War Of The Wildlands(38)

Yori focused all of his attention on his reading lessons. There were thirty-two Ancient Elvish symbols to learn, each one representing a different sound in the ancient dialect. By noon, he could recite them in order, but his head felt like it was about to burst.

Taking pity on his grandson, Darin decided to take a break from the lessons. “I’ve got lots of weapons that need etching, so we’ll concentrate on that after we have a bite to eat. You can learn something a little more useful than just letters.”

“Sounds great,” Yori said, grateful for the chance to get away from the scrolls. “Will I have to speak this old language?”

“Not really,” Darin replied. “You just have to know enough to put the right runes in the right order. It’s not like you want to converse with a bunch of smart assed, magic-loving, sugar-sucking, full of shit elves anyway.”

“Have you had many dealings with Enlightened Elves?” Yori asked.

“A long time ago,” he replied. “They’re worse than you’ve heard. They’ll ask you to do something, but no matter what you do it’s never good enough for them. Never trust them. They’ll cheat you if they can.”

Lem fetched three bowls of stew from the gathering area of the village. Yori had hoped they could join the rest of the clan as they ate, but Darin had too much work to do and wouldn’t leave the forge. Getting to know his kinsmen would have to wait for another day.

Once they had finished eating, Darin placed a pile of iron arrow tips on the workbench. “You know how to forge these, I presume,” he said.

Yori nodded. Na’zorans did not typically use arrows, but Yori had crafted them many times for visitors to Enald’s marketplace.

“Good. We can skip that part.” He fetched a bundle of tools rolled up in a wide leather strip. Inside were thirteen different chisels, each resting in its own leather pocket. Darin took out a chisel and handed it to Yori. “What do you think?” he asked.

Yori examined the chisel, turning it over in his hand. “The iron work is good,” he said. “The tip is very fine and quite sharp. Back in Enald I would have used this to etch my uncle’s mark onto the blade of a sword or dagger.”

“We’re going to do something much better with it,” he replied. “But it’s good to know you’ve done a bit of delicate work and not just a bunch of hammering. Lem is great with a hammer but terrible with a chisel.”

Yori observed as his grandfather began to etch runes into an arrow tip. It appeared to him nothing more than etching any other mark or design into the metal. There were no magic words, no chanting, and no beams of magical light. The entire process seemed a little unimpressive.

“This arrow tip will now explode when it hits its target. Whatever is struck will burst into flame.” Darin handed Yori the arrow tip.

As he looked at the runes, he saw a faint red glow within the etching. Stunned, he asked, “How did you do that?”

“Do what?” he asked, giggling.

“The runes are glowing,” Yori said. “How do you give them their power?”

“It’s the blood in my veins, Yori, and it’s in yours as well.” He patted Yori on the shoulder and grabbed a second arrow tip. Yori bent down to watch more closely as his grandfather again chiseled a series of four runes into the arrow tip. To his amazement, Darin’s eyes flashed green as he chiseled into the metal. Yori realized that the process wasn’t the important part. The person doing the etching was what mattered.

“Can anyone learn this?” Yori asked.

“Any elf probably could, but I can’t say they’d all be as good at it.” He handed the second arrow tip to Yori. “Your father was really something special. He could finish these twice as fast as I ever could. You have his eyes, you know.”

“How do these runes work, exactly?” Yori asked. “I don’t understand the process.”

“Like all elven magic, it comes from within. You’ll need to learn a bit of earth magic, but that will come naturally to you. Then it’s just a matter of putting the runes in the proper order. As long as you have talent with the metal, you can etch runes. Poor Lem just can’t seem to master the fine details. I suppose it takes an artistic talent as well.”

Yori had never considered himself particularly artistic. He did enjoy creating the fine details of a sword rather than the everyday tools he used to make back in Ren’s shop. He remembered the pride he had felt when he finished the inlay for Aelryk’s court sword. The process had taken many long hours, but the joy he felt upon seeing the finished product had been its own reward. It was truly a thing of beauty to behold, and Yori had impressed even himself with the quality of his work.