Aragoth

Book 1

Chapter 1- Evil Implanted

The forest was calm and peaceful. A gentle breeze rippled through the trees, the branches swaying slowly. Only a few leaves were beautiful colors of red and orange among the bright green, as autumn would soon be upon the land. A dirt path ran through the forest, a walkway for tourists, showing the brilliant scenery. The sky was a calm baby blue, with large, white clouds in different shapes.

Suddenly the sky was filled with forming and swirling black and dark clouds. A single bolt of lightning shot out, nearly lighting a tree on fire. Out of the clouds, 5 black horses descended. Their riders wore long and flowing black robes, with obsidian armor. The horses wore the same, almost impenetrable armor as their riders. Four of them stayed in a small, square formation, the fifth proving to be their leader.

He looked as if he were a lord of darkness. His armor was a strong, shining silver color. It was made of Lurmin, an unbreakable metal; only true gods or worthy godlings have ever worn it. His horse was the darkest, a complete pitch-black midnight. It too wore the metal armor.

"Halt," the leader commanded, and the riders obeyed. He looked around, alert for any sounds. Nearby rabbits and squirrels hurried into their burrows and up trees, terrified by the newcomers. Deer were rushing away and even alpha wolves were bounding away in fear. More lightning crashed and thunder exploded, the black clouds swirling, as if it were forming into the strongest storm the land had ever had. The horses didn't seem to notice, hearing only the commands of their riders and their leader.

The leader narrowed his eyes. "He is near." The riders glanced at each other. "Garduseh!" He snapped, and the horses immediately dispersed to search. His own horse neighed, reared on his back legs, then galloped forward. He looked around as he passed the trees, which had lost their lovely colors, and the leaves were a dull and grayish color. He was determined to find the boy. His soul filled with anger as he thought of all the times the child had slipped from his fingers. Whether he had him backed against the wall of a stone building, or trapped up in a tree, the leader had never gotten his hands on the boy. He always... vanished.

But vanishing isn't his power, thought the leader bitterly. It must be one of the brothers.

He never had a chance to get one of the 11 other boys; it was impossible. Galmoran was the only vulnerable one, after his exile. The leader scowled at the thought.

Suddenly, he heard child-like laughter. A boy's laughter. The horse came to an immediately stop, then turned and raced in the direction of the sound. It got louder and louder as the horse and it's master rushed closer. It suddenly stopped, and for a moment, all was silent, except for occasional thunder. It quickly started again, coming from a different direction. The leader growled and they ran towards it. This repeated several times, making him more and more angry and frustrated. He was even closer to the sound, and it stopped. But he could see them.

3 teenage boys were lounging in a large maple oak tree, seeming as if they didn't have a care in the world. The blonde haired boy looked to be 14 years old, and the 2 ginger boys looked exactly the same at the age of 16. They were obviously identical twins. They were on 3 different branches, rather far from each other. Their clothes were a white silky tunic with a golden belt. Bands of gold were around the muscles on their arms. Their leggings were a dark brown, with fancy hunting boots, and fur on the inside. Their hair reached a few inches past their ears, where they started to curl. They glanced at the leader and smirked. "Hey, look who finally showed up."

He scowled, angered. "Where is he!?" He demanded, knowing that he had no way to harm them. The blonde looked offended. "Whoa there, that's not asking politely!"

"Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?" asked one of the twins with a mischievous smirk.

The leader scowled more.

The boys jumped down from the tree and landed perfectly on their feet without effort, their boots making a small thud. "As you know, we're here about our baby brother, Galmoran." The leader only glared angrily. "He's obviously not going to be caught anytime soon, sooooo..."

"I will catch your little brat of a brother, even if I die doing it." The boys rolled their eyes. "How can you do that if he keeps being reborn and you have terrible tracking skills?"

Before the leader could reply, one of the twins cut in. "Well, looks like we have to go already. Mother's calling." In a flash, they were gone.

The leader growled, then let out a shrill scream of frustration.

A few miles away from the forest, a group of four friends, 2 girls and 2 boys, were having a picnic. They were the 4 lords and ladies of the High Council of Aragoth. The eldest boy chuckled as a small baby hedgehog crawled into a bowl of potato salad.

"Bragi, don't do that," he said, lifting the hedgehog from the bowl. The other boy made a face. "I'm not eating that now."

"Me either," agreed the girls.

"Don't be so grouchy today, Neithan," the eldest said, rolling his eyes playfully. His brown hair reached a few inches past his ears, curling slightly. His emerald green eyes shimmered in the sunlight, but if you knew him well enough, you could see the hidden pain. Neithan ignored him and continued eating his hamburger.

"You two would make such a cute couple," said one of the girls. Neithan and the boy nearly choked. "ALYSS!"

"I'm joking!" Alyss exclaimed. "Calm down, Grady," she said. Grady's face was reddish from almost choking. He glared at the second girl, who was laughing. "Astra! Shut up!" he snapped, but he was ignored. He growled. "What's that?" Alyss asked, after the laughter had died down and they were calm again. She was looking over at the clouds that had suddenly formed over the forest. Grady frowned. "I don't know," he murmured, then tensed up. He knew only one person who made storms like that. And he felt fear at the thought.

"W-We should go back to the castle," he said, accidently stuttering. But he was ignored.

The group continued eating, Grady being the only nervous one. Suddenly he got a familiar feeling; the feeling that you get after you come home after years of being away. He held his breath, processing the feeling. It vanished and he frowned.

They packed up their things and trekked back to the castle. Grady was the king, despite being only 18 years old. He never wore his crown though, and hated his position. The capital of Aragoth was called Fairhold; a grand palace.

Astra stretched her wings. She was human, but half dragon. Her eyes were a dark red, her long hair a midnight black color. Alyss was a mer; she gained a mermaid tail when she touched water. Her long blonde locks reached past her waist and were often tied back with a strip of leather. Neithan was human, but he had many scars from adventuring. His blackish brown hair reached his shoulders, and his eyes were a stormy grey.

They put the food away and went down to the docks to swim. They ran off the pier and jumped into the warm ocean water. They were swimming until the sun set, then they got out of the water to dry off. Grady shifted from a human to a wolf with his powers, and shook the water from his fur. The girls jumped back. "Grady!"

He shifted back into a human and grinned at them. "It's just water!"

"I just dried off," Alyss growled. She grabbed a towel to dry off again.

They walked back to the castle. They dressed in clean and dry garments, then bid goodbye as they each went to their own homes. Grady walked up to his bed chambers and laid down to sleep. His dreams were undisturbed, and his sleep was peaceful, not knowing that tomorrow, his life would change drastically.

Chapter 2- Attacked

The leader- his name was Dorandal, meaning 'bringer of darkness' in looked at the large palace, his eyes narrowed. It was very early in the morning, and all in the land were asleep, except for the animals of the night. But Dorandal and his army of Kalith were awake. He knew the boy was almost in his grasp, and if a war was what he needed- then so be it.

He swung his sword upwards and pointed towards the castle. "GUNDAKAR!" He roared. The Kalith immediately surged forth towards the grand palace, galloping.

Dorandal smirked to himself as his soldiers rushed past him.

I have you now.

Meanwhile, in the palace, all were asleep. Grady shifted slightly, then turned onto his side. He mumbled, his words inaudible. A gentle breeze flew past the window, swaying the royal blue curtains. All was silent.

It was only five minutes later that Grady was aroused from his sleep. A maid was shaking him, and had a terrified look on her young face. "Milord!" she cried, her voice heavy with a thick accent. "You must get up! An army is attacking!"

The words were enough to get Grady out of bed, but he was still drowsy. He dismissed the maid and fumbled to get dressed. He opened his memory chest and reached inside for his armor. He grasped the breastplate and pulled it out.

The iron was made of Durtin; a valuable dwarvish metal. He grabbed a chainmail link shirt and pulled it on. He finished and stumbled out into the hallway, tying on his sword belt. He pulled it tight, so it wouldn't fall off, then tied his quiver strap across his chest. His bow was slung across his back and his shield was on top of both. The crest on his breastplate was a flaming arrow. It was carved into the metal, and painted, making it stand out. The arrow was the symbol of Aragoth.

Grady drew his sword as he approached the gates. He heard the sounds of swords clanging and clashing in the air. An arrow suddenly pierced the ground before him and he jumped back in surprise. That made him become wide awake. He stepped closer, then gasped as something suddenly tackled him.

He squirmed, fighting to push the weight off. He kicked it, and it rolled off him. He growled and lunged at it, sword ready. He slashed, careful not to use too much energy. His stroke was quickly blocked by its shield, and he quickly drew his own from his back.

He continued to fight it for several minutes longer. It's a Kale! He realized. That's why it's so difficult to defeat.

He scowled at the thought of such a vile creature daring to attack his kingdom. He was filled with adrenaline as he finally struck down the creature. He spotted one of the lords of the king's court- Orbis- and ran to help him. He thrust his sword through the Kale's back, straight into its heart. It screeched and dispersed into a pile of black dust. Orbis gave him a grateful look, and they both ran to help the guards. Suddenly he heard a deafening shout, a command in the Blood language.

He quickly turned and paled, horrified. On a hill, stood hundreds of rows of Kalith. He immediately realized that the creatures they had been fighting at the gates were only the first waves; the weakest ones.

He cursed to himself, then started to yell his own commands. "SOUND THE ALARM! GET THE TOWNSPEOPLE SAFE!"

He growled and turned again as several guards ran off to obey. Most swung up, onto horses from the stables. The stallions and mares reared, then bolted down the road. The 4 other guards ran up to the horn tower, where they blew hard into a large horn, creating a vibrating and blasting sound; louder and more commanding than a trumpet. One guard blew, making a low sound. Another blew, and the sound higher. The next was higher than that, and the fourth was the highest pitch.

Grady gasped as a large boulder was catapulted towards them. It smashed into the walls around the gate, and stone debris flew out at them. "TAKE COVER!" Grady shouted, dashing away as another boulder was flung. His body was tense, his eyes searching for any other dangers, other than the boulders. Seeing none, he took a deep breath, then continued to fight.

The battle spread to the inside of the palace. Grady's wrist began to throb from the weight of his sword. Soon another wave of the creatures flooded in, and they were joined by warriors from the nearby village, Takriot.

Grady was glad for the assistance. The guards were starting to show signs of weakness, but they pressed on.

Suddenly he felt someone press their back against his. He stiffened, then turned his head. He saw Neithan, grinning at him. His friend's expression made Grady grin back. Neithan loved the thrill of a battle. He was dressed in his iron armor, his sword in his grip.

Growling, they both lunged forward, slashing and stabbing. They fought different Kalith, yet they never strayed far from each other. They weren't close friends. They often argued, and in most cases, they ended up with a fist fight. Despite being exact opposites, they were both very skilled in their weapons, and they were like a whirling storm when they were fighting side by side.

The number of Kalith started to decrease. Alyss and Astra were also fighting. Alyss was short, and her build was delicate, but she could do much damage. Her hair was braided over her right shoulder, and she was stabbing as many Kalith as she could without getting into a full fight with one.

Astra, meanwhile, was diving at any Kalith she saw. Her claws were sharp and did mass damage, as she dove and flew at them. A dagger was in her grip, and she was using it whenever she could. Her black hair flew behind her as the wind whipped it back.

The four friends were deadly together.

Soon all the Kalith were dead. There were still a hundred on the hill, but they didn't move. Then slowly, their horses walked down the hill. Grady bit his tongue to not cry out. Instead, he narrowed his eyes. "You."

Dorandal smirked at him. "It's be a while." The guards didn't move. The Kalith and their leader stood in the doorway, in a straight line. Dorandal walked forward, Grady standing firmly in front of the midnight-black stallion. He didn't flinch, and he was determined to not show weakness or fear.

"Surrender."

Grady growled. "What will you do if I surrender?"

"Your men will be enslaved, your women and children will be spared of hard labor, and you will executed with a Mordian blade."

Neithan frowned, noticing Grady become tense at the mention of the blade. The adventurer had never heard of the sword, but apparently Grady had. He felt the king raise his barriers, concealing his thoughts. Neithan watched as the room was agonizingly silent.

"No." Grady growled. "I know what that blade does, and I will not let it happen. Nor will my men become slaves of creatures with terrible morals!"

Dorandal narrowed his eyes. "So be it." He raised his gloved hand, a ball of glowing Magicka as he aimed at Grady. Grady swallowed hard, fear keeping him in place. He felt like he was in a nightmare, where you're being chased by a monster, but you can't move. It was a terrifying feeling.

"GRADY!" Alyss screamed, before the magicka hit Grady in the head and the young king blacked out.

Chapter 3- Injury

The boy stood in the large court. His knees were shaking, his face pale, and he was nervously kneading the hem of his tunic between his fingertips.

He jumped as the large doors behind him flew open. He shook even more with fear, as his father strode in, his robes swishing on the marble floor. 9 Gods accompanied him. They sat in the chairs, the boy's father sitting in the largest chair. The looks he got from the elders were disgusted and hateful.

"Galmoran," his father, Astros, growled. "Your crime is one that can never be forgiven. It is very much worthy of death."

Galmoran whimpered. He was only 12 years old.

"The court and I have come to a decision. You have two choices: death, or exile."

It was too much for the child. He fell to his knees, breaking into tears. "P-Please!" he sobbed. "I'm sorry!"

Astros narrowed his eyes. "Choose or it will be chosen for you." Galmoran only continued to sob, terrified. Suddenly the doors swung open again, and there stood Galmoran's mother, Luna.

"ASTROS!" she yelled. Her expressions were usually calm and understanding, but rage was clear on her face.

She rushed to Galmoran and pulled him from the floor and into her protective arms. The boy clung to her, sobbing harder.

"You would go as far as killing your youngest son, just because he made a mistake!?" she growled.

Astros glared. "Luna, please leave us."

"No. You cannot put him through this kind of torture! You've humiliated him enough in front of the entire city, and yet you're still going to make him choose life or death!?"

"Enough!" Astros roared, standing and slamming his fist on the table, the sound echoing. It was enough to make the other Gods cringe slightly.

Luna glared at her husband, holding her son close to her. "You're not going to do this to him."

"LEAVE US!"

She growled, then left, taking Galmoran with her.

Grady suddenly woke up from the dream, sitting up quickly breathing hard. Tears were rushing down his face, and he swallowed hard.

He cried out, a sharp, stabbing pain in his head. He laid back down and whimpered. A healer suddenly rushed over. "You're awake!"

Grady only moaned in pain.

"Here," she said, placing a cool and damp cloth on his forehead. The pain eased a bit, but not much.

He managed to fall back asleep, but he only had a nightmare.

He woke up, screaming this time, instead of crying. He calmed down, and the pain was gone. He got up, alone. He was in a dark green tent, and he had been laying on a cot. He said and ran his fingers through his hair. "What happened?" he murmured to himself.

"Dorandal knocked you unconscious, and he got the Starstone."

He looked up quickly. Astra, Alyss and Neithan had suddenly appeared in the tent. His eyes widened. "What!?"

"You suffered a severe concussion, but you're healing. You're lucky your armor was made of Durtin. It would have killed you instantly if it had been any other metal." Grady frowned.

"D-Dorandal... He... My men..."

"The survivors are either recovering or helping out with the camp. Only a few are MIA, and we can only assume that they've been taken as prisoners. And he has appointed himself as king of Aragoth. He also has possession of the Starstone."

"WHAT!?"

"You missed a lot."

"H-How long was I out?"

"A few weeks." Grady's face became pale, then he took a deep breath. "Grady?" Alyss asked with a frown. "Are you alright?"

"Um... N... Nope. Not at all." He turned in a circle, then fainted.

Alyss sighed. "Back to bed, Grady." They each helped to put Grady back on the cot. They then left him to rest.

The three friends walked out from the tent. "Marlin!" Neithan called. The war general turned and scowled at the sight of them.

"What do ye want?" she growled.

"The king has woken, but he is resting again. It will be a few days before he is well enough to join us."

This made her scowl more. Her grandfather, Numirex III, had been king of Aragoth, but Grady's grandfather killed him in a challenged duel for the throne. She would be more than happy if the blow that Grady took had been fatal- or even killed him.

"Good." The friends knew she didn't think it was good at all, but they left it alone. Marlin would never accept Grady as her king. They walked to the food tent to get some food. The capital of Aragoth was far up north, and it had changed from a cool summer day to a freezing winter day overnight, though it was only Autumn. Their camp was only in the mountains near the city.

They rubbed their cold hands together and blew hot air on them, warming their leather gloves. They were wrapped in coats and they were still shivering. They received hot bowls of soup, and they held it with both hands to stay warm. They sat in Grady's tent to eat, so they would be able to keep an eye on their friend.

Within an hour, Grady stirred. HIs eyes fluttered, and he opened them.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Astra remarked with a smirk.

The king rolled his eyes and sat him. "Mmm..." he mumbled. "I fainted, didn't I..."

"Yup." Alyss got up to get him some soup and Astra got him another blanket. Grady curled up, blowing on his hands and pressing them between his thighs for more warmth. He shivered as Alyss came back in with a bowl for him, and he eagerly took it, sitting up again.

"Mmm..." he murmured, eating large spoonfuls.

"It's one of Krell's hot foods," Neithan said. Grady smiled. Krell- the palace chef- was a wizard when it came to her cooking. All her hot foods made you feel warm and full in your belly. If you ate her cold foods, it would cool you down on a hot day.

"Marlin doesn't like that you survived."

"I'm not surprised. That woman hates me for being born." He continued to eat, getting that warm feeling. He finished, drinking the broth from the bowl, then put it down on the table. He slowly got up, and Alyss grabbed his arm to help. He wobbled- he hadn't used his legs for weeks- then stood straight. He took a step, then smiled. He tightened his coat around him and they exited the tent.

"Marlin!" He called. He smirked as he saw her narrow her eyes in hatred. "I need a favor."

"Why should I?" she hissed. He rolled his eyes, "because you are under my command, and I am your king."

"I serve my country, not some pigheaded prick who-"

"I'd stop right there," Neithan growled. He had drawn his sword and was holding it to Marlin's neck. Alyss and Astra also had their weapons drawn. Marlin glowered angrily. Grady smiled. He trusted his friends with his life. They were his family.

The general glared, then turned and stormed off.

Neithan muttered a curse under his breath and walked off. Alyss frowned and followed him. Grady looked at Astra with a questioning expression; she just shrugged. They went to get more food.

Chapter 4- Grapes and Memories

Neithan walked to the weapons tent. Alyss followed behind him, "Where are you going!?" she demanded as he got his armor. He ignored her and put it on, then walked to the horses, which were tied at a fence post. He untied a white stallion and Alyss grabbed his arm. She pulled him behind a tent, then kissed him. Neithan didn't pull away or move.

She pulled away and narrowed her eyes at him. "Where are you going."

"The woods," he said innocently. "I'm going to hunt."

"It's too dangerous out there. You could get attacked! Or injured, and you'd freeze if it starts to snow!"

He ignored the warning and got a bow and quiver full of arrows from the weapons tent and he pulled himself into the stallion's saddle. Alyss crossed her arms, scowling.

He smirked at her. "I'll be back in a few hours." He turned and galloped out of camp towards the forest.

Astra tossed the grape into the air, towards Grady. He was in wolf form, and he leaped up to catch it in his jaws.

Astra laughed. "Nice!"

Grady beamed, sitting on the frozen ground. He growled playfully, wanting to catch more grapes. "You got them all," Astra said, showing him the empty bowl. Grady frowned and shifted into human form. "Aw," he said sadly.

Astra grinned. "We can scare the cooks if you want."

Grady and Astra both had a love for mischief. They were perfect partners for tricks and pranks. "Come on!" Grady exclaimed, already dashing towards the food tent.

Astra strode over to a working chef and quickly struck up a conversation. Meanwhile, Grady shifted into a wolf and hid beneath the table. He jumped up, putting his front paws on the table. He let out a long and piercing howl. The chef jumped at the sound and turned quickly. She stared at the large, gray wolf, then let out a shrill scream and bolted. Astra was laughing uncontrollably and Grady grinned. Most of the cooks were easy to scare, and the young king and his friend always got away with it.

They calmed down and walked out of the tent. They spotted Alyss and hurried over to her. She was obviously angry.

"What's wrong?" Grady asked. Alyss growled, "Neithan! He rode off into the forest without a thought!"

"I'll get him," Astra offered. Grady shook his head. "No, I'll get him." Astra didn't protest, and Grady ran off towards the forest.

Grady padded through the forest. He bristled his fur, then quickened his pace. He sniffed the ground, then turned and ran in one direction. Soon he came to a stop, sniffing more. He struggled to pick up Neithan's scent; he feared that it would soon rain or snow, destroying the trail completely. Grady cursed to himself. Neithan was always difficult to track. Suddenly the wolf remembered the first tme he had met Neithan.

Grady shifted in the saddle of his majestic white horse. He was adorned with jewels and he wore a crown made of solid gold and diamonds. The saddle was made fancy with more jewels. His garments were worth a fortune. He felt like a walking goldmine.

His eyes searched the crowd. He was tense, watching. It was only a half hour after his coronation, and the people of Nova were lined up on the sides of the streets, shouting in joy and cheering, for the reign of King Grady would be a Golden age.

Grady stroked the horse's mane. He sighed, then waved at people. The cheers rose in volume, and Grady cringed. Suddenly his horse was stopped and he frowned, looking down at the side of his mount. An elderly woman grabbed his ankle, looking up at him with a pleading gaze. Another woman was next to her, holding a baby, wrapping in cloth.

"Please," pleaded the first woman. "She is sick, and has no mother nor father to care for her. We beg of you, please give her your blessing, O King!"

He looked around. All was silent, and all eyes were on him.

Grady frowned more, then smiled a little and took the girl in his arms. He cradled her, then gently made a mark on her forehead with his thumb. He muttered in a different language. "Blusin vas luna." Blessing of Luna. A glowing white and yellowish moon appeared on the baby's forehead. He handed her back to the woman carefully, and she made a loud gasp. "Th-Thank you!" she cried, then showed the girl's forehead to several people.

Instantly, Grady was besieged by countless people, all wanting their children to be blessed. He got an anxious and overwhelming feeling, and his thoughts became clouded. His palms sweated, and he started feeling faint. He swallowed hard, then fainted.

When he woke up, he was still in the street, his head throbbing. His crown was several feet away on the ground, and he tried to move. The pain worsened, and several guards quickly stilled him. "Don't move, your majesty, you might hurt yourself worse." The guard had a thick accent. Grady guessed that he originated from down in southern Aragoth.

He took a deep breath. He had his own blessing mark on his forehead, from when he had been born. His mark had strong magic though, given to him by the goddess of the moon herself. He felt it start to glow as the magic whirled around in his head, working to fix his concussion. Suddenly he heard a scream, from a woman. Then a young child's. Grady immediately got up, pushing away his guards. He growled and drew his sword, the magic rushing back into the mark. He ran towards the screams and stood, sword ready.

He frowned, face to face with a thief. He held a knife, his face covered by a hood.

Grady growled. "What are you doing, thief?" he demanded.

"Why do you care, O mighty king?" the thief sneered. Grady frowned, then tackled him. The thief didn't expect it, and was easily pinned down. Grady growled and pulled the mask off, glaring.

The thief glared back. "Get off!" He hissed.

Grady didn't budge. "What's your name?"

"Why should I tell you!?"

"Because I told you to." The thief scowled, then muttered, "Neithan."

Grady got off the thief and pulled him to his feet. "Why do you steal?"

"I haven't had a job in a while and I need money," he murmured. "You don't need to steal anymore," said Grady. He took a small pouch from his pocket and handed it to the man. Neithan looked at him with disbelief. "You're not going to arrest me?"

"Why should I?"

Neithan gaped, then turned and fled.

Grady didn't give chase. He went back to his horse, thinking of the man.

Grady smiled at the memory. And only days after, he had had his guards bring Neithan to the palace. Grady offered to give him a position as a high lord, again surprising Neithan.

Suddenly Grady thought of Nova. He wondered what had happened to the fair people.

Ah, Nova. The city was populated by all races; men, dwarves and elves alike. The apparel of the people were brightly colored, and many languages were spoken. Bright flags waved in the wind, and the markets were full of nobles, all buying and exchanging goods. No beggars remained on the streets, for the innkeepers were kind and would always provide food, drink and a warm bed to those who need it.

The roads were a smooth, sand-colored brick. The buildings were made of sandstone brick, same color of the street, that reflected the sunlight. The roofs were made of orange reeds, and the doors were solid wood.

Whenever the king came, on either official business matters or to just relax, people would part and create a clear path for him and whoever was with him. Some people were bolder, and went to him to speak with him directly. He was only uncomfortable with it when a woman wanted to be his lover.

They must have escaped or have been enslaved, thought Grady as he resumed hunting down Neithan.

Soon it started to snow, much to the wolf's displeasure. He suddenly saw a flickering fire in a nearby cave and went to investigate.

He caught Neithan's scent and rushed forward. He shifted into a human and yelled, "Neithan!"

The adventurer emerged from the cave. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Looking for you! Alyss is worried."

Neithan scowled. "She's always worried about me."

"Because she cares. Come on, Neithan, you need to come back."

He sighed and followed Grady back to camp. Other than trudging through the snow that had become as high as the ankle, it was an uneventful trip.

Chapter 5- Plan of Action

The lords gathered in the main tent that night to discuss what to do.

"We should seek the help of the elves," said one man. "Their feasts are grand enough to fill the bellies of every man, woman and child in our camp."

"The elves are not secured allies," Grady pointed out. "They could turn on us easily if a single man made a simple mistake."

The man grumbled.

"What of the dwarves?" said Alyss. "Grady's grandfather became both good friends and allies with the dwarven king, Ortix. Ortix's grandson took his place only a few years ago, and he has as much knowledge of running a kingdom as Grady does. And it's been centuries since the last war between man and dwarf, and the dwarves have no reason to hold a grudge against us for it. The mistakes in that war were forgiven by both sides."

They were all silent for a moment, then Allen said, "Kullin is a dwarf in our camp, and he is distantly related to Oritx's grandson by blood. If he were to speak with the guards, and then the king, he would be able to get us the finest guestrooms in the dwarven kingdom!"

Everyone agreed with him, but Grady frowned. "But does the king Firrin even know of his relations with Kullin? If he does not, then that plan will fail."

"You all are forgetting a major part here," Neithan said. "Grady is a king, and if King Firrin is a noble ma- er, noble dwarf, then he will listen to Grady's account of what has transpired in our kingdom and will give us a place to stay. Furthermore, he should remember the strong friendship between his and Grady's grandfathers."

They all nodded, agreeing.

"Is it settled, then?" Alyss asked. "We will head towards Mahlorn, home of the dwarves?"

"Aye," said the men.

Grady nodded, then took out parchment, a inkpot and a quill. He dipped the quill into the inkpot and started to write a letter, informing Firrin of their forecoming arrival.

The camp was soon in a hustle of packing and preparing the next morning. They only had 15 horses that had been saved from the battle. Grady packed his armor and weapons, then bundled himself in a royal fur coat that a tailor in the camp had made for him. He tied his boots tight and fastened his sword belt to his body.

Neithan entered the tent a little while later. "We're ready," he said. Grady gave him a nod and pulled his pack onto his back.

"Are you sure you're recovered enough, my king?" Neithan asked. "The magicka you were hit with could have later effects on you."

"I'll be fine, Neithan. No one needs to worry about me."

"Alright then..." Neithan murmured, uncertainty wavering in his voice. He turned and both men walked from the tent.

A caravan of wagons and horses were patiently for Grady. All women who were with child were on a strong horse. The others were guards, to make sure that the people were safe.

Grady preferred to walk. He felt energized by the excitement of traveling to the dwarves. He overheard Neithan arguing with Alyss. He wanted her to ride a horse as well, but Alyss, being stubborn, refused. A minute into the argument, Grady heard a loud slap. Neithan walked over, looking annoyed and sullen. A bright pink hand mark was on the side of his face, and Grady smirked at the sight of Neithan being so easily defeated by Alyss.

They started moving, everyone trudging through the snow. A guard had offered to swap places with Grady, allowing the king to ride whenever he became tired, and Grady accepted gladly.

Their progress was slow but steady. Grady unrolled his map and looked at it. Mahlorn wasn't too far. His main worry was that a child would be born before they could reach the safety of the dwarven halls. Even if they hadn't started this journey, they still wouldn't have had the proper supplies for one the women to safely give birth to their children.

Luckily, they made good progress that day. They started a large fire and they all gathered around. They lifted each other's spirits by telling tales and jokes. Grady and Kullin even acted out a famous battle that occurred during the war between the dwarf king Ortix and Grady's grandfather, Rombis, before they became close friends. Grady wove the tale as their swords clanged, and the youngsters were delighted.

Soon they departed to sleep, and the night was peaceful.

They all woke at dawn. The children were unhappy at being woken, but they got up and stuck by their parents' sides.

They traveled for several days. They were all uneventful, until a pack of wild dogs stole food during the night. The men were grumpy and in terribly bad moods, their food gone. What remained was given to the women and children first, and the men ate what was left.

They only traveled faster. At some points, they were rushing, desperate to get to Mahlorn. The supplies were dwindling down quickly.

As they came to the top of a hill, Grady spotted the great mountain. Mahlorn.

"I see it!" he hollered. The mountain was huge, and several miles away. But it was possible to arrive before nighttime. Their hopes rose again and they hurried.

Grady swapped places with the guard and sent Neithan ahead on a horse to inform the dwarves at the gates that their camp would soon be there.

They rushed, then arrived at the gates of Mahlorn as a trumpet blasted.

Chapter 6- Mahlorn

Grady slid off the horse and walked up to one of the guardsmen. "Grady, son of Gratin, king of Aragoth," he said, bowing swiftly. "I must speak with your king. I sent a letter to him."

"Aye," said the dwarf, and he made a welcoming gesture. Grady quickly returned it and they passed through the gates.

Two dwarves appeared. "We have been told to escort you to our king's study," said one. They both did the welcoming gesture, same as the guardsman. Grady repeated it and had his friends follow.

The dwarves led them through the vast mountain city. Grady was amazed by the architecture. He had been here once, but only when he was a little boy accompanying his father and grandfather on a business trip.

The inside of the mountain seemed to have been dug out completely, and replaced inside with a city. Grady memorized as many details as he could. Neithan seemed unimpressed, and Grady rolled his eyes.

Taking a shortcut, they were soon entering the dwarf king's study. Firrin sat at his desk, going through papers.

The king had black, wavy hair that reached past a little past his shoulder blades and was adorned with braids. His beard was pulled into a short braid. The dwarf was handsome, and his eyes were a stormy grey. His shirt was a clean royal tunic, with its long sleeves rolled up to a little above his elbows. His quill scribbled furiously on the parchment, not noticing Grady.

Grady cleared his throat and Firrin looked up. He dropped his quill and stood, stepping out from behind his desk. "Ah, you've arrived," he said with a smile. He bowed to Grady, who bowed back. They both made a gesture and muttered something in Durzul, the native language of the dwarves.

"It is good to see you," Grady said with a smile.

Firrin nodded. "The same to you."

They quickly began a conversation. Grady explained their situation, Firrin listening intently.

"I see," he said, when Grady finished. "And what exactly is this Starstone?"

"Only the most valuable stone in the world!" Neithan exclaimed. Grady gave Neithan a look as Firrin frowned.

"It's very valuable," said Grady, explaining. "It's worth more than you'd believe. It's pure diamond, in the rough shape of a star. There are drops of shimmering gold inside. It also has magical properties."

Firrin nodded. "And what do you need from me?"

"Food and a place for our people to stay. In return, we will be at your service." Firrin looked down at the floor, thinking, then asked, "why should I allow you to stay?"

"Come on, Firrin," Grady pleaded. "Ortix and Rombis were the closest of friends, and there was a strong bond between dwarves and men. Please."

Firrin nodded slowly. "Very well. You may stay. As long as you do not cause any trouble." Grady nodded quickly, and he sent Alyss, Grady and Astra to inform the group. Firrin and Grady sat down to talk. Firrin told Grady of the kingdom, of its warriors and what it accomplished since he had taken the throne. Grady spoke about what his kingdom had been like before it was taken. Then he asked, out of curiosity, "Do you have any heirs?"

Firrin became visibly tense. After a moment, he answered. "If you are asking if I have any children of my own, then no, I do not."

"But is there someone next in Ortix's line?"

"My younger sister bore two sons before her death," he said, seeming uncomfortable. "And you?"

"Heirs? No, no children and no love interest."

Firrin nodded.

"And what of your nephews?"

Firrin tensed again, then forced himself to relax. "One is of 5 years, and the other is still a babe. My sister died in childbirth, and the older one... he was born on a battlefield." Grady looked down, "I am sorry about your sister."

Firrin sighed. "I miss her dearly."

Wanting to change the subject, Grady asked, "Is there a place where we can train?"

"There is a cavern if you want to practice in private," he said, "but there is an open training field." He gave Grady directions to both places, and Grady thanked him. He walked to his people to check on them. He glanced out the window, the sun setting in the distance. It would soon be night.

He found them in the dining hall, stuffing themselves with food. He laughed to himself; they were tearing through the meat.

He joined them, sitting with his friends and eating everything that he could until he was full. Feeling full and exhausted, he nearly fell asleep.

Before he could, a dwarf appeared. He had been told to show Grady where he could sleep. Tired, Grady followed him, also looking around at the halls.

The floor of the palace was made of smooth marble. The walls and ceiling were tunnel shaped, and the window were oval-shaped. Grady's boots made small thuds as he walked on the marble.

He managed to make it to the bedroom before collapsing on the bed, exhausted.

The room was large, with a king-sized bed and expensive animal furs as covers. The floor and walls were marble, and a walk-in closet was next to the bathroom. A dresser was on the left side of the room, along with a full-length mirror.

He didn't bother to change; he let himself fall asleep.

When he woke, it was in the middle of the night. He mumbled, sitting up and yawning. He looked out the window; it was dark outside. Midnight.

Glancing at his sword, he got out of bed and tied on his sword belt. He tried to remember Firrin's directions to the cavern as he wandered the halls.

He came upon it by chance, then stepped inside.

He immediately knew that it had once been a cave cavern. It had been renovated for a private training chamber. The stone floor had been leveled and there were no holes. Wood and straw targets were set up, for both archery and swords. It was small, since it was for dwarves, but it was also big enough for Grady. Two columns were on either side of the door on the inside of the room. There were also columns in each corner of the cavern, holding the stone ceiling up. Lanterns were attached to the columns, candles inside glass boxes with iron frames.

He drew his sword slowly. He got into a fighting position, then lunged at one of the targets. He stabbed it, then slashed horizontally. He growled, enjoying the sound of metal-on-wood echoing throughout the cavern. He grunted, his wrist sore.

He swung his sword, growling. His brown hair was whipped back by wind as he turned and slashed.

When he finished, the straw and wood target was in shreds. Feeling satisfied, he turned, sheathing his sword.

Then he froze.

Two little faces peeked out at him from the columns at the door. One was much shorter than the other. The taller one was as tall as Grady's knee, and the other was up to his boot.

They quickly hid again, and he frowned. He moved closer to see them, slowly, to not startle them. They stepped back fearfully, and he bent on one knee. They watched him carefully, and from their height, he knew they were dwarflings. "I'm Grady," he said with a smile. "I won't hurt you... What are your names?"

They hesitated, then stepped into the light. The taller one had golden locks of hair, two braids framing his face. His eyes were a deep sapphire blue. Grady smiled at him, sitting cross-legged. The second one stepped forward and wobbled. It looked as if he were new to walking. He took another step, then fell forward. Grady quickly caught him and stood him up again. He had dark brown curls, only reaching his shoulders. His nose was tiny, with freckles dotted across the bridge of it. His brown eyes sparkled. He held onto the king's arms to stay standing. They both wore pajamas brown pajamas. The collars of their shirts, the cuffs of their sleeves, and the bottom of their pants were a lighter brown with dwarven rune letters.

"Mwilldwee," he said, giving Grady a sparkling smile. Grady laughed lightly.

"He means *Mildri," the blonde said quickly. "And I'm *Rildri." Grady smiled more. They were speaking in Durzul, the native language of the dwarves. Grady racked his brain to figure out what they were saying. Mildri and Rildri. I recognize their names. "Dwagon!" Mildri suddenly yelled. "Dwagon!"

"He says that a lot," Rildri said, as Mildri crawled into Grady's lap. "He loves dragons." Grady wanted to reply in their language, but he was already struggling to understand. His Durzul vocabulary was limited. He chuckled and stood, holding the baby dwarf in his arms.

*Mildri: pronounced Mill-dree

*Rildri: pronounced Rill-dree

allowed Rildri to crawl into his lap. They were silent as the two dwarflings snuggled against Grady.

The young king let his mind focus on their names. Rildri was dwarfish for 'River's passing,' 'Sun's rays' and 'Radiant Warrior.' It had been the name of a famous warrior, centuries ago, who had used the sun's rays to defeat an army.

Then there was Mildri. The name meant 'gentle soul,' and 'son of the brook.' Mildri had been the younger brother of Rildri, and he was a caretaker of animals. He lived peacefully in a cottage by a brook, with all his animals. He was just down the road from his parents; he was close with his mother.

After Rildri defeated the army, he wanted more power. He began to force people to swear fealty to him, using his gift. Soon he became set on one goal: become the most powerful being in Aragoth. After two years of working towards it, he was so close. People trembled at the sight of him, they feared his powers. But Rildri realized that he had forgotten about his little brother, and set out to go to his home.

Chapter 7- The Legends

Mildri was making breakfast when Rildri strode in. Seeing his brother, Mildri nearly dropped his plate. "R-Rills?" he stuttered. Rildri only flickered his golden hair back. Mildri quickly put his plate down and hugged Rildri tightly, burying his face in his brother's shoulder.

Rildri frowned. Mildri was always loving and affectionate; it was his nature. But Rildri had thought that his little brother would have outgrown it.

"I need you to do something for me," he said. Mildri stepped away and smiled at him, "what do you need?"

"I need you to swear fealty to me."

Mildri frowned. "W... What? Why? You're my brother, you know I'd do anything for you!"

"You need to swear it, Mills," Rildri said, advancing closer. "I need to trust that you'll obey me when I need you to serve me." Mildri swallowed hard and stepped back. "SERVE- obey- what!?"

"I can easily kill you if you refuse," Rildri growled in a low and chilling voice. His inches of extra height made him tower over Mildri, who had always been small for his age.

Mildri glared. "No."

Rildri hissed, a ball of yellow glowing magic forming in his palm. He threw it at Mildri, whose eyes widened as he was knocked back several feet. He fell backwards, hitting his head on the floor, his bangs in his eyes. He landed awkwardly on his arm. A snap and a surge of pain told him it was broken.

Rildri quickly pinned him down, growling. "Swear!"

"N-Never!" Mildri snapped, a throbbing pain at the back of his head and in his arm. He could see the madness in his brother's eyes; the strong desire for power.

"Rills, please," he said gently, using the voice he used for soothing injured or frightened animals. "You're not thinking straight... You're turning yourself into something you're not."

"NO I'M NOT!" Rildri roared, enraged. A lion-like growl emitted from his throat. He pulled a knife from his belt, and Mildri fought to remain calm. His heart hammered in his chest.

"Rildri, please."

Rildri's eyes softened for a moment. Mildri thought that he got through to him.

Suddenly a magic glow surrounded the knife as Rildri stabbed it into Mildri's belly.

The young dwarf screamed. He struggled beneath Rildri, tears springing to his eyes. He gasped for breath, struggling, feeling the magicka spread through his body to inflict more pain. Rildri got up and went to the door, leaving his brother in pain.

"P-Please..." Mildri whispered, before letting out a sob. The elder dwarf didn't look back as animals gathered around Mildri.

Mildri would have bled to death if a she-wolf, Shakira, hadn't run to get the dwarf's mother.

After his recovery, Mildri had a strong hatred for his brother. His thirst for revenge caused him to abandon his gentle nature, and he learned to fight. For three years, he was taught by a swordsman in the nearby village. He learned archery, swordsmanship, and even defensive spells that could counteract Rildri's magic, turning all spells against the caster. Before Rildri attacked him, he knew only healing spells for animals and occasionally his younger cousins.

He also learned other spells. He could protect himself with a cloak of fire, burning anyone who got too close. He learned a magical ward to deflect spells. He could call upon a nearby animal to come to his aid.

When he was ready, he set off towards Rildri's palace.

Mildri's hood concealed his face as he slipped in through a window. He quickly hid as two guards passed. Moonlight streamed into the halls through the windows.

He ran down the hall, his footsteps silent. He heard guards approaching, and quickly hid in a room.

When they passed, he looked behind him. He couldn't believe his luck- he was in Rildri's bedroom, and he was fast asleep.

Mildri quickly drew his bow and nocked an arrow, pulling the string back. He aimed, then released.

Suddenly Rildri's hand shot up and caught the arrow. He opened his eyes and smirked. "I knew you'd come eventually."

Mildri growled. "Mother and Father disowned you. They say you're a disgrace to the family."

Rildri shrugged. "Says the dwarfling."

Mildri hissed and lunged at his brother. Rildri quickly rolled off the bed and summoned his sword with magicka. The younger dwarf drew his own, and their blades clashed. Rildri looked a little alarmed at Mildri's skill level with a blade.

He knocked the sword out of Mildri's hands. The brunette dwarf drew two large twin daggers. They continued to fight, brother against brother. Rildri tried to knock Mildri off balance with a spell, but it was quickly counteracted.

Rildri looked more alarmed at Mildri knowing magic. Mildri used the distraction and thrusted a dagger into Rildri.

Rildri cried out. Mildri twisted the dagger, then pulled it out. Rildri collapsed, blood pouring from his wound.

Mildri watched as the life drained from his brother. He had no regrets, he felt no guilt. Rildri was his kin, but he had been corrupted with evil.

The dwarf fired an arrow, ending other's suffering. He escaped out the window, never wanting to take a life again.

Chapter 8- History

Grady sighed heavily, realizing that the two dwarflings in his arms had fallen asleep. He didn't know where they were supposed to sleep or who took care of them. Sighing, he laid back on the floor and let himself fall asleep.

Hours later, he was woken by Alyss and Astra. He grunted as he sat up.

"We'd like an explanation as to why you're on the floor."

"The-" he started, then frowned. "There were two dwarflings..."

"My nephews." Grady was startled by Firrin's voice. "Rildri told me that they met you."

Grady nodded, then stood, adjusting his tunic. "They reminded me of-"

"The legends Mildri and Rildri? I know. It's a little unnerving." Firrin sighed. "It makes me worried about Rildri."

"That he might have the same fate?"

Alyss and Astra now had left them alone to talk. Firrin nodded, "and that Mildri would have to undergo killing his own blood. He looks up to his brother, he's like Rildri's shadow. A living shadow, always following him everywhere, even though he isn't capable of walking far without falling."

"I'd be interested in hearing about that."

Firrin smiled a little, then sighed heavily. "You know of the battle my people fought, before the end of my grandfather's rule, correct?"

Grady nodded.

"Us against the Valan. They attacked us without being provoked. We were scrambling to defend the mountain, and my sister, Fira, was with child. The wing of the palace, where my sister, 3 midwives and 2 guards were, wasn't safe anymore. Valan soldiers were already in the wing, and they had to leave. Crossing a battle field, behind our walls, was the only way for them to get to a safe sanctuary. But... My sister went into labor. They didn't get to the sanctuary in time, and... Rildri was born."

Grady was quiet. "And... Mildri?"

"Premature, and 17 months old... It killed her, and he only just managed to survive. Rildri was 5 at the time. Everyone believed he would die, and Rildri wasn't allowed to see him... And for a good reason. If he made a strong connection with his newborn brother, it would crush him if Mildri didn't survive."

Grady nodded. He could understand it.

"I... Don't see Mildri much..."

Grady frowned. "Why not?"

"He... He looks almost identical to my sister and brother... It... It pains me... Dark brown curls and freckles, it just..."

"And Rildri?"

"He's just like his father... Blue eyes, blonde locks."

"Seems like you're not giving many details." Firrin sighed. "I'm overprotective, I guess," he murmured.

"Understandable. And what is their father like?"

Firrin immediately scowled, and Grady feared that he was asking too many questions.

"Their father is a pitiful coward of a dwarf! He is from Clan Dugulden. Dulgulden has been our rival since the first age. They are ruthless killers, who care for none outside their own clan. Vildri was the son of a lord when he came as a ambassador from across the sea. He caught the eye of Fira, and... He just used her." Grady leaned closer.

Firrin sighed heavily. "I knew she was trying to keep her pregnancy a secret. But I overheard her talking about it to one of her trusted handmaidens. I would have killed him myself if it weren't for his diplomatic immunity!"

Grady frowned as Firrin growled angrily. The dwarf king took a breath to calm himself.

"Rildri was born on a battle field, and out of wedlock. And the coward couldn't even stay to see his child. Fira never would never tell anyone about who was the father of her son."

"Then the boys have different fathers?"

Firrin shook his head. "4 years after Rildri's birth, Vildri returned with 5 other dwarves again as an ambassador. Fira only fell in love with him again, and she begged to go with him to Dugulden when he had to return, but he was hesitant. He knew of Rildri, but I made sure he didn't get to see him." Firrin sighed. "He didn't deserve to see his son. Rildri was a bright and delightful child, Vildri would only take that away. Me and my brother, Firn, were very protective uncles. There was always an excuse for us to be watching Rildri, playing with him, showing him how to write in dwarf runes. We had a book full of excuses."

Grady smiled. "That's overprotection to the extreme."

Firrin chuckled, then sighed. "They were staying with us for 4 months. But... Vildri ended up meeting his son anyway."

Little Rildri ran down the hall, giggling. His uncles were chasing him, and he had managed to escape them.

He hid in a room as he heard their heavy footfalls. He giggled, peeking out through the door, not realizing what room he was in.

"Rildri, come here."

He turned at the sound of his grandfather's voice. He smiled and ran over. "Grandpa!"

The dwarf king, Arrin, chuckled and lifted his grandson on his lap. They were in a meeting with the Dulgulden, but he adored having the boy with him.

Vildri frowned as he watched the child. He had the same hair and eyes...

"The clans need to end the dispute. Dwarves are dying pointlessly whenever Dulgulden or Iglishmul soldiers clash. It must stop," Arrin said with a firm voice. Rildri was sucking his fingers, his other hand tangled in his grandfather's beard.

Vildri watched the boy, then answered. "Yes, there-"

The door suddenly opened. "Sorry for disturbing you, father-" Firrin said, as the two princes bowed.

"-but we need our dear little nephew," Firn finished. Arrin frowned, but lifted the boy from his lap.

Firrin smiled as he took Rildri in his arms. The dwarfling whined. "But Grandpa!"

"Come on, Rildri, we can finish our game," Firn said with a smile. "Then we can do whatever you want." The boy pouted, but snuggled against his uncle's chest.

The two princes chuckled and left the room. Moments later, Vildri excused himself and followed.

Firrin put his nephew down. "Count tuh ten!" Rildri exclaimed, before turning and racing down the hall. The two princes smiled, then faced the opposite way and started to count.

Vildri took the opportunity and hurried after the child.

Rildri looked behind him and stopped, then smiled brightly. "Hi!"

The elder dwarf frowned, crouching to see the child. "What is your name?"

"R... Rildri."
"Your mother's name?"
"Fwira." Vildri tensed. "Do you know your father's name?" he asked, caution in his voice.

"Mama says my Papa's name is V...Vildri. But I'm not allowed to say, so don't tell anyone!"

"I won't... Have you ever met your fath-"

"Get away from him!"

Vildri looked behind him. Firn and Firrin looked as if they were ready to kill him.

"I'm not hurting him," he said innocently. Firrin hissed and held a knife to Vildri's neck, while Firn picked up the boy to check him for any marks.

"He's alright," he said, glaring at Vildri. The blonde dwarf smirked at him. "I told you I didn't hurt my son."

The two princes gaped. "How..."

"Unca?" Rildri interrupted, holding his arms out to Firrin. The dwarf picked up his nephew and held him protectively. "Leave," he growled. Vildri rolled his eyes, then walked back to the meeting.

He would get his son.

Chapter 9- Bond

Grady looked down at the floor as Firrin finished speaking.

"What did Vildri do?" he asked.

"Nothing, actually. He made several attempts to see Rildri, but we were even more overprotective. When Mildri came, and Fira died, it... I died on the inside. I never saw him, I never had the desire to. I only know what he looks like from what servants tell me."

"Why not see him? He's your nephew, he'll love you endlessly if you let him."

Firrin frowned, thinking about it. "I know, but..."

"Just accept him, talk to him. Explain that you're his uncle. You should go do it now." Grady gave him a look. The dwarf king sighed and stood. Grady smiled as Firrin left.

Mildri splashed his brother with water, giggling. Rildri splashed him back. They both sat in the large tub. The warm water reached Mildri's shoulders, and it reached Rildri's elbows.

"Boys," said Curin warningly. "You're getting water all over the floor."

The two dwarflings giggled. "C'mon, Mildri," Curin said. He picked up the tiny dwarfling and set him on the side of the tub. He put a dollop of shampoo on his palm and gently rubbed it into Mildri's brown hair. The baby dwarf swung his feet in the water.

"Dwagon?" he asked. Curin smiled. "No dragons in the tub, Mildri." The child pouted, then splashed Rildri with his foot. "Water dwagon!" he exclaimed. Curin couldn't help but laugh.

Rinsing the shampoo from the boy's hair, he took them both out of the tub and dried them with warm towels. Rildri wore a tan-colored tunic with brown trousers. Mildri wore a blue tunic and green leggings.

Curin was brushing out Mildri's curls when the door opened. "Curin?"

The dwarf turned, then smiled. "Firrin! Need something?"

"I need to talk to Mildri." Curin frowned, then turned and picked up the baby dwarf. He gingerly handed him to Firrin. Firrin smiled at him, then left.

Mildri closed his eyes, sucking his fingers. Firrin held him close, though he felt awkward. This dwarfling probably had no idea that he was being held by his uncle.

"Hi," Mildri murmured, his fingers still in his mouth. Firrin smiled, running his fingers through his little nephew's curls. Mildri cuddled against the king's chest, mumbling.

"I'm your uncle," Firrin said, not knowing what else to say.

Mildri looked up at him. "You are?"

Firrin nodded and sat in a chair. Mildri curled up in the king's lap, smiling. "And Rwilldwee's unca too?"

Firrin nodded again. "Your mother was my sister, and that makes the both of you my nephews, and my heirs."

"Heirs?" Mildri asked, looking confused. Firrin smiled and stood, going to the window. "Can you see outside?" He asked, holding the child up.

Mildri nodded, looking out at the mountain city.

"One day, Rildri will rule this entire mountain. He is my heir, so when I step down from the throne, or am killed, your brother will have to take my place. If something happens to both of us... Then you will have to be king."

"So Rwildwee's gon' be a king?"

Firrin nodded with a smile, picking up his nephew and cradling him. "And you'll be there to help him," he said, thinking of how Firn had been there for him before his death.

Mildri played with one of Firrin's braids. "Yay," he said, absentmindedly, occupied with the braid. The king smiled and went to the door.

It opened before Firrin could. "Unca!" Rildri exclaimed, standing in the hall.

Firrin bent down and picked him up with his other arm. "Where is Curin?"

"He had to leave, and he said to find you." The little prince looked up at his uncle with his bright blue eyes.

Firrin didn't see Vildri in his heir. Other than the physical features, Rildri was the opposite of his father. He loved life and every day was like an adventure.

A low growl came from Mildri's belly. The two dwarflings giggled. "Hungwy," Mildri said. Firrin smiled and walked down to the dining hall.

Chapter 10- Kalith

"So what kind of problems do you face as king?" Grady asked. He and Firrin were walking in the hall. Mildri and Rildri were down in the study with Curin. Rildri was having lessons, while the younger was playing with toys on the floor. The autumn had turned to winter.

Firrin sighed. "Usually poverty in the streets, but also constant betrothal requests from the Dulgulden clan. They have a strong desire for me and their princess, Glayden, to wed. I have no interest in her."

Grady smirked. "You sure about that?" he asked, in a teasing voice. Firrin nodded. "Absolutely sure. All the Dulgulden women are spoiled and they do not even know how to throw an axe! It's shameful in our clan for a dwarf woman to not know how to defense herself with a weapon."

Grady nodded. "That's understandable. Don't most dwarves stay within their own clans?"

"Aye, but sometimes dwarven princes and princesses have to wed someone outside of their clan. Usually to unite or become allies. I've heard of them making excuses to step out of the marriage, which is probably what I would do."

Grady laughed. "As would I."

They talked some more about varied subjects before a courier ran up to them. "My lords!" he exclaimed, bowing swiftly. His face was red was running. He took a moment to catch his breath, then spoke.

"Kalith have been spotted, and they are approaching swiftly. The guardsmen at the gates are requesting your permission to attack if necessary."

Grady and Firrin both became tense. "They have complete permission," Firrin growled.

The courier nodded, then began to ran back.

Firrin began walking quickly to his study. "Kalith!?" Grady exclaimed, shaken at the thought.

"Aye. Get your men together."

Neithan, Alyss and Astra hurried towards the gates. "What's going on?" Astra asked. "All we were told was that we needed to get geared up and meet Grady down here."

"Kalith," was all that the dwarf guards had to say.

Neithan shifted in his armor, ruffled. He laid a hand on the golden pommel of his sword. Alyss frowned and shifted closer to him.

Grady and Firrin came running. "Status?" Firrin asked a guard, out of breath.

"They're... Just standing there," said the guard, a confused expression on his face. "Not moving."

Grady and Firrin hurried over to the edge of the wall. Sure enough, 5 rows of 13 Kalith were standing there. Watching the mountain.

Grady quickly did the math. "There's 63 Kalith there," he muttered. "There could be more coming."

"What do we do? They're not showing any signs of an attack."

Firrin looked concerned. "Why wouldn't they attack?" he murmured, then looked to Grady.

The human king was tense, like a cat ready to pounce. "I don't trust them one bit."

"No one here does," Firri said with a sigh. "We can dispatch a few guards with a horn to see what they want. If there is any sign of trouble, they blow the horn and retreat."

"It's risky, but possible. Who do you think should go?" Grady asked. Firrin frowned. Astra stepped forward, "I'll go."

"No," Grady said sharply. Astra gave him an annoyed look. "I'll be fine." She stretched her wings, taking a horn from a guard. "Astra!" Grady exclaimed as she took off.

Grady scowled as Firrin smirked.

"Shut up," Grady muttered, eyes trained on Astra.

Several minutes passed until the girl flew back. "They said that their master demands control of the mountain," she said. Firrin scowled. "Absolutely not!" He hissed.

Astra frowned. "You actually might want to think about your answer," she said. Firrin narrowed his grey eyes, but Astra ignored it. "They know about your nephews, Firrin. The threat wasn't an empty one; they'll take your boys, then the mountain."

Firrin clenched his hands tightly. Grady could sense the dwarf's anger. "They are not taking my heirs, or the mountain. I won't let my people become homeless!"

"They won't," Grady said with a firm voice. "We can make a plan for this. Mildri and Rildri will be sent away to be hidden and protected. We'll have the civilians evacuated, and we'll set up barriers. We lost one kingdom, we won't lose another." His words were confident. He turned to Astra. "How many days do we have until they attack?"

"5 days, no more."

"We can't have a thousand people evacuated in just 5 days!" Alyss cried. "And where will they go?"

"They can stay at the Silverdust Caves," Firrin said. "They're a deep network of tunnels, with fruitful veins of silver. Most tunnels are stable, and the people will be safe."

"But what of your nephews?"

"They will also go to the caves, with several guards."

"Let's go back to the palace and make arrangements. Guards can inform the civilians so that they'll get out in time," Grady said.

Chapter 11-
It took only 3 days for everyone to be out of Mahlorn. Over that time, Grady spent time with Rildri and Mildri, and they even started calling him 'Uncle Grady'. While it surprised Grady greatly, it was more entertainment for the others as they watched the little dwarflings cling to their new uncle.

There was a trail of dwarves on ponies and in carriages as they traveled towards the mines. Firrin was with Rildri and Mildri, spending a few more precious moments with his nephews.

Firrin placed Rildri in the saddle of a pony. Rildri frowned as his uncle put Mildri in front of him. "Unca?"

"Hush, Rildri," Firrin said softly. It pained him greatly to be sending them away.

"Unca!" Rildri exclaimed, becoming upset. Firrin ignored him, turning to a guard. "Make sure they get to the caves safely," he said sternly. The guard nodded quickly.

"Unca!" Rildri wailed, bursting into tears. Mildri watched him, then soon started to cry as well.

"Rildri," Firrin said, his voice gentle. "You have to be brave. You're a lion, right? Lions don't cry." Rildri sniffed, wiping his nose with his sleeve. Firrin smiled and wiped the tears away. "You have to go away for a while, with the other dwarves. You need to be safe. A group of guards will protect you... I love you both, so much." He kissed both their foreheads. Both dwarflings tried to cling to him, but he pried their little hands off his tunic. Grady watched, a familiar memory of something similar flashing in his mind. Firrin signaled to the guard, who took the pony's reins and led it to join the trail. The king watched until they were out of sight.

Grady gave him a reassuring smile when he walked over. The dwarf sighed. "How many days left?"

"2 days," Grady said. He frowned as Firrin yawned. "Have you slept at all?" he asked.

"I had a 20 minute nap," Firrin said. "I'm fine."

Grady scoffed. "You look like you could faint any moment. Go sleep, you need it." Firrin opened his mouth to protest, but Grady gave him a stern look. The dwarf scowled, then went to his tent.

Neithan walked over. "All soldiers are ready to fight at a moment's notice. A quarter of the dwarves have reached the mines safely."

Grady sighed. "Good."

Neithan frowned. "Are you alright?"

"Just a little tired. Didn't get a good night's sleep." Grady looked down at the map. "Have someone on watch, we can't afford any surprises from Dorandal." Neithan nodded and left the tent as Grady sifted through a pile of books.

The Creation of Aragoth
Godlings: Fact or Faerie-tale?
Recorded Faerie Sightings
History of the Dwarven Clans, Volume II
Enchanted Weapons and their Magical Properties
Dragons: Just Legends?
Aragoth's Bravest War Heroes

He picked up the book about dragons. Some believed that dragons had only gone extinct; others believed that they were just stories for children. It didn't really matter which was true to Grady.

He sat in a chair and began to read, and eventually, fell asleep. It was the next morning that he was woken up by Neithan, who had a new report. "All dwarves are accounted for at the caves," he said. Grady grunted as he sat up in the chair. "Good. Any reports of the Kalith?"

"None so far. The men are getting restless and even a little paranoid. Some are doubting that you can lead them; you've already lost your own kingdom."

"Those who judge others will be judged themselves," Grady muttered. He turned to Neithan. "Have the men practice. Set up targets, make sure they're in fighting shape. I'm putting you in charge of them." Neithan nodded and went to the door of the tent.

"And Neithan?"

The adventurer turned. "Yes sir?"

"Don't bother arguing with Alyss, you can't beat her." Neithan grinned. "We'll see about that, my king," he said, before leaving. Grady rolled his eyes playfully and resumed his book.

Alyss came in a few moments later, a nervous expression on her face. "Grady?"

He looked up and stood. "Yes?"

"What if we don't win this? Where will we have to go next? Dorandal's going to control all of Aragoth soon enough," she said, her voice worried.

Grady sighed. "I don't know, really. Unless we can develop a stable alliance with the elves, we might just have to go back to hiding in the mountains."

Alyss groaned and leaned against him. "I thought we'd be safe here," she said with a sigh. He smiled a little and hugged her tightly. They had a close brother-sister bond.

"We'll think of something," he promised. "It'll be hard, but we will." Alyss smiled at him.

Suddenly there was a loud horn being blown. "TO ARMS!" someone yelled. Grady instantly reacted by grabbing his sword off the table and bolting out of the tent. Alyss followed.

"What's going on?" they asked a guard.

"Kalith," said the guard worriedly. "They're approaching with an army! It's definitely not just a message!"

Grady retrieved his armor from his tent and hurried to Firrin's. The dwarf king was asleep, his expression peaceful.

"Firrin!" Grady hissed, shaking the dwarf to wake him. "Get up! An army of Kalith are approaching." Firrin blinked sleepily. Grady quickly got some water to wake him up. "All the dwarves have arrived at the caves, and your nephews are safe. You need to hurry up." Firrin mumbled something in Durzul. Grady hurried out of the tent and over to the edge of the camp.

He groaned. Hundreds of Kalith were marching towards them.

They had dug a deep trench around their camp. Grady leaned out over it, then stepped back. They had today and tomorrow until they were supposed to attack!

"They've probably seen our soldiers," Neithan said as he came up behind Grady. "They already know our answer."

Grady sighed. "Perhaps."

"We're ready for them, though," Neithan said, his voice determined. "We can protect the mountain."

"I can only hope so, Neithan."

They both turned as the dwarf and human soldiers raced to get into line. Astra, Alyss and Firrin were running towards them. "How close are they?" Alyss asked, out of breath.

"A mile away," Grady replied. Neithan stepped forward, "We should go out to meet them. We can't wait for them to get to our camp."

Grady glanced at him. "You're right. Organize them into lines, and we'll meet them."

Soon, they were ready. Grady, Firrin, Neithan, Astra and Alyss sat on grand white stallions, all their swords at the ready.

The two armies were 50 feet away from each other. The ground was unleveled with small hills. The grass was a beautiful spring green. Small boulders were scattered around the field, with no trees.

The men and dwarves waited for a signal from the two kings. Suddenly two boulders were flung at them, and the men raced out of the way as they smashed into the ground.

Grady turned in the saddle and motioned to archer on the hills with his sword. Hundreds of flaming arrows were suddenly launched towards the Kalith. Grady let out a war cry, and Firrin shouted a dwarven cry. Both armies surged forwards, and they soon met.

Grady was instantly in battle mode. He raised his sword and clashed with a Kale.

"GRADY! KALE ON YOUR SIX!" Neithan yelled. Grady turned and blocked an attack from a Kale. He gave Neithan a grateful look, then quickly resumed fighting.

Grady gasped as a knife was jabbed into his thigh. He killed the Kale and staggered towards a boulder. Dropping to the ground, he took his dagger and cut a flap in his trousers. He cringed at the deep stab wound, then mutter words in another language. He felt the magic from his blessing mark rush through his bdoy and to the wound. A faint, bluish-white crescent moon formed over it and the pain was relieved. The magic would heal the wound.

He stood and hurried back to the battle. Drawing his sword, he lunged at a Kale.

The battle went on for three hours. Grady was starting to become tired. Then he heard a loud shout.

Turning quickly, Grady cried out. Firrin was on the ground, on his back. A small sword, bigger than a knife or dagger, was stabbed into the dwarf's chest. Grady sprinted over.

"Firrin!" he exclaimed. He pulled off the king's helmet and breastplate. Firrin's breathing was slow and ragged.

Grady raced to stop the bleeding. Firrin coughed up some blood, struggling to speak. "G-Grady..." he stuttered. "You'll be fine!" Grady snapped. "I won't let you die!"

"G-Grady, listen..."

Grady stopped and leaned closer. Firrin's voice was raspy and weak. "Take... Take care... of my boys... They trust... you... So do I." Grady smiled a little.

"In... In my study, there is a panel under the drawer... Open it... It c... contains a dwarven war bow... It was my brother's... Give it, to Mildri... On his 13t birthday... That is when dwarflings, begin training."

Grady nodded. "Anything else?" he asked softly.

Firrin sucked in a breath. "A sword and shield for Rildri... It's handle is made of gold. The... b-bow, and its arrows... are ebony..."

Grady nodded again, "I will, I promise."

"L-Look out-" Firrin warned. Grady looked up quickly; a shower of arrows was coming towards them.

Grady immediately reacted. He swung his leg over Firrin and held up his shield, protecting both of them. He cringed as the arrows rained down, clanging on his shield.

"You're going to be okay... I promise. We're in this together!" Grady exclaimed, tears in his eyes.

Firrin looked up at him. "W-What are we..." he said, his words slower. "We're... We're mortal men... We covet each other's gifts and possessions... All because... of our own greed and sin... We don't... understand the struggles of others... Because all we care about is ourselves and our wealth... Maybe the G-Gods punish us, for it... And we truly deserve it. Mortal men... Not just that... We're soldiers... We're b-born to die..."

Grady was silent, thinking about Firrin's words. What am I? What am I really? he thought. Firrin's eyes fluttered closed. Grady's jaw clenched.

Firrin passed on.

Chapter 12-
Moments passed. Rage swelled up inside the young king. He let out a roar of sorrow and anger. Filled with rage and the strong desire of revenge, he lunged at a Kale and killed it instantly.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he twirled and slashed. His blade was dripping with blood, and when it shattered, he tossed it to the side, drawing his bow and knocking an arrow. It took him only 10 minutes for him to use up al is arrows. He looked at his work.

50 Kalith were dead. 5 others were wounded.

He huffed, then shifted into a wolf. He had plenty of stamina left, from his adrenaline rush.

He attacked, eyes black. He bit and clawed, staining his teeth with dark blood. He took several gulps of air as his stamina drained, and he looked up. His vision was dull, and despite having the hearing of a wolf, it was hard to hear. Dozens of soldiers were running towards the mountain. All Grady could hear was "Kalith" and "Mahlorn".

He struggled to stay upright. A pain in his right foreleg was throbbing. And suddenly, he collapsed, his vision going black.

Hours later, Grady groaned. He slowly opened his eyes; he was still on the battle field. Dried blood was on grass and on the fur around a wound that he hadn't noticed. He slowly gained more energy, and he stood, a throbbing pain in his head.

Most of the creatures had been killed, and the rest surrendered or fled. He caught his breath and shifted into a human. He stretched and untied his helmet, pulling it off. The headache was relieved slightly.

A large group of dwarven warriors were gathered around Firrin's body. Grady sucked in a breath, hearing their cries of grief. One dwarf emerged from the huddle and went over to Grady. "Were his last words to you?" he asked. Grady nodded, tears coming to his eyes. "He wants me to take care of his nephews." The dwarf (his name was Orin) nodded. "It'll be for the best. Mahlorn is in ruins now, and we must rebuild. Once news of our victory reaches Fairhold, we might be attacked again. The princes need to be kept safe."

Grady nodded, then frowned. "W-What happened to the m-mountain? I... I blacked out for a few hours."

Orin sighed. "At least a quarter of the Kalith's army managed to get to the mountain. They must have been necromancers; they were destroying the halls and homes with explosions so quickly. They inflicted much damage. I haven't seen it myself, but that's what I've been told."

Grady sighed. "I need to talk to Neithan." He made sure to leave out the part about the weapons and began to walk towards their camp. He found the adventurer in the war tent.

"What are you doing?" Grady asked, curious. Neithan didn't look up as he answered. "Looking for somewhere to go. We can't stay; Dorandal is most likely hunting us down. We need shelter where we can be safe."

Grady nodded. He thought a moment; then it clicked. He knew where to go.

"Gather all the soldiers and dwarves. Have them meet me at Mahlorn's gates; tell them it's urgent." Neithan frowned. "Why?"

"Just do it!" Grady exclaimed, already running out of the tent. Neithan yelled a question after him, but he ignored it. He sprinted towards the looming mountain, then shifted into a wolf. He was able to run much faster in his beast form.

He sprinted past the gates. He sniffed the air, hoping to use scent to get to Firrin's study quickly. He soon picked up the faint scent of the late king and followed it. As he bolted down the halls, he had to leap over large chunks of marble that had been torn up from the floor. Jumping over the holes and dodging occasional marble that fell from the ceiling, Grady panted as he arrived at the study door.

He shifted into a human and turned the knob. To his surprise, it was locked.

Of course he would lock it! he thought to himself. Why wouldn't he?

He took a couple steps back and ran at the door. As he rammed his shoulder into it, the hinges gave way and the door fell. Grady stumbled as he regained his footing.

He looked around the study. Other than the door, the study was spotless.

Grady quickly went over to the desk. He felt the bottom of the drawer with his hands, looking for something that would let him get the weapons. Moments passed, and he finally found a small hole in the shape of a key.

He cursed under his breath. He needed a key.

He began to search quickly through the other drawers. Under papers, books, between files. He couldn't find anything that would show where a key was.

He cursed again. "Where is it?" he growled. He ran a hand through his hair, getting frustrated.

He leaned back against the bookcase, sighing. He turned to look at the books, then reached for one. The moment he pulled it, there was a loud click and something at the desk dropped.

Frowning, he turned and slowly approached the desk. On the floor was a box.

He took it, opening it and looking inside. The first thing he saw was a black dwarven war bow. It was made of ebony, with ancient carvings in it. It was heavier than a normal long bow. The arrows were also made from ebony, in a black leather quiver. The tips were sharp points that would easily pierce skin.

As he took them out of the box, he looked at the sword, then slid it out of its scabbard. The sword was a shining silver. It's handle was pure gold. Five diamonds were encrusted in the cross-guard. The grip was wrapped in smooth black leather strips, causing the sword to be unable to slip out of your hand.

He gazed at it, frowning. Suddenly an image flashed in the flat of the blade and Grady gasped, dropping the sword and scrambling away from it.

He took a breath and waited a few moments. Nothing had happened.

He frowned and gingerly took it. Nothing happened. He quickly slid it back into the scabbard and turned to the shield.

It was also pure gold. Several red rubies outlined it, with the Iglishmul crest on it. Grady picked it up.

"These are..." he murmured. He shook his head quickly and picked up the weapons. He hurried down the hall and towards the gates. As he left the room, a candle on Firrin's desk suddenly lit. Moments later, it went out.

Grady arrived at the gates within minutes. The soldiers were gathered outside it, along with all of Mahlorn's dwarves.

The young king shoved the weapons into Neithan's arms without a word. Ignoring the adventurer's confused expression, he stepped onto a large rock and turned to face the crowd. They were all talking to each other. Only a few had noticed Grady.

Grady was quiet for a moment, yet they continued talking. "QUIET!" he roared, his voice like thunder. Everyone was immediately silent. No one dared to move. Grady took a breath, then spoke.

"We... We didn't lose this battle. No, the Kalith lost. We drove them from this land. Yet they still have the strength and numbers to come back. But numbers are just that; numbers. The size of an army doesn't matter; it's the loyalty and honor in the hearts of every single soldier in that army. The hearts of the Kalith are always cold; they have no mercy for us. No mercy for your sons and daughters. No, they only care about themselves and their reward for killing." Firrin's words replayed in his mind. "We are mortal men, but in our hearts, we can be so much more. Thieves, murderers, and other evil-doers; they do not understand. They do not understand the true meaning of having loyalty and honor in your heart. But good soldiers do. If a king can die with his dignity intact and his pride put behind him, then can't we all? Firrin served his people to the best of his abilities. You cannot ask for more from a man."

Everyone remained quiet.

"I will lead my people to another, more protected location. Dorandal is hunting me; that is the only reason he challenged Firrin. If any of my men wish to stay behind and assist the dwarves in rebuilding their home, then you may do so." He stepped down from the rock, took the weapons back from Neithan, and strode back in to his tent without another word.

Chapter 13- The Next King

The next morning, Grady was up early. The weapons he had retrieved were under his cot, hidden.

It was around 8 in the morning when two little dwarflings ran into his tent, crashing into him and causing him to fall. He groaned as two small weights were sitting on his stomach and chest.

"UNCA GWADY!" Mildri squealed, in a happy tone. He gripped the king's tunic, burying his face in the soft fabric. Rildri giggled, kneeling on Grady's abdomen.

"Ugh, get off."

Mildri looked up at him with an energized and hyper expression. "No! You hafta play wif' us!" he exclaimed, climbing off the king and grabbing his hand, tugging. "Come on!"

Grady groaned. "Not right now."

"Yes, right now!" Rildri exclaimed, quickly joining his brother. The king sighed and stood. "Why right now?"

"Because we want to! Where's Unca Fwirrin? He's gotta play too!"

Grady tensed, then sighed. "I... I need to talk to you about that." He took both dwarflings in his arms and exited the tent. The boys cuddled against his chest, closing their eyes.

He sat down in a grassy area, away from the tents. "Your uncle... He's not coming back, he... He had to leave." Rildri frowned, and moments later, tears filled his eyes. "Not... Not coming back?"

Grady sighed and nodded. "He... He died." Rildri burst into tears, letting out a wail. Mildri started to cry as well.

"He died protecting you," Grady said, hoping to calm them. "He loves both of you so much. Don't forget that..."

They were both sobbing now, and Grady let them cry into his shirt. It took an hour, but they finally calmed down. His tunic was soaked with tears, but he didn't care. He stood, holding them both. He hummed a lullaby, trying to lull them to sleep. It took a while, but their miserable eyes fluttered shut and they were asleep.

Sighing in relief, he began walking back. He shifted the little dwarves in his arms as he entered his tent, then laid them down. As he turned to leave, he heard "dwagon" whispered in a tiny voice. He looked back; Mildri was looking at him with big brown eyes, sucking two of his fingers. With a small smile, Grady walked over to him and kneeled down. Mildri reached his other hand out, and Grady picked him up. He curled up in the king's arms, making small gurgle sounds. Grady ran his fingers through the boy's curls. "Papa."

Grady frowned. "What?" he asked.

Mildri looked up at him. "Papa!"

The king shook his head. "I'm not your Papa." Mildri looked as if he were going to cry, and Grady quickly held the child close to his chest. "D-Don't cry," he said. "I'll be your Papa... Just don't cry." Mildri looked up at him and smiled. "Yay," he murmured, pressing his cheek against Grady's chest. Grady muttered to himself, then walked out of the tent. The sun was beginning to set in the distance, and the sky was a purplish pink. Mildri seemed mesmerized by the sight.

First I was uncle, now I'm Papa.

Grady smiled. Holding onto the baby, he walked to the food tent. "Krell?"

The woman, in her 50's, turned and gave him a warm smile. "Ello, dear! What can I get you?"

"Hmm..." Grady murmured. Then looked down at Mildri. "What do you think? Hot or cold food?"

Mildri just stared up at him.

Chuckling, Grady said, "Cold food. It gets hot this far down south!"

Krell smiled as she quickly made the food. "Dwarves are used to it. They're like portable heat sources!" she said with a laugh. Grady frowned, then held Mildri's hand in his own. "You're right," he murmured. There was heat rolling off of the dwarfling's tiny body.

"Aren't I always?" said the woman with a smile. Grady grinned. "Thank you!" he called as he left the tent.

He took several steps when a human and a dwarf appeared in front of him. "Who are you?" he asked cautiously, not noticing them before.

"I am Graphin, Firrin's advisor," said the dwarf with a bow.

"And Werlock," said the human. "Firrin was a close friend of mine."

"We've come to talk to you about who should take Firrin's place. The princes are too young. We need someone with... experience, to lead the dwarves of Mahlorn." Grady frowned.

"What about Curin? He has experience and he's distantly related to Firrin." Graphin scowled. "Aye, but not enough experience! We need someone who knows how to lead, who deserves the throne... Like, an advisor."

Grady quickly caught on to their plan. "It should be Curin. He has a big heart. Whoever replaces Firrin will have to step down when Rildri turns of age, and I trust Curin to do that."

The dwarf looked angry. "I know more about ruling a kingdom than any of you so-called kings!" he hissed.

Grady didn't react. "It's not the knowledge of ruling a kingdom that makes you fit to be king," he said coolly, quoting the words of an old friend. "It's how much you care for your subjects."

"I should be king!" Graphin roared. He drew his sword.

Grady stepped back. He could easily take Graphin on in a fight, but he had Mildri in his arms!

"Graphin," Grady said. Mildri looked terrified. "Put the sword down." Graphin glared. "Then declare me as Firrin's successor," the dwarf growled. "I deserve the throne more than anyone else!"

"Just put the sword down!" Grady yelled. Instead, Graphin stepped closer, raised his sword, and swung in down. Grady turned quickly, protecting Mildri. He screamed and collapsed as the blade sunk into his back. Mildri screamed as well.

The pain was too much for the king's body, and he blacked out.

Chapter 14- Need Him Back

Three boys stood before a large throne. They were the boys from the forest; one blonde and two ginger twins.

"What are you asking me," growled the God, Astros, standing before them.

"Galmoran needs his powers back," the blonde pleaded. "He's in so much danger right now in the mortal world! He can't be in exile any longer!"

Astros growled. "Galmoran has not proved himself."

"WHO CARES!?" one of the twins shouted angrily. "He's your own son! And you don't care about him!? Dorandal's going to kill him with a Mordian blade if you don't do something!"

Astros looked as if he would strike the boy. "I will not be spoken to like that by my sons!"

"I'm ashamed to say I'm your son!" The other twins yelled. "We all are! What father banishes his child!?"

Astros was quiet. "Go to your mother," he said. "Now."

The three boys didn't move, anger in their expressions. Then they turned and rushed out of the room.

"How can he not want to help Galmoran!?" the blonde growled. "He's our little brother!"

"He's not so little anymore," replied one of the twins. "He's been through so many lives. He's been through so much."

"Raddin's right," replied the other twin. His name was Engar. "If we do get him back... He won't be the same."

The blonde muttered a curse. "Why did he have to be exiled? Just give him chores for a couple of years!"

"It's not that simple, Windre," Raddin said. "Do you ever pay attention in lessons? What Galmoran did is almost unforgivable."

"I'm not a scholar, like you two," Windre said, rolling his eyes. "But I know that! I'm asking why did it have to be exile? Galmoran would have been happy to be caring for horses and doing work for years! You were there during the fight- Father scarred him forever!"

"Everyone knows that. No matter how many lives he goes through, the scar is always with him... We're looking for a way to contact him."

"We already have a way," Windre said.

"Yes, but Galmoran possibly doesn't know about it. It's important that he gets his powers back. We have an idea, but it's risky."

Windre looked at him desperately. "What is it?"

Chapter 15-

Grady's eyes fluttered open. A dull, throbbing pain was in his back. He groaned, laying on his belly.

"Papa?"

He looked up. Mildri and Rildri were sitting on the ground, looking up at them.

"Ugh," Grady muttered, the pain getting worse. "What happened?"

They just looked at him.

Sighing, Grady got up. He went to the door of the tent, the boys quickly following. He opened the flap, then closed his eyes tightly and turned away. The sun was shining in his eyes, despite it being winter.

"How long was I out?" he muttered.

"Two days," Rildri said. Grady groaned. Shielding his eyes, he staggered out of the tent. "Papa? You're supposed to stay in bed!" The blonde rushed forward and grabbed the king's hand.

Grady glanced back at them. The pain was only getting worse; maybe he should lay down...

"I need to find Neithan," Grady said, shaking his head. "I know where we have to go..."

"Sleep first!" Rildri snapped, jumping up to grab Grady's hand. The king looked down at him, and saw how agitated the child looked.

"What's wrong?" he asked, scooping the boy into his arms. Rildri's blonde hair fell into his eyes as he buried his face in the crook of Grady's elbow, beginning to cry.

"Shhh," Grady cooed, sitting on the cot. "What's wrong?"

"U-Unca!" Rildri hiccupped, sobbing. Grady held him tightly, rocking back and forth slowly.

"Papa?" Mildri whispered, a dejected expression on his face. Grady smiled at him and beckoned him over. The baby struggled to climb onto the bed, and Grady picked him up with one hand. Both dwarflings snuggled into his chest, quiet, except for Rildri's sniffles.

Grady shifted, laying down on his side. Soon they all fell asleep, Rildri and Mildri wrapped in Grady's arms.

It was the middle of the night when they woke. A shrill, bloodcurdling scream rang in the air, coming from the forest.

"Papa?" Rildri whispered, the first to wake up. He heard it again and shuffled closer to Grady, afraid.

"Huh?" Grady mumbled, half-awake.

"Something's out there," Rildri said quietly. Grady opened his eyes as he heard the scream. Mildri woke up seconds later, his brown curls messy. "Papa?" He asked, blinking his eyes sleepily.

"Shhh, go back to sleep, it's just a fox," Grady muttered. But Rildri refused to go back to sleep.

Grady huffed. "I'll show you." He stood, taking the two boys in his arms. He began to walk towards the forest. The closer he came, the louder the screams.

Rildri hid his face in Grady's tunic as the king stopped forward. Slowly, he turned and looked.

In the moonlight, sitting on a large flat rock, was a red fox vixen.

"Just a fox," Grady said. "She's calling for a mate."

Mildri seemed interested in the fox, reaching out as if to pet it. Grady pulled him back. The fox had stopped its screams and was looking intently at little Mildri. Grady held his breath, trying to determine if the fox was looking at Mildri as a meal, a threat, or something harmless.

The vixen hopped off the rock and walked over to the three. She stood on her hind legs, leaning her front paws on Grady's thigh, sniffing at Mildri. The baby giggled and reached a hand down, touching the vixen's nose. She continued to sniff his hand, then went back on all fours. Mildri made a small whine as the she-fox turned and dashed into the woods.

"Shhh, you need to sleep," Grady said softly. "We have a long day tomorrow." Both boys sighed and cuddled in his arms as they walked back to their tent.

Chapter 16- Plan

Mildri woke first. His brown eyes peered out. Shivering, he sat up and looked around. Standing slowly, he picked up one of the blankets and wrapped himself in it tightly. "Hungwy," he said, managing to climb down from the bed. The little dwarf crawled to the door, not trying to walk. The sun was starting to rise in the horizon.

"Mildri?"

Mildri looked up. Alyss stood a few feet away. "What are you doing?"

"Hungwy!" Mildri exclaimed, holding his arms out. Alyss smiled and picked him up. "Where's Rildri and Grady?"

"Asweep," The child replied, yawning. The girl smiled and walked towards the food tent. "What do you want to eat?" she asked. Mildri shrugged. She smiled and picked up two plates of pancakes and maple syrup.

10 minutes later, Grady woke up. He blinked several times, mumbling. He sat up and stretched. He smiled, Rildri's hand gripping his shirt.

He paused. Mildri wasn't there.

He got up quickly, picking Rildri up. The little boy blinked sleepily, curling up in Grady's arms. "Papa?" he mumbled, unhappy at being woken. Grady kissed his forehead. "Go back to sleep," he said softly. Rildri closed his eyes and went right back to sleep.

Grady walked quickly, but tried to keep Rildri comfortable. He looked around, hoping to see the dark-haired dwarfling, but he saw none. He began to realize the fear that parents feel when their child is lost.

"Mildri!" He called. Rildri's eyes fluttered open, and he gripped Grady's shirt tightly. "Papa?" he whispered.

Grady didn't hear. "Mildri!" he called again. Biting his lower lip, he hurried to the food tent.

Peering into the large tent, he breathed a sigh of relief. Alyss and Mildri were sitting at a table across from each other, eating pancakes. Syrup was smudged around his mouth and in some of his curls. Alyss turned and smiled. "Finally up, eh?"

Grady rolled his eyes playfully and pulled a chair over. As he sat down, Rildri instinctively reached for his brother. Mildri did the same. "Rwildwee!" he exclaimed, squeaking happily.

"Mills," Rildri said with a smile.

"They're so adorable!" Alyss exclaimed. "It's like they can't live without the other!"

Grady shifted both dwarflings into the same chair, with Mildri sitting in Rildri's lap. "Yup," he said with a small smile. "They're more than close." Grady glanced at them; Rildri was resting his head on Mildri's shoulder as the brunette finished his pancakes.

"What was your reaction when you noticed that Mildri was gone?" Alyss asked with a smirk. Grady smiled a little. "Fear, nervousness."

"Then you've become protective of them," she said. "That's what parent would usually feel." Grady frowned and closed his eyes, sighing tiredly. "What happened after I blacked out yesterday?"

"We found you and brought you to a healer. You've got a long scar down you're back, and the healer said you're now crippled."

Grady stared at her. "C-Crippled?"

She nodded. "It's going to be quite difficult for you to fight." Grady sighed heavily with a groan. "Argh!"

"So where are we going to go?" Alyss asked.

"Jarrinbark," the king said. Alyss frowned, "why?"

"It's the one place that Dorandal can't really touch," Grady explained. "Queen Izlandir's palace is deep within the heart of the forest. Elves are skilled fighters, and the trees tend to keep intruders out."

Alyss nodded. "That's true. But you said it yourself, a single mistake could make them turn against us."

"Not if my plan works." Alyss frowned. "And what would that be?" she asked. Grady grinned. "You'll see." He stood, picking up both boys.

"It's hard to trust you when you say that!" Alyss called as he left the tent. Grady only chuckled to himself.

Chapter 17

The next day, everyone was packed up to go. Grady had Neithan announce what their next location would be.

Grady strapped his pack onto his horse, then swung up into the saddle. He looked around at the crowd of people. They all had their hoods up as rain poured down.

"A mighty people brought low," he muttered to himself sadly. These people, his subjects, had been used to wealthy lives and having everything they need. Now they were traveling, their riches gone. Rags and cloth shirts with pants instead of fancy gowns and tunics.

"We're ready, sir," said a guard. Grady gave him a nod, then trotted to the front of the crowd. All eyes were immediately on him. He swallowed hard, took a breath, his mind racing to find words.

"Once we arrive at Jarrinbark, no one is to speak to the elves," he said. "A single, wrong sentence out of your mouth can set them off and cause them to attack us. You follow my orders and mine only." He glanced at their faces.

"The dwarf princes Rildri and Mildri are in my care. I want them to be hidden and guarded until a bargain is struck. Am I clear?"

They all nodded.

"Good. To Jarrinbark." He turned and began to walk.

Neithan, Astra and Alyss brought their horses next to his. "What do you plan to do if someone does say something?" Astra asked.

"Defend," he said simply. "That's all we'll be able to do. The princes will be taken out as quickly as possible."

"What about yourself?" she asked. "Will you bravely sacrifice yourself?"

"If it comes to that, I gladly will," he said quietly. "Men have died in the past to protect me before Dorandal came, and I will repay them." The High Lords were quiet.

"We won't let you die," Neithan said. "We've got 300 men, and I doubt that elves would kill a mother who is holding her newborn child. Astra is half dragon, Alyss is fast and strong, and I've trained for years to fight. You're a great fighter yourself, but you can't hold off half an army of elves."

"I've never liked that race," Astra muttered.

"Neither have I. What I'm worried about is the elves finding Mildri and Rildri before we reach a bargain. Elves and dwarves have a long and negative history. And I'm sure that they're smart enough to notice dwarflings among humans, even if they're hidden with a group of our children. I don't think it'll matter if they're princes or not."

"The elves wouldn't kill innocent children!" Alyss exclaimed. "They're not that cruel to dwarves! The most they would do is hold them for a ransom. Oh, and who is going to take Firrin's place?"

"A dwarf, Graphin I think, said he deserved to have the throne. I insisted that it be Currin, but he got angry and attacked." He sighed. "And I had Mildri in my arms!"

"Mildri was screaming after you blacked out," Neithan said.

Grady looked back in the crowd. "Look at them," he said with a sigh. "They look miserable."

Mildri and Rildri sat on a pony, their hoods down. Agitated and miserable expression were on their faces. Mud and dirt was smudged on their cheeks.

"They look like boys in a war..."

"Boys in the company of men," Neithan said.

"They'll be safe in Jarrinbark," Grady said. "Unless we gain Fairhold sometime soon, they should be raised there."

"But would you be the one to raise them?" Astra asked. Grady frowned. "Of course I would."

"But you'd be busy planning a siege against Dorandal and his forces," Alyss said. "When would you have time to raise two princes?"

"I'll make time, now drop the subject," Grady growled, annoyed. They were silent.

Grady looked around at the scenery. The snow was thin here, and easy for the horses. Mountains were in the distance; but they were all smaller than Mahlorn. The sky was grey and there was a chilly breeze. Grady pulled his cloak around him tightly, shivering. Aragoth's terrain was rough and rugged, and many of its creatures were lethal. If a man from another land found himself in this wilderness, and he wasn't prepared, he wouldn't last more than a day, Grady thought. But the native people of Aragoth had natural instincts to survive.

Grady took a breath, then nudged his horse forward. Thoughts began to race through his mind. Everything that had happened flashed before his eyes.

Being born a prince. Sent away to a rich family to be safe from the war. The family being evil and being sent to a poor farmer. Being raised by a large but poor family, working in the field for food and even occasionally killing a bird with a stone by using his slingshot. Finding out he was a prince when he was 16, his coronation months later. Life being peaceful until Dorandal came, forcing them out of their homes, so many lives being taken.

The scar on his back began to throb. He could feel the magic in his mark race to stop the pain, but it was too much. He promptly fainted, falling from the saddle and hitting the ground.

He woke hours later. With a groan, he sat up, and looked around. He was laying on a bedroll, made from leather and wool. He realized that it was a camp; his men were gathered around a large fire. His back hurt, and it was painful to move.

"Oi, the king's up!" called a voice. Everyone turned to look at him. "Papa!" Mildri exclaimed. The two dwarflings jumped up and ran over, Rildri helping Mildri run.

Grady smiled as they crawled into his lap. "I'm alright," he said softly and they snuggled against him.

Rildri coughed into his sleeve. "Good," he mumbled. "I was scared."

Grady smiled a little and hugged them both tightly. "I'm not going to leave you," he promised. "I won't do that." Rildri smiled, then coughed again. "Promise?"

"Promise." Mildri whined, wanting attention. Grady sighed with a smile, standing and holding them to his chest. His steps were shaky, but he managed to get to the fire and he sat on a log.

"Papa?" Rildri asked, clinging to Grady's cloak. "It's cold." The king frowned and hugged them both tightly, wrapping the cloak around them. The boys smiled, feeling warmer. Rildri suddenly had a coughing fit.

Grady frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," Rildri mumbled, but another cough made Grady think otherwise. He left it alone, thinking it might just be a cold that would pass. He didn't expect the boys to be used to weather like this, where it's easy for them to catch a cold.

Grady got up and wrapped them both in his cloak, then walked over to Alyss and Astra. "Evening," he said with a bow.

The girls smiled at him. "Evening," they said.

He sat down next to them. "Rildri might be sick," he said.

"He seems a little pale," Alyss said. "And he was coughing."

"He had a coughing fit a few minutes ago," he said with a frown.

"Larin's flu?" Astra asked. "Coughing is a symptom. It's usually caught when you're exposed to the cold when you're not used to it."

"Mahlorn never seemed to be chilly," Alyss said.

"Furnaces pump warm air into the halls and rooms in winter," he murmured. "Maybe they just need more warmth. I can make furs for them."

"You should," Astra said. "Larin's Flu can kill if you don't treat it, so you should also get something to ease the discomfort for Rildri."

Grady nodded. He had had Larin's Flu before, and it was like a very bad cold, with sore muscles and almost constant coughing.

"I'll hunt to get pelts tomorrow, and I'll give him something from Dallen before they go to bed," he said. The girls nodded.

Grady walked towards the healers. "Dallen!" he called. A young man looked up. "Yes, your majesty?" he asked.

"I need some Calaban leaves," Grady said. "One of the dwarf princes might have caught Larin's Flu."

"Oh, I have some!" Dallen said, getting up and grabbing his satchel. "If you make it into a tea, it'll be easy to get him to take it," he said. "Calaban leaves don't taste very good. Poppy seeds will help him sleep too, so he won't wake up coughing." Grady thanked him, taking the leaves and seeds.

He walked to the fire and grabbed a one of the teapots. He filled it with melted snow, then hung it on a pole over the fire to melt the snow.

When it was melted, he took the pot and put the leaves in. He left it to heat up, getting a mug. When he came back, he took the pot and poured the water into the mug, then added sugar and milk.

He walked over to Mildri and Rildri. Mildri was asleep, but Rildri was wide awake. He smiled at Grady, reaching his arms up to be held. Grady smiled and picked him up. "Want some tea?" he asked, putting the mug into Rildri's hands.

The boy took a sip, then spit it out and made a face. "Yuck," he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

Grady sat down, holding the dwarfling in his lap. "I know, it tastes yucky," he said with a sigh. "But it'll make you feel better, okay? And these will help you sleep well." He held up the poppy seeds.

Rildri frowned, then hesitantly took a small sip. Grady smiled. "Good," he said. "Just small sips, you can do it."

Soon the mug was half full. "Don't want it," Rildri whimpered, gagging at the taste. "It'll help you stop coughing," Grady cooed. "Come on, you can finish it."

Rildri hesitated, then gulped it down until there was only a little bit left. Grady smiled. "Good!" he said, putting the mug down and hugging Rildri. The blonde closed his eyes. "Can you take these now?" Grady asked, holding out the poppy seeds. Rildri frowned, then took the seeds and slipped them into his mouth. Grady helped him drink the rest of the tea.

Rildri closed his eyes, tired. "Papa?" he mumbled.

"Yes?"

"I'm tired."

"Then sleep."

Chapter 18

When Grady woke the next morning, it was a little warmer than usual. He wore only a thick wool sweater instead of a fur coat. He splashed cool water in his face to wake him up, then stretched his limbs. When he finished, he grabbed his bow and arrows. He needed to get pelts for Rildri and Mildri.

He took only several steps out of his tent when Marlin walked over to him, looking annoyed, as usual. "Several men have gotten sick with influenzia," she said. "The healers are working to cure them. They need extra hands to help."

Grady frowned. "I can't right now, I need to get pelts-"

"You can do that later," Marlin huffed. "These men could die!"

"One of the dwarf princes could have Larin's Flu," Grady growled. "I gave him calaban tea last night and poppy seeds to help him sleep. They're not used to this weather, I need to get pelts!"

"Fine," she spat. "But you better help!"

Grady watched as she turned on her heel and left. Breathing a sigh of relief, he hurried towards the small forest a couple meters away.

It didn't take long for him to discover wolf tracks. There were a few different paw prints, each running into each other. Sighing, he followed a random set of prints. Despite it being around 7 in the morning, he was wide awake, and glad to be in the woods. When he was hunting, he was in his element. He hated going with a partner, because they usually scared off the prey by being too clumsy.

He was alert. He knew the dangers that came with hunting. If you weren't careful, you could get attacked by a wolf that crept up on you. And you wouldn't be able to scream for help.

But he could turn into a wolf! He could fight back. He could defend himself.

He pulled himself up into a pine tree, crouching on a branch. He looked around for any sign of a wolf. There was none, but he could wait.

Soon, a gray shape walked into the clearing. Grady watched as the wolf sniffed the air, then looked in the direction of the tree. The king tensed.

"Gray wolf," he muttered to himself. "Loner or a stray from a pack."

He usually did this. Analyzing the animal he was about to shoot.

He drew the arrow back. The wolf suddenly fell on its side, an arrow implanted in its side.

Grady released his arrow seconds later. It impaled in the snow. He quickly jumped down from branch to branch to get the wolf. This had happened before. Someone else was in the forest, and they wanted the wolf too. Grady just had to claim the wolf's body by getting to it first.

A sudden figure darted in front of him, pushing Grady into the snow. The king hissed, snow getting under his tunic. He got up again, running.

He cursed to himself. The figure was smaller than him, and had gotten to the body.

"I need it!" he called. "I need that wolf. I have a whole camp outside of the woods, and we need to keep our food stock high. And one of our little ones might have Larin's Flu." Grady felt ridiculous for explaining their situation to a stranger who might not even care.

The figure stared at him, his face hidden by the hood of his cloak. Grady stepped closer. "Please, I need it."

Several tense moments passed. Grady bit his lip.

Suddenly, the figure lowered its hood, and Grady gasped, taking a step back.

"WINDRE!"

The blonde laughed. "Hey, little brother," he called.

Grady narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Visiting."

"You're a terrible liar."

Windre sighed. "Okay. So, you know Doter?"

Grady frowned rolling his eyes. "I remember my sister, Windre."

"Well, she found a way to give you your powers back!" Windre exclaimed. "Pa doesn't know about it. He doesn't even know we're here." He sighed. "We all hate it up there. It's no fun with you not around. Pa acts like we're the greatest treasures there ever were, while you're down here, going through life and death over and over again."

Grady frowned. "Well, when you're in a family with 20 other siblings, there usually seems to be one kid that's going to be a disappointment."

Windre frowned as well. "You're not a disappointment, and you never were. Pa just didn't appreciate your talents."

Grady sighed and sat down in the snow. "Only Mama did."

"She misses you," Windre said. "We all do. Pa gets annoyed whenever we talk about you, and I think I know why."

Grady frowned. "Why?"

"Maji-kal," said the blonde. "Fear. He's afraid of you making the mistakes he did. If that's not the reason, then I don't know."

"Lalkin maja Fateh rahjaz," Grady muttered.

"Hey!" Windre said. "If I can't curse, then neither can you."

"As far as I know, I'm a human adult, and you're a 13 year old Godling," Grady said with a smirk.

Windre huffed in annoyance. "Do you want your powers back or no?"

"Yes! How?"

"Drink this," Windre said, holding out a small vial with a red liquid inside.

Grady frowned. "That better not be blood," he said, "Because I already had to drink my blood, vampire blood, and mermaid blood mixed together to get my wolf powers."

Windre rolled his eyes. "It's Dralon wine," he said. "I went through a lot of trouble to get just that small vial of it, so it better work."

Grady immediately took it, opening the top and drinking it all. He handed the glass bottle back to his brother.

A drowsy feeling overcame him, and he collapsed, falling into a deep sleep.

Chapter 19

When Grady woke up, he felt like he had no energy. He forced himself to sit up on his elbows, opening his eyes.

He was wearing a clean white tunic with a golden silk belt. Brown leggings were tucked into brown fur boots. Gold bands were around his muscles. His hair was longer, reaching his shoulders in curls.

"You're Galmoran again," said a voice next to him. He looked over at Windre.

"It feels weird, being 12 again," he mumbled. "Kind of... Unnatural feeling."

Windre smiled at him, then stood. Galmoran also stood, stretching his arms, his legs, flexing his feet and fingers as he tried to get used to being in a 12 year old's body again.