Broken Wings
N.W. 267
A Dwarf's Death

Lloyd smiled to himself as he looked over the young dwarf's work. Hogun was getting older, and didn't have the energy to be in the forge all the time anymore, so Lloyd would occasionally come in to help instruct the Master Blacksmith's last apprentice... Whom Hogun had been joking was really more Lloyd's apprentice than his.

"Much better. Did you figure out what you did differently this time?" he asked. Thorben nodded, looking embarrassed.

"I was relyin' on the magic ta hold the heat in last time, but I was holdin' it too hot."

Lloyd nodded. Exactly the problem he'd noticed. "And the etching?"

"I think I was too worried about the brittleness I could feel in the metal ta even be thinkin' 'bout the etchings."

A smile spread across Lloyd's face as he nodded again. "Exactly. I'll admit to being impressed. It usually takes longer to work out where in the process you've gone wrong, and fix it. And I speak from personal experience as well. This particular exercise took me weeks to master."

Thorben grinned, rightfully proud of his accomplishment. "And Master Hogun hails you as the fastest learner he's ever had."

Lloyd shrugged. "Eh, he also wasn't starting from scratch with me. Still, I do best with the fiddly stuff. Jewelry, detail work... That kind of thing. Armor and weapons were more a case of necessity than interest." He handed the plate armor back to the dwarf. "So, you got any plans for the night?"

Every once in a while, Lloyd was more than happy to take the apprentice blacksmith out for a few drinks. It helped keep him social, and after decades spent popping in and out of Vraelheim at a whim, it seemed everyone had decided that the strange human was just another dwarf in the wrong skin.

Thorben turned and chuckled. "Well, guessin' I do now."

Lloyd laughed along with him, and was about to confirm it when a female dwarf in the uniform of the city runners burst into the workshop.

"Irving! Master Irving!"

Lloyd was on his feet and in front of the runner in moments. "I am he."

"Miss Darria asked me ta come get ya. Yer father..."

Lloyd wanted to race out of the building, but years and years of being grumbled at for poor manners had him staying rooted in place, at least for a moment. And... "I'll head over as soon as I've closed up the workshop," he said, turning and giving Thorben a look.

The apprentice nodded, understanding in his eyes.

Well over three hundred years old, Dirk Irving had finally passed into the next life. Thorben had gathered his things and left within moments, and the runner, message delivered, also left. It took but moments for Lloyd to close everything up and put up the sign that would tell any customers that he was out.

Vraelheim's occupants had finally grown used to seeing blue-green wings soaring through the massive cavern the city called home, so Lloyd felt no guilt in taking to the air, racing from Master Hogun's shop toward the side-cavern that Dirk had called home for over half a century now.

His large wings made it difficult to fly in tight quarters, but with some practice and a distinct need, Lloyd had found he was able to manipulate the mana that made his wings up, make it more or less solid, or condense it such that his wings became half their original size.

It still left them large, but they were small enough to help with navigating the tighter spaces of the caverns, and he lost no control over his flight in doing so now after years of practice.

What would have been an hour's walk given the hour, or a half-hour's run had he managed to slip out and follow the runner, became a ten-minute flight... Ten minutes only because it was difficult to get up to speed in the comparatively dead air of the caverns.

Landing a few yards away from the door to his father's home, Lloyd ran the last bit of distance, not bothering to knock as anyone within would be expecting him.

Andven was the first dwarf he recognized. Darria was the next, the both of them turning at the sound of the opening door.

Dirk looked, at first glance, to simply be asleep... But Lloyd didn't need to feel for mana to know that his father was already beyond this world. There was no breath in the still form under the blanket, no heartbeat.

Lloyd had known this was coming. Most dwarves were lucky to make it to two-eighty. Dirk... Dirk had been well over three hundred, inching up on three-twenty.

"Lloyd." Darria's voice was rough, and familiar, and Lloyd didn't hesitate to fall into the chair next to her and allow the matronly dwarf to wrap her arms around him. His cousin, technically, not that they'd ever really mentioned it as anything more than a passing comment.

"When will he be buried?" Lloyd asked, the words forced and quiet.

"As soon as a stone is prepared for his grave," Darria answered, just as quiet.

A stone... The dwarves were creatures of the earth. Stone, metal, wood... they designed and molded and built everything they had, and to the earth, each would be returned. Ceremonial armor, a casket of wood... and a stone carved to mark their grave, a testament to their life.

Lloyd knew the dwarven culture and their traditions just as well as any dwarf born into the city now. He knew... traditionally... that when a father passed, it was his family who created the armor, casket, and stone for his grave.

But Darria and Lloyd were the only family Dirk had left. And while Lloyd would have no troubles with the armor, and Darria was a wood-worker like Dirk...

It was okay, in times like these, for one part of the triad to be done by someone outside the family. But in older times, those duties would be doubled up.

And... Lloyd had been talking to some of the stonemasons lately. Sure, he'd been asking around more with the intention of preparing himself to make gravestones for Genis and Richter (and Alice and Decus, a part of him noted, as they'd never had gravestones), but... No one would be surprised if he chose to truly learn the art now for Dirk's sake.

"I think... I need to have another talk with Master Ingar," he said after a while.

"Lloyd, yeh don't have ta—" Andven started.

"Lloyd."

He looked up, Darria standing in front of him and looking at him worriedly.

But whatever she saw in his eyes, it must have gotten the point across. Because she stepped back, nodded, and then turned to Andven. "Glorys should have gone ta get the stones for a stasis field after gettin' Lloyd. Wait here for her, would yeh? Lloyd don't need ta sleep, an' if I know the lad, he'll be spending the light hours with Master Ingar and the dark workin' on Dirk's armor."

Lloyd couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

Darria knew him too well.