled out to the court, and readied himself for what was bound to become a feast of discomfort that rivaled his feelings about the clothes.

  The feasting itself was not unpleasant, as dwarfs take their eating and drinking quite seriously. The spread before them was vast. Vegetables and fruits of uncountable varieties along with meats from at least a dozen animals filled the tables beyond capacity. Wine and ale flowed freely, and was consumed like water.

  Shuran restrained from over indulging in the libations but certainly ate his fill.

  Mallick on the other hand was well into his cups speaking boisterously, and with great animation on tales of his experiences since leaving Two Bridges.

  Shuran was certain the King would want a private gathering after dinner and suggested that Mallick slow down. This suggestion was met with only the slightest acknowledgment. Although Shuran was not one to take overly of the cup, he had often seen the results of the morning after in Codger. Mallick was going to be sorry in the morn should he keep up this pace is all Shuran could think.

  True to Shuran’s assumption, the King bid his guests continue and enjoy the evening while he retired. He then requested Shuran and Mallick join him and his family in the private sitting rooms for dessert. The King wanted a private conference.

  The sitting room was far less grandiose than the dining hall. There were simple yet comfortable furnishings, a large fireplace, and a table for private dining.

  Vraduun took the largest seat nearest the fire and across from the Queen, then motioned for Shuran to join him. “Shuran, you have not been properly introduced to my lady wife,” King Vraduun said. “Shuran Shin’Ar, may I present the love of my life and just about the finest dwarven maid to have-”

  “Oh husband do shut up!” the Queen interrupted. “Shuran Shin’Ar, I am Levdrianda and am so very pleased to see your return,” she said looking from Shuran to the image his double in a painting above the fireplace.

  “I must admit the resemblance is uncanny your majesty.” Shuran managed.

  “Fiddley Biddles! There is no doubt my boy, you are he, Shin’Ar returned. Why would you have chosen those clothes to wear? How do you explain all your abilities?”

  “Your Majesty-“ Shuran started.

  “And do stop the hoity-toity monikers and call me Levdrianda.”

  “I must admit that a rational answer escapes me your highness…I mean Levdriana.”

  The queen smiled broadly at the familiar use of her name.

  “And please if we are to speak as the friends I hope to become, call me just, Shuran.”

  “Shuran, it is nothing short of prophecy that you should come along now and in the likeness of the Shin’Ar,” Vraduun said. “All the pieces fall into place so you should just accept who are and move onward.”

  “I know nothing much of the Shin’Ar. I have full access to the knowledge of the Vault in Durangug, but there were no personal writings among the library volumes,” Shuran admitted.

  “Well then, we can fill you in on answers to many questions. I of course was not around five thousand harvests ago but my great grandsire twice over was here and well acquainted with Shin’Ar the first.”

  “Is it your grandsire then in all the frescos I have seen?” Shuran asked.

  “Many of them yes, my clan’s blood is strong as is our looks. I am the image of my father before me as he was to his and so on,” the King answered.

  “The images of my great grandsire two times would be those holding the Menasutur, the ancient war hammer of the dwarfs given our ancestors by the Telukukal, the first people.” Vraduun said with a tinge of sadness.

  “After the Menasutur was lost to our people, Vraduun’s ancestor soon died and the dwarfs life spans lessened. Where once we lived in a measure of as much as a thousand and more harvests, to reach five hundred is now rare,” Levdrianda said sadly.

  On the other side of the room Mallick was sitting with Avrank talking. “Why does your brother sit alone and treat you the way he does?” Mallick asked glancing at Brakvar sitting alone drinking in the corner.

  “Brakvar is proud and stubborn,” Avrank whispered. “My sheesh, was next in line for the throne until I was born and he resents me for it.”

  “Forgive my ignorance of dwarf customs, but why would you be named successor?” Mallick questioned.

  “It was no decision of my father. Many years had passed without any new dwarven births. As you can imagine with our stunted life spans compared to thousands of years ago, the dwarves do not have the numbers we once did. That changed twenty-five harvests ago when I was born. Since then more dwarf sprats have been birthed than in generations before.”

  “And this is good I would imagine?” Mallick pressed.

  “It is not a simple answer to say yes.” Avrank continued. Avrank told Mallick of how all the new young were somehow stunted or small at birth even by dwarven standards. The term ‘Tur’ became derogatory, to describe those of the smallest stature. The Dwarven elders however, saw this as an omen for a return to the old days.

  In ancient times dwarf young were much smaller at birth and did not reach full growth until well after one hundred years of age. Part of ancient dwarven prophecy has said that a time would come when the dwarven life spans would return to that of those times gone.

  “Since I am of the royal line and small, the elders felt I should be placed in succession rather than my sheesh. He was not happy.”

  Mallick now understood Brakvar’s resentment. “Perhaps he will grow out of it?” Mallick said.

  “I had hoped so but now with the return of the Shin’Ar, the prophecies are coming to pass and it has caused a great divide in my people.” Avrank looked at his brother when he finished to find him glaring back.

  “What happened to the hammer?” Shuran asked as he stepped up to look closer at the painting of his doppelgänger and the ancient King of the Dwarves.

  “No one knows after the Zidu’Si were dismissed it was gone. We know that this weapon was the first and the Zidu’Si later created other similar weapons. The only other account is a final writing of the then King,” Vraduun said.

  “Menasutur Gigi, Mummu Shin’Ar,” he recounted.

  Instantly Shuran knew what it meant and realized why so many things were familiar. “War hammer will be returned by the Shin’Ar reborn!” Shuran whispered. In an instant he closed his eyes and reached within himself to that place connected to the Vault in Durangug. He retrieved an ite
m he barely remembered seeing but instantly knew its entire history. Shuran stood before the King of the Dwarfs and his Queen and held out the Menasutur for them to take back.

  “How? What? Where?” Vraduun stumbled over the right words then took a long drink from his goblet of ale.

  Shuran could see both his confusion, and his joy.

  “It has been in the Vault,” Shuran said. “I knew the first time I saw it in the paintings that it was familiar. Although I never saw it in person I have a connection to everything in the Vault and can call it forth at will,” Shuran said and instantly called forth a keg of the ancient wine stored.

  “You may want something a bit stronger. Let us drink from the ancient wine stores of Durangug and celebrate the return of what belongs to your people.” Shuran set the keg on the table and an attendant began filling glasses, taking a full gulp for himself to steady his nerves. It is not every day a dwarf sees prophecy fulfilled in person.

  As the glasses were passed around, Mallick and Avrank joined the others from their private council. Brakvar finally joined them as well.

  “That was quite the gift Shuran!” Mallick said as he patted his friend on the back. “According to the King’s sons you have as much as joined the clan!”

  Shuran was confused momentarily when Mallick referred to the King’s sons. This fact quickly made sense, having seen them sitting at the dais during dinner.

  “You have dwarven blood to be able to work earth Essence! You could already be of our clan!” Avrank said.

  “Shuran Shin’Ar, you have brought great honor and pride to our house by returning the Menasutur. You will be forever a member of my clan.” The King was nearly in tears. As the King held the ancient artifact in his hands he trembled with understanding of what this might mean. “You must return the hammer to its proper place, in the hands of a dwarven Zidu’Si,” he said. “I will call for a ceremony and celebration of both the return of Menasutur and the adoption of Shuran Shin’Ar into our clan. If you would do us that honor Shuran?” Vraduun humbly asked.

  “I would consider it a privilege and an honor sir,” Shuran said.

  “Excellent, now on to another point of business. What do you know of your father’s quest?” King Vraduun asked.

  Shuran was dumbstruck.

  Avrank smiled with great pride and excitement.

  Brakvar’s expression was blank but Mallick could sense he was not overjoyed at this turn of events.

  “What do you know of my adda? I only know he was on some quest and I need to find him or complete what it is he has started,” Shuran spoke in earnest.

  “Dalgon was here many years ago,” the King said. “I must now conclude that he was your adda for he spoke of the prophecies and that the seven blood son would call on my house at some future time. All things considered I believe the time is now and you are he!” Vraduun let out a hearty laugh and clinked Shuran’s wine goblet before downing his own.

  Chapter Forteen

  Shuran woke the next morning sick with drink for the first time. The events of the previous night hit so hard that he turned to the cup for clarity. He realized now how wrong that decision was. He lifted his head from the soft bed and sat up. The fast change in blood flow had an immediate and violent result. Shuran doubled over onto the floor from a spinning head and heaving stomach.

  “You look positively green Shuran Shin’Ar,” the chamber man said. “What you need is a good cold bathing. Into the tub, I will clean up what remains of last evening’s festivities.”

  Shuran grumbled and crawled to the tub. After struggling to remove his garments, he unceremoniously dumped himself in the bathing tub. The shock of the cold water was evident in the girlish screech that came out. Immediately Shuran called on fire to heat the tub. The resulting effort to weave and the sudden warming of the tub combined to completely relieve his symptoms.

  “Now that is better!” he cheered.

  The chamber man just laughed and finished cleaning up the pile of sick Shuran left beside his bed.

  After finishing his morning ablutions, Shuran dressed in some less formal attire and walked out to the central chamber where he found Mallick nursing a mug of coffee and moaning in discomfort.

  “GOOD MORNING!” Shuran shouted.

  Mallick threw a biscuit at the object of his auditory assault. “Are you mad?” he spat through clenched teeth.

  “Do not order the ale if unable to settle the tab my friend,” Shuran laughed.

  “How are you so chippie this morn? You drank as much as I?” Malick asked.

  “I simply tolerate the drink better than you,” Shuran answered.

  The chamber man exited Shuran’s room and grunted while carrying a bundle of soiled rags.

  “What is that smell?” Mallick asked.

  “The remains of the young asipu’s tolerance!” the dwarf remarked with humor.

  “AH! Truth bender! What herbs did you take?” Mallick demanded.

  Shuran just nodded negatively.

  Mallick moved to place Shuran in a hold but lost his footing when Shuran dodged and laughed.

  “When you pick yourself from the floor you might try stoking the fire.” Shuran inferred.

  Mallick did not understand at first but then understanding dawned on him and he turned to the hearth. With an outstretched hand he called to the elemental fire and ignited the logs in the fireplace. Instantly, relief showed on his face. “Ninkashi!” Mallick breathed with a smile.

  “How fitting to call out to the Goddess of ale and wine!” Shuran laughed.

  A knock on the door broke their shared laughter.

  “Come,” Shuran said.

  The door opened to reveal Vraduun and Avrank. They entered the room and took seats at the table in the center of the room.

  “Good morn my friends, how does this grand day meet you?” Avrank asked as he struggled to get climb into the seat.

  “Slowly I would guess from the taste for wine you both had last eve. I could use a bite from the same goat myself this morn,” King Vraduun admitted with a smile followed by a grimace as the chamber man banged the door closed when he exited chuckling.

  “Ah, well a bit of weaving burnt threw the sick,” Mallick admitted.

  Vraduun’s expression lit up and a slight rumble and shake of the foundations brought an expression of relief to the dwarf King’s face. “Why has no one tried that before? I feel wonderfully better already?”

  “What brings you here this morning, I thought we were to meet to break fast in the royal dining room?” Shuran asked.

  “I thought it best to keep private matters that way. My staff is loyal but their lips move before their brains form thoughts,” Vraduun said. “I wanted to talk more about your father’s visit.”

  Vraduun spoke of the secret visit Dalgon paid Duranekur several harvests past. He came to speak to the King about receiving his yet unborn son. This child, grown quickly to young man, would need the assistance of the seven to heal Ersetu, was his message. “Dalgon spoke of his quest to announce your arrival at the seven realms of races, seeking knowledge of the ways of their weaving, so you might somehow fix whatever is happening to Ersetu,” Vraduun said.

  “What has happened, is the ruddy zealots of Chaos have broken the balance? How do you fix that?” Mallick muttered.

  “It is more than that, I think Mally. The balance has never been the answer,” Shuran responded.

  “What do you mean?” Avrank asked.

  “The balance has fallen at least three times now from the history we know, and I think even more than that,” Shuran started. “I do not know yet what needs to be done but I feel it somehow, that I must figure that out as I go about this quest.” Shuran turned to his adopted dwarf father before continuing. “What was he like?”

  “All business, your father was. He came to say his words and left after only resting a night with us.” Vraduun stroked his beard a moment before returning to his story. “He looks very much like you in the face but with bright blue ey
es. He is tall for a human. Being mixed blood I would guess he is of Drakkian, Human, and Giant decent in the least.”

  “Your father is part dragon?” Mallick asked.

  “Not dragon, Drakkian; recall Codge’s stories about who the Drakkians really are, fire wielders and their steed of choice is some hybrid lizard beast that flies,” Shuran said and Mallick nodded, recalling the story.

  “Just so Shuran,” Vraduun chimed in, “so if you are bound to go on this quest you will need at least two things from the dwarves my adopted son. I will personally teach you all we know of Earth Essence,” The King said.

  “And the other?” Shuran asked.

  “Why dwarf warriors to join your Zidu’Si and guard you,” The King answered with a prideful smile.

  Shuran, Mallick, Avrank, and King Vraduun met the Queen in the royal dining room for a hearty meal to break their fast. After finishing, the four men went to Vraduun’s personal library to begin Shuran’s lessons on Earth lore and Essence.

  “This library contains all the collective knowledge of Earth weaving we dwarves have. It has been compiled since the histories were first written of my people.” Again the King wore his prideful smile and straightened up as though he were ten spans tall.

  “What does your history know of this?” Shuran asked as he produced a gug stone he collected during the troll attack.

  “That would be one of the stones the trolls were slinging at you then?” The King took the stone from Shuran’s hand. “Nasty creatures them trolls. The Gods saw fit to give them more warts than brains. They could not have made this stone,” Vraduun said.

  “You have seen its like before?” Shuran asked.

  “Oh yes and you will likely see it again, but at the tip of an elven arrow!”

  “It is gug, but a twisted kind of lodestone.” The king went on to describe how gug is a charged stone that can attract metal and lines up to the pulses of energy deep in the world. This malformed sample is found in areas where the world has been damaged by the unbalance in the Essence. It is rare and not found in samples larger than a goose egg.

  “The elves use it to fashion arrow tips. We will send a contingent of dwarves to collect what was left behind during your encounter. Even more rare, are samples found large enough to make weapons such as the Menasutur.”