“I suppose I could,” he replied. “Does he know he has a grandson?”
“I don’t know,” Yori said, looking down at his feet. “I suppose he knows that my father and mother were together, but I can’t remember ever meeting him.”
“It couldn’t hurt to talk to him, I guess,” Hydon said. “We don’t usually bring strangers back to our village, though. Maybe I could ask him to come here tomorrow.” Hydon was inclined to believe Yori’s story, but no human had ever come into their village, with the possible exception of Yori’s mother. He could not remember her, and he did not feel safe bringing a half-human among his people.
“That’ll have to do,” Yori replied. “Do you think he’ll come?”
“I can’t say,” he said with a shrug. “If he knows you exist, I imagine he’ll want to meet you.”
Yori replaced his cap, once again hiding his pointed ears. “I guess I’ll look for you in the morning, then.”
As he turned to leave the shop, Hydon had a change of heart. He felt sorry for the young man who had come seeking his family. “Wait,” he said. “Come to the village with me this afternoon. Darin is too old to travel to the markets. The worst he can do is send you away.”
“Thank you so much,” Yori said, sounding relieved.
“I have some work to finish, but once it’s done one of the others can watch the shop while I take you to the village.”
“Could you use any help?” Yori asked.
“Only if you know how to construct an arrow.”
“I know how to forge the tips,” he replied, hoping that would help.
“You’re a smith?”
“I’ve been an apprentice to one for several years,” he replied proudly.
“Then you can definitely help. I’ll handle the feathers, and you can secure the tips.”
Yori gladly took a seat next to the elf and busied himself with the arrows. After what seemed an eternity, they finally finished and departed for the village. The pair entered the dense forest, the brown leaves crunching under their feet. A warmth permeated the forest air despite the chill of winter. The trees blocked the cold breeze and insulated the small amount of heat left on the ground. As the sun moved lower in the sky, Yori feared the warmth would not last, and the world would again succumb to winter.
After an hour in the forest, they arrived at the edge of the elven village. Yori took a deep breath at the sight of the huts and the scent of the campfires. He felt as if he were home, even though he had never before set foot in a Wild Elf village. These were his people too, and he felt a sense of belonging that he had never experienced before. In his heart, he hoped that they would accept him.
Hydon led the way to Darin’s hut. Yori followed, trying to quell his excitement. He did not want to appear as an over-excited puppy begging for a treat. Once he caught sight of the forge, he knew he had reached his grandfather’s home. A young, fair-haired elf was hunched over a workbench and did not hear them approach.
“Hello, Lem,” Hydon said. “Is Darin around?”
“He’s inside,” he replied without looking up from his work. Darin had just emerged from his hut and was heading back to the forge. He nodded at Hydon and stopped short when he saw Yori.
“Forest bless me,” he said as he stared at Yori. “You must be Yon’s boy.”
Hydon gave Yori a pat on the back and departed.
“I am,” Yori replied. “How did you know?”
“You look exactly like him,” Darin replied. “Well, except you’re a head taller. What brings you here?”
“I came hoping you could teach me to etch runes like my father did.”
“Is that so,” he asked suspiciously. “Do you plan to use this knowledge for humans or for elves?”
“I don’t know, honestly,” Yori replied. “I lived in Enald my whole life, and no one ever really accepted me. Na’zora’s prince offered to help me out of trouble if I would learn the runes and return to work for him someday.”
“Did he help you?”
“Yes,” Yori replied.
“Then it sounds like you owe him.”
“I suppose I do,” he said, knowing that it would be a very easy promise to break. There was nothing binding Yori to the commitment other than his word.
“I don’t like the idea of humans using runed weapons,” Darin said. “It is all too likely they will use them against our kinsmen.”
“Will you not teach me, then?”
“You are my grandson,” the old elf said. “I will teach you what I know, and I will trust you to make the right decision in the end.” Darin grabbed him and clutched him tightly, tears welling in his eyes. Looking at this young man reminded him of the son he had lost, and he was overcome with emotion.