Beginning of a Hero (Legends of Windemere)

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “New topic!” Luke announces in a panic. “What are you doing in this shed? I would expect a girl of your caliber to be hiding in a nicer place than this. After all, there is fertilizer in here.” He moves to sit on the ground next to her and she attempts to get to her feet. For no apparent reason, Kira falls down, landing on Luke’s lap.

  “I’m so sorry. I’m such a klutz,” Kira claims, getting to her knees. “Gabriel only knows why my father insisted on sending me here. I hate fighting, but he says that I need to know how to be a better leader and how to defend myself from his enemies. You must know how it is. Callindors are always in danger because of their reputation. By the way, I owe you a reward for tending to my hand.”

  Placing her hands on his knees, Kira leans over to give Luke a kiss on the forehead, inadvertently pressing herself against him. She freezes with her lips on his forehead, her body rigid and tense. Luke cannot tell if she is prolonging the kiss or if she suddenly realized that she is pressing against him. When his tries to look down, he immediately notices that her shirt is dangerously loose. Luke abruptly pushes Kira away and struggles to his feet. A curtain of long, black hair prevents him from seeing her reaction.

  “W-Wait,” Luke stutters. He takes a deep breath and wipes sweat from his brow before nervously rambling. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but I am not really interested. I mean, you are an attractive young lady and if we were in a different situation then I would probably be interested, but I really only wanted to know what you are doing here. You should really button up your shirt before something falls out. Not that I’m hoping that happens or even thinking about it happening. I mean, I still feel bad about the incident in class, so it doesn’t make any sense for me to see them since I obviously was trying to avoid seeing them before. Um . . . Uh . . . Why are you in the shed?”

  “I guess you really didn’t look at them,” Kira says with a sparkle of disappointment in her green eyes. “I’m surprised about that. I thought all warriors enjoyed the sight of a woman since they spend so much time alone or among men. I guess with your looks, you don’t have to go for too long without a woman”

  Luke gulps as he pleads, “Please tell me why you’re here, so I can be on my way.”

  “It is to get away,” Kira bluntly answers.

  “I don’t think I follow you.”

  “Like I said before, my father wants me to learn leadership skills and how to defend myself,” Kira states in an impatient tone. “He hopes this experience will teach me how warriors think and act. That way I can work with them when I need help protecting our shipments. My father is getting old and I am his eldest, and favorite, child, so I will be given the family business when he passes away. Contrary to the gossip, it isn’t easy being the only daughter of Waylin Grasdon.”

  Kira gets to her feet and levels a thoughtful stare at Luke. “I bet you get a lot of attention because of your last name. I have to deal with the same thing as you, but in different circles. That is why I hide in places like this. It gives me some time to be alone and escape those who expect things of me. Back home, I have a shack hidden about ten miles into the desert. It has a pure water spring there and I store some food there in case I get stuck in a sandstorm. Uh, why are you staring at me like that? Do I have something on my face? Did something actually fall out?”

  “Nothing fell out and your face is pretty much perfect,” Luke answers before he can stop himself. He subtly pinches himself in the thigh and bites his lower lip in embarrassment. “I didn’t realize who you were until now. I thought you were the daughter of a king or a politician. Guess I’m not as perceptive as I thought.”

  “I think we’re both missing some important stuff,” Kira whispers.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

  “It’s so weird that the two of us would meet here. My father ships his merchandise through your father’s company,” Luke says with a charming smile. “That is when the shipments need to go overseas. You’ve probably seen some of my father’s work, but you never said anything to me. I’m just babbling like a fool now. It’s just that it is very unexpected for the daughter of a shipping company to be in this kind of place. Although I’m no longer sure if I mean the academy or a utility shed.”

  “Well I am here. So are you,” Kira bravely replies, slipping between Luke and the door. “Maybe there’s a reason the two of us are here at this time. It might be an opportunity that will never happen again. I have always believed that one should never pass up any opportunity that presents itself. You never know when it is the work of Gabriel or dumb luck.”

  “I think Gabriel has more important things to do,” Luke nervously interrupts, fiddling with his ponytail.

  “I stand in a shed with the heir to the Callindor legacy and you stand here with the heir to the Grasdon Merchant House. It makes one wonder about the possibilities,” Kira diligently continues, ignoring Luke’s anxiety. “You ever kiss a girl on the lips, Luke? Of course you have. I’m willing to bet you were the center of female attention in your hometown. I mean, one just has to look at you to see the appeal. Your slender yet muscular body, your soft hair, your piercing eyes, and your warm smile. You’re very sweet too.”

  “Wait a minute!” Luke shouts, trying to go around her and get to the door. The shed is too small to let him easily pass by, especially when Kira stretches her leg to block his way. She quivers and hops awkwardly as she struggles to keep her balance.

  A mischievous smirk cross Kira's face before she pitches forward, wrapping her arms around Luke. Their lips are about to touch when Luke quickly slips out from between her arms, leaving her flailing for balance. He clambers up a shelving unit, getting enough height to hop over her while she tumbles into an open barrel. As soon as he hits the ground, Luke launches himself out the door. He lands with a crash and skids a few feet across the grass. Kira walks out of the shed with her hair covered in grass seeds. She pouts and sticks her tongue out at Luke before heading toward the Bloodfae dormitory.

  “Some hero you are!” she shouts from the middle of the courtyard. “Guess this means we’re even now!”

  Luke remains face down in the grass. “When did girls get to be so much trouble? They were never this aggressive at home. At least Selenia wasn’t standing outside the shed.”

  A callused hand suddenly grabs him by the skin of his neck, roughly yanking the half-elf to his feet. Luke is spun around before getting hit in the stomach by something wooden for the second time today. As he falls to his knees, Luke can only think about asking Thomas why so many people aim for the stomach. His thoughts are snapped back to what is happening when a strong hand grabs him by the chin, forcing him to look his attacker in the eye.

  “I should ask what you were doing in there, but I think I already know the answers,” Kevin Masterson snarls. “You should be ashamed of yourself for taking advantage of that young girl.”

  Kevin shifts his hand to grab Luke by the lower jaw and drags him to the wall of the academy. Nobody is around as Luke is slammed against the wall and Kevin pulls a wooden club from his belt loop. After, the original shock, Luke gets enough sense to prepare for another strike. Kevin comes in quickly with a diagonal strike to Luke’s head, but the younger warrior swiftly rolls underneath it. Being unarmed, Luke tackles Kevin to the ground and punches his wrist with all his strength. The club falls out of the older warrior’s hands as he begins to laugh.

  “That wasn’t funny,” Luke declares, cautiously getting up. “You could have caved in my head with that shot. The hell are you doing?” He offers a hand to Kevin who takes it and gets to his feet.

  “I'm just keeping you on your toes, boy. It was obvious that nothing happened in that shed since you came leaping out like a terrified monkey,” Kevin says with a wide, but still scary, grin. “So, I decided to pick on you a little. Keeps you humble and in line. That and everyone else seems to have had a shot at you around here. I figured it was my turn.”


  “I’m starting to feel like the resident punching bag,” Luke admits, rubbing his throbbing stomach.

  Kevin shrugs and awkwardly bends down to pick up his club, looping it to his belt again. “A small warning for you to remember is that many of the female students get kicks out of tormenting the male students. I believe Thomas already warned you about this, but I will remind you again. The girls know that all the boys are at the age where they can barely keep themselves in control, so they make teasing a game. Selenia used to stop the game until she realized that seduction can be a useful tool in the field. She never used it herself, but many women use their looks to their advantage. So, we leave the game alone until it goes too far and a rule is broken. Although, this is the first time Kira ever tried to seduce someone. The girl is usually too busy yelling and whining to put any real effort into anything.”

  “Maybe she just wanted to be alone and I barged in on her by accident,” Luke politely suggests.

  “It could also be that you two have been breaking the rules since your little shirt-ripping incident,” Kevin accuses him while cracking his knuckles. “Yup, I heard about that. A rather odd event considering what I just saw. You acted like a gentleman back then, but who knows what happened if you went to privately apologize to her later. I know how you kids get sometimes.”

  Luke can feel a lump grow in his throat while Kevin quietly watches him. It is a long silence that is filled by Kevin occasionally spitting onto the grass and Luke nervously shifting his feet. The old warrior finally lets out a laugh and gives the half-elf a thundering slap on the back, knocking him to the ground.

  “You are far too easy to mess with,” Kevin whispers, hoisting Luke back to his feet. “Let me be honest with you. It is very rare that something happens between two students that would be grounds for permanent dismissal. You’re safe for now, boy. Unless, you actually did something with that girl because then I’m going to have to bring you to Selenia. She isn’t someone you want to talk to about this.”

  “I swear nothing happened. I barely know her. Can I please go to my next class?” Luke asks, rubbing his neck. Kevin steps out of his way and nods. The old man is still smiling after Luke disappears across the courtyard.

  “His father and aunt would have seen me coming from a mile away. His grandfather would have had me on my back once I was in reach,” the seasoned veteran claims. “Part of me thinks he saw me coming, but he didn’t react quick enough to block me. It was almost like he is purposely holding himself back, but it’s hard to tell since we don’t know him too well. Still, we know the family and he isn’t too different from the rest of them. He’s just cockier and, in my opinion, unluckier. What do you think?”

  All Kevin hears is a sigh and someone in a nearby tree jumping onto the wall and walking away. “Humph. You never did know how to be impressed with raw talent.”

  *****

  The deafening clangs and bangs of the blacksmith is a sorely missed melody to Luke’s ears as he works on his class project. He is attempting to make a dagger, but the detail that he wants is proving to be a frustrating challenge. He had already spent several class sessions on the blade without having a chance to start on the hilt. A snake-like curve is beginning to form in the metal along with a corkscrew-like twisting. Luke is barely aware of his work as his mind wanders and absorbs the sounds around him.

  The balmy and loud workshop has reminded him of his father’s workshop since his first class. All of the familiar noises give him a sense of both belonging and homesickness. It pains Luke to admit that being at the forge is second nature to him, but he knows that such a life would not satisfy him until his wanderlust was sated. This issue was the focus of the on-going debate between his father and grandfather. His father would argue for the safe life of a craftsman while his grandfather would swear by the heroic traditions of the Callindor bloodline. It was always a private argument, but Luke found ways to eavesdrop and catch some of the barbs that his father and grandfather hurled at each other. One time they had even come to blows, which resulted in both men suffering injuries that required bed rest and, against their constant complaining, coddling by Luke’s mother. A smile crosses Luke’s face as he remembers the week where his father and grandfather learned to never cross the woman of the house. Unless they wanted to be further injured by an accidentally dropped bowl of hot soup or flipped out of bed in the middle of the night when the sheets had to be changed. The memories bring a tear to Luke’s eyes as they drive home the fact that he never said good-bye to his mother.

  Luke is still reminiscing while the other students begin putting their projects away and cleaning up their workplaces. He continues banging at the hot metal in front of him as sparks singe his arm, the pain jolting him out of his trance. He stares at his project and realizes that putting a spiral into the metal is not going the way he wanted. The spiral is becoming too pronounced when all he wanted was a slight twist that could only be seen upon closer examination. Giving the metal a final hit and returning it to the forge, Luke considers changing his project to a bracer or a simpler dagger.

  “You keep going like that and you’ll never grow your arm hair back,” Duggan warns him, picking up the hot metal with his bare hand. “It's time for you to take a break, kid. Everyone else has left for their next class, but I’m guessing you have some free time since you’re still here. If not then we’ll just say I asked you to stay late. I’d give you some ale if that damn woman hadn’t outlawed the fine brew from the premises. Stuffy woman wouldn’t know a good brew if it bit her on tongue.” The dwarf puts the metal on an empty shelf before grabbing Luke by the shoulder. The calloused hand is surprisingly cool as Duggan leads the half-elf to the back of the room.

  “I was hoping to finish the spiral formation before lunch, sir. Where are we going?” Luke asks, wiping the sweat and dirt from his face with the back of his arm. He only succeeds in smearing the grime across his face.

  “Just a secret that I believe I can show you. I don’t show many people this place,” Duggan admits as he searches the back wall. “I put it in several years ago without Selenia’s knowledge, so you don’t whisper a word about this. The woman has an unhealthy dislike toward things of this nature being on her property. I figure I can trust you, though. You are Ilan’s kid, after all. That man and I go further back than any of my other living, non-dwarf friends.”

  Luke suspiciously eyes the dwarf. “You know my dad?”

  The dwarf ignores the question while he continues checking the bare wall. After a minute of feeling and pressing the wall, Duggan puts his hand on a solitary brick and mutters a phrase in Old Dwarven. The brick briefly glows deep red, the symbol of a swinging battle-axe moving from one side of the brick to the other. A large chunk of the wall pivots into itself, revealing a small passage that is low enough to force Duggan to duck as he enters.

  Luke has to get onto all fours to crawl into the dank passage. The passage is very wide to allow the stocky Duggan to easily pass through, but Luke’s head ends up hitting the low ceiling a few times. After the third dizzying bump, he gets on his stomach and drags himself along the roughly hewn floor until he enters a windowless room. The only lighting comes from magical candles that sit in glass orbs set high on the walls. Casks of dwarven ale are piled along the side walls and Duggan immediately pours himself a frothy mug. It takes a few seconds for Luke’s eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, but he has to blink his eyes in disbelief when he looks at the back wall. Finely-crafted weapons and helmets, each marked with the symbol of a swinging battle-axe, take up the entire wall. In the middle of the display is a stone altar with a glowing warhammer standing on its head. A silk ribbon is tied around the weapon’s metal handle, which has been seamlessly attached to the stone head. Luke walks up to the altar, silently gazing at the weapon.

  “Pieces of art,” Duggan says in a low, soft voice. “All of them are pieces of art. The opportunities to make objects of beauty like these are what make my life worth living. The Holy One has smiled on me
for most of my life. I have been loyal to him from the time I could finish a mug of my family’s finest, strongest ale.” He puts a full mug into Luke’s hand and places another on the altar next to the warhammer.

  “That is a thing of beauty. I take it you made everything in this room for your god,” Luke replies in a hushed tone. “I’m not familiar with the Holy One. I was raised on human and elven gods.”

  “There are no separate pantheons in this world, kid. Hasn’t been since a time when the gods had to rally against a mutual threat. All clerics and casters can tell you that,” Duggan explains with a smile. “We mortals no longer know who that foe was, but we do know that the dwarven gods took the front line alongside the orc and elven gods. The Holy One was in charge of our pantheon and he was one of the few dwarf gods to survive the battle. After the battle, the gods agreed to merge pantheons to cover the positions of their fallen allies and avoid any infighting during a time when they needed to unite.”

  “Oh.” Luke tries his best to show his understanding and interest, but the vacant look on his face gives him away.

  Duggan takes another drink before continuing, “Sorry. I don’t get to talk theology with anyone other than Aedyn and Kevin around here. In regards to your comment about me making everything here, I can’t take credit for some things. It would be dishonorable to even joke about taking credit.”

  “What didn’t you make? Everything looks like dwarven style gear,” Luke says, carefully examining the back wall. “Well, maybe you didn’t make that shield. I never heard of a dwarf making something out of crab shells, shark teeth, and seaweed.” He touches the dark red shield and immediately feels magic flow into his arm.

  “Good eye. That is the Sea King’s shield, which was given to me by a sea elf maiden that I saved from a giant squid. She was quite taken with me considering I was an energetic young boulder of a dwarf at the time. I sometimes miss the lass, but it would never have worked out. I found it uncomfortable to be weightless while underwater and she disliked the sluggishness of land life. I’m going off on a tangent again. There is one other item that I am not responsible for, but you won’t be able to figure it out,” Duggan says with a puckish grin, picking up the warhammer and spinning it over his head a few times. “The fog-looking armor over there was a present from your father while we were adventuring. A caster friend enchanted it, but your old man is the smith who crafted it. He said the armor should solve my problem of being too loud and obvious when we had to use stealth and silence. We dwarves are great warriors, but being quiet walkers is not one of our talents. Tis the way the Holy One made us and we would not have it any other way.”