((Events contained within are all to be considered OOC information, with the exception of those for whom it was intended As Related to THIS thread.))

Shale

"Are they kidding with that' Tell me they're kidding, dad!" Aliazh Shattersword stepped into the room and threw the ceremonial hammer across the room with enough force that it punched through the plaster of the wall and stuck there. It would have been satisfying if the noise and the shouting hadn't woken the baby up in his wife's arms. A blunt fingered hand went to his shoulder, the dwarf it was connected to having to reach up ever so slightly to put his arm around his son.

"Calm down Al, it's not so bad as it seems." Flint Shattersword gave his son a pat. Al hated it when his father tried to be consoling. It only meant one thing, he'd given in already to the decree of the dwarven council.
"Not bad"! They named him Shale. It's fucking insulting! It's bad enough what they named me, Aliazh....Alloy, impure. Don't think I don't know that's what they were getting at. He's your father, surely you have some pull with him." Al turned pale green eyes on his father and ground his teeth. "Don't look at me like that, Shale....you know what it means."

"I'm going to take Shale up and try to get him back to sleep." Lumira Shattersword may have carried a dwarven name, but there was nothing dwarvish about her. She was the tallest in the room by a full head, there was a faint point to her ears quite similar to that of her husband's. Her features were distinctly fae in nature, though it was carried over a frame that easily spoke of her human roots as well. She looked at Al and Flint in a way that had both men bowing their heads a little and looking at her pitifully. They'd be more careful, or she'd let loose with all the fury she barely kept controlled under that head of thick red hair.

Al watched her go, and pulled his tone down much further. "Mud stone. They're as much calling him a mutt. I never should have gone through with this stupid tradition."

"If it helps, I think they have somethin' against me....for your mother." If Flint was feeling guilty, he certainly didn't sound it. His manner was more defiant than guilt judging by the hard set of his jaw. "Don't you worry me boyo. They may be hard pressed to remember their choices. Alloy's be stronger than pures....and Shale be one mighty useful rock. Take heart that both of ye will live upter your names. Besides, wouldya rather not've been born as ye are? Might be ye wouldn' have the boy upstairs, or the wife ye love. Might be everythin' would be changed and ye'd be wonderin' what's missin' from yer life."

Al was too pretty to be a dwarf, despite his stature. Not surprising really, considering he was only half. The cant and point to his ears was easily noticed among the dwarves, it had come from his mother, the mountain elf. She and his father had split nearly a decade ago. Al had been raised among the brothers under the mountain, but he'd never been fully accepted despite his abilities with the stone. He'd never been fully accepted anywhere except for this city where strange was the norm.

The reappearance of Lumira sans baby Shale had Al sighing relief. "I'll never understand why he sleeps so much better with the windows open than closed. He fussed until I did that." She crossed the room and surveyed the damage to her wall. "You're going to fix that one since you did it." She was pretending to be upset, Al knew her pretty well, and if she were truly upset she'd have sent both of them out to gather the tools needed to get the job done now.

"Shale will be a good name for him. We'll make it work Al, I promise, besides, this was my idea. You get the naming but I get the testing." It was a bit presumptuous of her in Al's opinion. The woman insisted that the boy would show most talent in either fire or water. She backed it up with questionable facts like because he was inside of her he would find her affinities.

"Okay..." Al acquiesced for now, but he'd bring it up to Lu tonight, after leaving her breathless and what he liked to describe as far more receptive to logic. He'd try, but Lu was a force of nature, and he would have to adjust in the end. Perhaps it was best to just begin to get used to it, Lu would stubbornly adhere to the name offered. He loved her too much to make that decision be something miserable for her. It was easier, and perhaps better to just give him nicknames which made more sense to a father. "Okay, I get it, I'm outnumbered here anyway, but dad. I'm not willing to let the slight go without suitable justice. That I will leave in your hands."

Flint's eyes lit up for two reasons, the first being that his stubborn son had seemed to find the thing he needed to overcome it. The second was that he was more than willing to extract proper payment from the Dwarven Councillors. Already he was running through what would best serve each member, though most especially his intolerant father.

Two weeks on board the Switch, hadn't made Shale miss home any less. Dinner had been rushed, despite how he tried to prolong it by making his father do the silly things he always did. His mother, usually so stern about such matters seemed accepting, perhaps even regretful. She was not herself at all, though why would she be? She didn't hide things so well, not from him at least. Of course he'd learned to read her moods pretty well, that had saved him more than once from being disciplined. Not always of course, Shale was still just as willing to try new things even when it wasn't what his parents wanted. Perhaps it wasn't all his fault. The voices often called to him, and over time he'd come to recognize them for what they were. Air and water, fire and earth, they were always alive and talking. Perhaps not to him, but that didn't stop him from listening in. It was this which had allowed him to find the box, and know what was inside of it before Aerimella ever brought it from the water. It was this which he'd relied upon to tell him about his parents long after Grimm had put his hand on Shale's shoulder and guided him toward the ship.

He'd watched the harbor disappear, and his parents along with it. The wind told of their progress back home until they were no longer touched by it. He tried to shut off the sounds Lumira was making without effect. When the wind failed him, he knelt on the aft deck looking to the waters below hoping to see a faint flash of scale, and pink hair. Of his friend there was no sign, had she already forgotten him' Was she being punished for seeing him once again? The latter was more likely he knew. Grimm had come eventually to take him below decks to the cabin they'd be sharing. It wasn't all theirs of course, the crew rotated shifts, the rooms and hammocks would need to be shared. It would be theirs at night though.

"I need you to do something, boy." Grimm was tall and broad. He had thick arms and a red beard that ran braided halfway down his chest. He was like an immense red headed version of Shale's grandfather. The boards that made up the deck beneath his feet trembled at his passing as he led Shale to a room at the aft end of the ship, two levels below where he'd been kneeling.

"I need you to keep your wits about you. Don't tell anyone your name, you can run and play but when they ask you who you are, you will keep quiet." He pushed open the door before Shale, who was staring up at the man in confusion, could run headlong into it. "Can you do that?"

"I can." Shale nodded firmly at the huge man and gave him a broad smile. "Somethin' wrong with sayin my name?"

"Normally, I don't like pirates kid, but these aren't really that. They're raiders, and they're clan. What they get, they share with all. You're not clan yet, it's like you have no name. Stay here for now, try to get used to the bed. It'll rock funny and your belly may not like it. There's a bucket just there if you get to feeling sick." Grimm's head turned to the corner and a wooden bucket.

Grimm had left him alone then. He'd been right, the beds did rock funny, always it seemed going the opposite direction as the ship was. His stomach went queasy quickly on that first day. That was two weeks gone now, and he'd learned to adjust. He spent much of his day running the deck with Petra the cabin boy and at fourteen years old the closest person in age to Shale. He'd taught Shale how best to climb the rigging, and stood with him atop the mast where it seemed like they could see for miles. He'd even shown Shale a number of good places to hide if hunters boarded them.

Two weeks in the sun had put a bronze burnish to Shale's skin too, there was something about the sea that made the sun feel that much stronger. All of the crew seemed to share that same trait, except for Grimm who kept himself covered most of the time. The parts that weren't covered had gone straight to sunburnt almost overnight. Petra was in Shale's room now, they were playing a dice game that Petra had taught him.

"I just don't get why I don't get to know....I mean if we were attacked, and I saw someone about to stab you in the back, how would I call out to you to let you know?" It wasn't the first time Petra had asked, citing many reasons which were all good. This last one had Shale thinking. How indeed would he be able to"

"It's just that..." He looked at Petra almost helpless before finally giving in. "Yell for Shale, and I'll duck, okay?"

"Petra!" The Captain seemed to have the volume of three people, it was enough to be heard from prow to stern, and top to bottom of the Swift. Petra gathered up the dice, and headed for the door, pulling it wide and revealing Grimm on his way down the corridor. He looked at the cabin boy as he passed by him. Petra exchanged a nod with him before disappearing up a ladder and out of sight.

Grimm turned and shut the door. "It's time for your first lessons, boy. You ready?"

Shale stood up quickly in his excitement, crossing the room in leaps. He'd been wondering when the man would begin to teach him. He grinned up at Grimm expectantly. It was short lived ecstasy, Shale suddenly became a missile aimed at the wall. The backhand had caught him hard across the mouth. He'd never seen anyone move so quickly, let alone someone the size of Grimm. His joints popped with the impact, body dropping to the floor like a sack. His mouth hurt, a wipe of his sleeve came away red. Then the deck began to shudder beneath Grimm's boot heels.

"Lesson one, boy." Grimm's hands slid to his belt, and pulled it free of his body. "When I say a thing you do it. But don't you worry, we'll teach you how to hold your tongue."

There were moments that Shale was certain his screams were every bit as loud as the Captain's had been. He'd called for his parents, for Petra, for anyone until his lungs hurt and his consciousness fell away from him.

Alone

I hear the ticking of the clock
I'm lying here the room's pitch dark
I wonder where you are tonight ~  Billy Steinberg / Tom Kelly

Glanchester village was small compared to the city that had birthed Shale. It rested at the base of a mountain range, next to a river that raged its way past the village. Not that Shale had gotten to see it very well. The sun was gone when Grimm finally stopped in front of a large home. Through the front windows burned lights, the windows on the second story were dark and if it weren't for the crickets the place would be nearly silent. Shale started for the door, when Grimm put his hand roughly on his shoulder.

"Not so fast boy, there's work to be done." The large man started toward the barn, opening the doors and moving into the darkness beyond. Shale's eyes adjusted quickly, they'd always done that though whether that came from his elven or dwarven sides he didn't know. He stood in the opening, looking at a workspace that contained a large forge an anvil and tools neatly housed into places that they could be easily reached.

"Clean the ash out of the forge, then I'll show you how to start the fire." It was the nicest Grimm had been since they'd set sail. He was sweating by the time he was done, the shovel was heavy, formed of iron so that the handle wouldn't need to be replaced. Iron not steel, the alloy was expensive, and the shovel only needed to be usable for shoveling ashes. Shale had managed to do the work without uttering a word, though towards the end he was grunting with his efforts to lift the shovel.

"'Bout time you finished. There's a pile out back, take the bucket, dump it there. On the way back grab the barrow, fill it completely. Not higher than the sides though. I have to measure every bit of the coal I use." Grimm's voice held a now familiar edge. Shale's slowness had irritated him, and he knew it. Irritation toward him seemed to be the only thing the man was capable of.

Shale hurried now, grabbing up the bucket and practically running out the backside of the barn. The pile was unmistakeable, even though the weather had beaten it down, drenched it and pounded it again with heat and wind. Shale dumped the ash, caring little where the contents of the bucket landed. Then he was doing his best to steer an unwieldy barrow to the pile of coals. Another shovel was placed there, this one more standard at least, though the handle towered over him. He worked quickly, or tried to at least, the shovel loads were small, and the coals would drop free in a cascade as the spade end twisted in his hands. There was the added issue of neither over or under filling the barrow. Even as he was wheeling it in, he just wasn't sure that his efforts would be rewarded with pain.

"Finally back eh' I was growing impatient." Grimm's hands were planted firmly against his hips in fists. Shale knew the sign, he braced himself once more for an impact from the man. It never came.

"You took too long boy....just too long. It's time for me to go inside. This is your place, you'll have to make do with no fire. Tomorrow I'll show you how to light it, how to tend it and you'll learn, or....Much like tonight, you'll be cold. It's good we got back sooner than expected, else I'd have needed to teach you how to move quickly. Someone will come out with a bit of bread for you. Want more" You'll have to earn it....here I thought you dwarves knew your way around a shovel. Guess you just don't measure up."

Shale wished he'd have been slapped, or back handed, or punched. These had been happening repeatedly, and at least he was becoming better able to deal with them. There'd been no stop to eat dinner, they were too close to stop, Grimm had claimed. Shale was hungry, his hands ached in a way he'd never realized they could. First the iron, with its coating of fine rust had scoured him. Then the wooden handle had raised pus filled blisters, only break them open and make his palms sting. He could see Grimm clearly, the cruelest of grins on his face as he backed up through the door, then closed it to shut out all the light.

Shale whimpered, he'd learned on the way here that the ground even though it was warm out, would steal the heat from him. It would leave him shivering in the darkness, unable to sleep. At least then he'd had the stars to look at. In here there was only shadow, shadow and the form of a small boy. I'm Shale, I'm Shale, I'm Shale...Why was it always so much scarier in the dark?

Like a Stone

In your house I long to be
Room by room patiently
I'll wait for you there
Like a stone
I'll wait for you there
Alone

Alone ~ Chris Cornell

Children played along the shoreline of an angry river. Shale did not approach them, he knew better than to try and fit in with them. He watched them, and listened to the voice of the river as it raged angry at being so confined. Shale had tried make friends on those few occasions he'd been allowed to leave the forge. He'd been almost successful once, before an adult hand reached for the girl and carried her away. He'd never learned her name, but he remembered the piercing blue eyes and the wildly curling blonde hair as she looked back at him. The others ignored him at first, then driven him away with brandished stones and clubs made from sticks that had washed up along the shore. Grimm was right, no one would come for him if the river took him.

Another sound touched Shale's ears, one that he'd never heard before. He turned his back on them, traveling upstream towards the forest and the unfamiliar sound. It became clear as he drew further from the village that it was singing, though there were no words to decipher in it. Trees hid the village from sight, and the sounds of it were gone as well. It was just him and the lone singer now. He stopped when he caught sight of a woman as she stood in the river rubbing what he could only assume were her clothes on a rock.

"It's rude to stare, boy. Ruder still to not announce yourself, are you a bandit that you would act so?" She wasn't looking when she'd spoken, but she turned her head and looked directly at the place he was standing.
"I'm no thief!" Shale's arms crossed defiantly over his chest at the presumed insult. He did move forward more into the small clearing, if only to get a better look at the one who had called him bandit.

"No....I suppose not. A bandit would have simply attacked." She was old, the wrinkles on her face etched deeply as the bark of the trees he'd just left. Her hair was so white that it actually looked blue in the sunlight. "Don't just stand there growing roots, make yourself useful."

Shale took more steps forward, then stopped by the rivers edge. "I can't swim." Guilt pressed itself to him, digging into his flesh and seeping inside. "I am, një gur." That was what he'd been called, half his life ago, the words stayed stuck in his mind.

"A stone are you? But just a little one. No, even stones can swim they just do it differently." She pointed to a basket on the shoreline. "I've left my basket behind, the water here is not so deep. Put the basket on your head and just walk to me."

Should he trust her, or was this another trick that would only get him into trouble again. He seemed to have quite the knack for getting into that. Slowly he moved to comply, kicking off his shoes and gathering the basket and stepping into the water before remembering to at least take off his pants. The river's current pushed at Shale immediately, he dug his feet in and pushed right back.

"I can't help my size, it's not my fault that everyone here is a giant." Everyone everywhere was a giant to Shale, unless they were much younger than him. The woman had been right though, the water only came to the middle of his chest by the time he'd reached her. He hadn't braved the river yet, being in it he couldn't help but look down towards the village. Forms, small ones, still played in the water there. He only registered them for a moment before directing his gaze onward toward a single spire of stone rising from the water. "What is that?"

The old woman chuckled, and started to load up the basket. "Are you blind too' It's a stone, only a big one. It does not swim. Because the river is not deep enough. It just stands there guarding Abaddon, and the gateway to Sheol. At least until the river knocks it down."

"What do you mean' What are Abaddon, and Sheol?" He stopped looking at the stone tower and turned to look at her. The last word sounded like his name, but not quite. "And how will the river knock it down?"

"The river....depends on what you believe. It was named after a potter, though few remember that now, or that the clay that the river churns up is used in making so many of our wares. Kruger it's called, but every village along it and even those to the far reaches of our country know the river Kruger flows into Abaddon, the bottomless pit, and past the gates of Sheol the land of the dead." She loaded the basket as she talked, and didn't wait to tell him she was done. She just started for the shore, continuing her story. If Shale wanted to hear more he'd have to go along with her.

"The stone, it will fall a little at a time no doubt. Every day and every night the river pounds upon it. It has stood a long time, but then again this one was probably as tall once." She said it offhandedly, as though he should have noticed it immediately.

"Kind of like an anvil then?" He stayed with her as best he could, wincing once when she reached out to steady him. He managed to keep his burden out of the water, this made him smile at the woman.

"What is it with boys and the naming of things that have stood for thousands of years" But, yes a little, like an anvil if that makes it easier to understand." She took the basket from him and set it down. Shale stood there dripping, his clothing soaked. He pushed his shoes back onto his feet and followed the woman through the woods to a small shack hidden deeper in the forest.
"Still with me then? You should do the carrying then, and let an old woman walk in comfort." The gasp she gave may have been surprise as Shale took the basket on top of his head once more.

There were lines strung between the trees, for hanging the wet clothing. They were too high for Shale to reach, though when he tried the old woman pulled his shirt off of him and put it over one of the lines. She was giving him that look that he hated out of Day li'en.

He could see by her eyes what it was she stared at. "Go inside, you'll find a housecoat on the chair in there. Put it on, and bring me your wet pants, no sense in sending you home soaking wet."

Shale did not move, he simply looked up at her with his jaw set for a moment. He hated when he made them feel the way she was looking at him. There was only one thing he could think of to do. His mouth went wide, every tooth showing. He'd gotten good at this, had even managed to figure out how to get it to his eyes. "It's nothing, I can't even feel it."

It was a lie, but it was for the right reasons so far as he was concerned. He turned toward the cabin, barely more than a shack knowing that side of him was even worse. He didn't have to see her face to know the look had returned. Shale told his lie again, not with words this time, but with his posture, standing up straighter and walking towards the place as though he didn't feel anything.

"Like an anvil." Shale heard the words behind him, though he wasn't meant to. As he shouldn't have heard her singing, or Aemy's final question to him. The air carried it to him intentional or not. He stopped in the doorway and looked back.

"Maybe, a little, if it helps you understand easier."

———————————

"I told you two hours and no more, boy." Shale had hurried, he'd run all the way back from the woman's cabin, but he knew the moment the sun dipped below the horizon that he was going to be too late, and not just a little too late either. Grimm was standing there waiting for him inside the barn. The door to the house closed loudly, and Shale could see that Day and come out. She looked scared. By the expression on Grimm's face, she was right to.

"Two hours, that's what you told me. No more." It was better to admit the truth when it was obvious that lying wouldn't matter. Shale knew by now there was no pleading. He simply moved towards the barn, pulling the shirt off for the second time that day. He heard a stifled noise out of Day as he passed by Grimm into the forge. His shirt was tossed well away from him as he stood between a pair of roof supports. He stepped to one and the other taking hold of the leather loops that hung from each, and sliding them onto his wrists. Day was there then, pulling them taut, her chin was shaking as she looked at him.

"It's okay..." Shale spoke softly to her pulling out the grin that he'd perfected for just such occasions. "It's my birthday. I promise, I won't even feel it."

Get Up

When your body's screaming out
Get up
And your hope is fading now
Get up
And the light is dimming down
Get up
And your strength is waning
Raise your eyes, Tell your mind
To lift yourself, One more time ~ All Good Things

Change is good. Shale had heard that before, but in his experience change was rarely a good thing. Maybe they didn't mean all encompassing changes, yet even the small ones seemed to be a razor's edge and he had clumsy fingers. There had been change since Yule, and not all of it was bad. He saw more of Elle an'allein, a lot more, she and Grimm seemed to have come to some understanding where Shale was concerned. Three days a week he would spend time with her, and she would teach him things she insisted that he would need to know. Two of those days their time was only a few hours between when the sun was going down until full dark. The third was Sabbath, and Shale spent the entire day with her and Aris.

Grimm was the razor, he'd become unpredictable in the year and a half since Elle had stopped the man. This change was not so good. Before, at least, Shale always knew who would be coming to the forge in the morning. Now it was impossible to tell from one day to the next. Nothing was different on those days that Grimm couldn't be satisfied. Shale still took his share of discipline, more than his share some would say. It wasn't always that way, he'd learned a lot and now assisted in almost every piece that Grimm put out. Some things he'd even taken over for himself. Remaking the shoes for the horses had been the beginning, but ferrier was just a small part of what Grimm did. Most of it was mundane, and Grimm grumbled his way through it. The bladeworks were what really held his interest. On those days, Shale's master seemed almost to forget that he hated the boy. On those days, Grimm would managed to last through several utterances of the question from him.

Why, it was a byproduct of his time with Elle. Her instruction fueled his curiosity, and Shale wanted to know how everything worked. Grimm hated that about him too, often asking as he coiled up the whip on the way out of the forge, "Can't you just accept that this is how it works and be satisfied boy?"

No. Shale never said the word, it was the truth but it was one truth that he didn't believe that Grimm wanted to hear. He hadn't been hit in the face as often, something that had been brought home to him one day when he was playing with Aris. The fox darted from one side of Shale to another as he rolled left or right. No matter what Shale did, the fox somehow managed to nose its way through his defenses and tickle him with her tongue. Shale was pulled into fetal position from uncontrolled laughter. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed. Perhaps Elle couldn't either because she rushed from the little cabin she called home and gasped. Shale jumped up in time to see her hand covering her mouth, and see the glistening of tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry! Why are you crying" I'll stop, cuz I didn't mean to hurt you." Shale's hands were shoved deep into his pockets. Guilt pulled at his chest as he looked at her.

"Shush now, you haven't hurt me Nico....I just....sometimes you're face is so beautiful it hurts my eyes." She came towards him, and Shale had to force himself to remember that she'd never hurt him. Well, except for when she was putting things on his back. That wasn't really her though, it was whatever she used in the paste she made. He felt her gnarled fingers slip through his hair and pat his head.

"Beautiful is for girls, how can boys be beautiful?" Shale's life had a lot of uncertainties in it, but he was pretty sure that he was right. The old woman just chuckled at him and sent him to wash up and eat.

————————————

Anima Verus, the words were there to be seen, if you were looking for them. Few would be looking, not here from a knife made by a child. Shale loved the forge, the stifling smell driven on gusts of heat. He loved the site of the metal cold or heated, the bell sound of his hammer as it rained down blows, and the drops of sweat that flowed down his skin tickling every part of him that it touched. He loved the soot and the dirt, the whoosh of the bellows and the hiss of steam as the work was quenched. He'd been at it all night, he'd been there all day, at Grimm's command, the boy hadn't slept since he'd begun the work on his first official piece. The amulets he'd made nearly two years ago didn't count. They were simple little things that did no more than show he knew how to turn bits of metal into a whole. This was different, it meant something different to Shale at least.

The hilt fit his hand perfectly. It was made for small hands, if only to keep Grimm from laying claim to it as well. Shale had carved and stained the bone handle to a mottled brown. The flat of the blade looked like napped Flint, or the way light hit stone beneath the surface of a lake. It was steel though, painstakingly created by Shale as he underwent the testing. The intricate work did more than simply hide the identity of the material though. It had taken every bit of talent that he'd had, but if someone were looking at it in just the right way they'd see that every line merged together to form the words Anima Verus. True soul, it was as close as he could come to what he meant. The blade was Shale, hiding its heart in plain sight, hiding his heart while proclaiming it boldly at the same time.

The testing, it had to be finished by the twenty second of August, Shale's tenth birthday. Grimm hadn't prepared him, that was the point. Shale needed to demonstrate his skill with everything he'd learned up to that point. He'd been observed through the entire process, not by his master either. Another smith had come from further north. He'd said very little to Shale beyond telling him his name Wulfgang, and explaining the test to the boy. Failure wouldn't be tolerated. Failure would mean that he would no longer be instructed by Grimm. In part that sounded okay, but it meant more than that. Had Shale been one of the clan, he'd have returned to his home likely to return to a life on a farm. As an outsider, Grimm owed him nothing, and Shale knew nothing was exactly what he'd get.

Passing the test would yield other benefits. He'd be given the mark of the clan, and allowed to choose a name. Shale already knew what he wanted to be called. A name long denied him, that he still held so dearly to. The name that he used to fall asleep with as he repeated it in his head. Inside the forge, Shale was confident while he worked. He learned well when he wanted to. Sometimes he didn't learn anything, the scars on his back, the ones that tore open sometimes even with Elle's attention were evidence enough of that. Those things had nothing to do with the work, that he picked up quickly. He had help though, the voices whispering things to him as Grimm worked clued him into the subtleties that the master smith used. Shale could imitate everything that he saw, perhaps more importantly he remembered them as well. He demonstrated that knowledge to Wulfgang, from tending the fires and tending the brine to making steel from the sum of its parts.

Shale's shirt was drenched as he presented the small knife to the visiting smith. Grimm had forbidden him from working shirtless as was his preference. It bewildered him as to the why of it, he'd never said a word about it if someone from Glanchester showed up to make a request. The old man accepted the offering, and took it out of the barn leaving Shale to clean up. He heard the door to the house close, a quick look outside revealed empty grounds. Wulfgang had gone to speak with Grimm, Shale didn't know if that was good or bad. It niggled at his mind as time went on, no matter how hard he tried to fill the time with chores. Finally the door sounded again an hour and a half later. Nobody appeared though, curiosity had him going to the door in time to see the older smith riding away. He hadn't even said goodbye, Shale had no idea what that meant.

Food came long before Grimm would show his face. Day gave him a smile, something genuine and maybe she was trying to tell him that he'd done well. She'd never reveal the truth through words. His plate was full, he'd never seen Grimm allow her to bring him this much before. This combined with the smile surely meant good things. Hope crept into his chest. He hated Grimm, but he needed him to continue to learn. Now at least he could force the man to call him by his name. Shale smiled back at Day secretly, he would relish that moment. He dug into the food quickly, Grimm cared little if he finished eating or not. If it wasn't done by the time the smith returned to him, it would never be finished. Not by Shale at least, the pigs would receive whatever remained. Shale could take that now, going hungry for a day or two would end once he showed up to Elle's.

Grimm appeared near midnight, in his hand he held the knife offering it out to Shale. "A fine piece, a little artsy for my taste but there's no harm in that for them that like it. What do you call it?"

Tentative fingers circled the bone handled hilt of the blade. Tiny things that the handle slid perfectly into. Shale had given up on ever seeing it again. It seemed he would be allowed to keep it. "My heart, I call it my heart." Shale's eyes swept over the knife, he could tell it had been used but part of him understood that had been part of the testing process. When he looked up, Grimm was at the forge, unbanking the coals.

"Turn your heart into a blade did you? Maybe you are to be a weapon smith then. Mine was called Gheară....fang." It was strange to watch the big man working the coals. Something inside of Shale was nearly offended that Grimm would dare to touch what he believed had become his.

An iron was pushed deep into the coals, Shale moved toward the bellows chain but Grimm shook his head at him. "This is the way it's done boy. Acknowledgement that you've passed the testing."

Of course, Shale understood now. Grimm was all about adhering to tradition. He watched the smith work curiously. "I passed then" I'll get the mark and be able to choose my name?"

"Aye boy. You passed." Grimm had made the fire excessively hot. It was far more than he'd need to work that bit of iron he'd put into the coals. Perhaps he was about to show Shale something new"

Grimm's head turned to Shale, the bellows still pumping. "I know what you're thinking, but that name is not one you'll be allowed. That was a name chosen for you by bearded little men. They are not clan, nor is the name."

No! He'd been so sure, so cocky. The big man grasped the handle of the iron, and slid it from the coals. Now Shale saw what was on the end of it. The branding iron held the likeness of a great wolf, in its mouth was the all seeing eye. The mark of the clan wasn't a mark at all, but a brand! "Take off of your shirt boy, the brand goes on your chest above your heart. When the iron touches you, it's okay to scream. Scream out your new name for the gods to hear."

Shale shook his head and backed away from the smith. "I don't want that on me." Stubbornly he refused to even touch his shirt with his hands. Grimm's eyes went from pleased, to insane. He bore down on Shale, who did the only thing he could think of. The knife came up before him. "This is my heart, my chest is empty. I don't need that."

"You would cut me boy?" The branding iron slashed down and out, knocking the knife from Shale's hand. He scrambled for it, and Grimm caught him a mere six inches from the hilt. He rolled Shale over and started to wrestle Shale's shirt up. Shale kicked and tried to bite the man, but his chest was bared and the iron was coming towards him. He grabbed hold of the wrist that held the branding iron and pushed it away as hard as he could, but Grimm quickly recovered yanking his arm from Shale's grip and pinning one of the boys hands beneath his knee.

Shale used his free hand, and grabbed the shaft of the iron, it burned his palm, but his hands were much tougher now than they ever had been before. He held on tightly, but the shaft slid through his grip anyway. Desperate, Shale gave a mighty shove. The white hot head of the iron was pushed away from his chest. A last minute reflex saved him from being blinded. He'd pushed the iron right towards his own face without realizing it. He lurched, and threw his head to the right just as the iron came down on his left cheek.

It was okay to scream, Grimm had said so, but no name moved across Shale's lips. The gods would not hear his name and welcome him into the clan. For now, Shale remained a nameless boy, huddled on a stone floor unable to touch the place that hurt, because that only made it worse. Grimm sat back, with a look of utmost horror on his own face. He said nothing to Shale, none of the usual comments for him as he had so many other times. The man didn't move, just staring at his hands with his mouth open.

Shale moved, he kicked his way free of Grimm, snatched up the little knife and ran from the forge. He passed the house, and drove straight into the thick forest running a path he knew like the back of his hand. There was only one place he knew to go, one person who could help. Gasping for breath he pounded at Elle's door, knowing that the woman was long since in bed. He did it anyway, until the door opened and Elle stood bewildered in the half light of the fire within. Shale practically bowled her over as he lurched forward, burying his face in her abdomen. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, they were the only words he could form.

Gnarled finger soothed their way through his hair. It felt good, at least until a fingertip found his cheek, and then the fire burnt once more across him. Shale's head whipped away from the touch, exacerbating the problem as his skin brushed along her hemp nightgown. Flames ignited across his face, Shale let go of her and spun away with a cry. "It burns....Elle it burns!" nothing would quench it, he bounced from one foot to the other, jumped up and down. Shale did anything he could think of to try and get coolness across his cheek, but even the wind felt like hot coals against his skin.

"Nico?" Shale barely heard the woman's voice, he certainly couldn't stop his moving. "Nicovală!" That stopped him dead, shame filled him for acting like a child. His chin fell to his chest, and would have stayed there if Elle hadn't put her hand beneath it. "By the great wolf..." The words followed a gasp from the old woman.

Shale's head was in Elle's lap as she put something on him. He didn't know what it was, but there was a numbness tingling its way across his face. "Can you make it disappear?"

"No, that was done with an enchanted iron. It'll heal, but nothing will ever make it fade." She spoke softly to him, she was tired he could hear it in her voice.

"I'm sorry."

"For waking me? I'm glad you did." Her hand patted Shale's head.


Shale rolled and sat up to look at her. He shook his head. He'd hated to have to wake her. "Not for that, no." He hugged her one last time before rising and staring at the floor. "I'm sorry that I won't be too pretty to look at anymore." Shale turned from her, even with his head down he could see her mouth pull taut and her chin start to quiver. He started for the door.

"You don't have to go back there." Elle realized what he was doing, and she was already standing and moving to cut him off.

"But I do have to, or this is all for nothing." Shale's fingers closed around the knife he'd made. He smiled at her as best his numb face would allow him and stepped through the door. "See you in a couple of days."

Just Breathe

Nothing you would take
Everything you gave
Hold me 'til I die
Meet you on the other side... ~ Pearl Jam

—————————————————
"Are they your favorite?" It was unseasonably warm, everyone said so. Even Shale had noticed, though this was just his fifth winter season in Glanchester. Mid February wasn't supposed to have people out in anything except the heaviest winter clothing they had. Even the night time temperatures were too warm for the season, despite the thirty degree drop from when the sun was at its peak. The weather had even prompted an early spring bloom. A lake of yellow had swamped the yard in front of Elle's small cabin. A waving sea of daffodils trumpeting the coming of spring, even if it was six weeks early.

Every spring an ever expanding blaze of yellow would rise, filling the air with their sweet fragrance. "Not really, they're more a statement than any like of mine." Elle was being evasive. She normally answered any of Shale's questions right out. This time there was more to it. She'd left him the opening, and maybe that was part of whatever lesson she had to teach today. She tasked him in this way quite often, finding ways to make him ask questions until he found the right one. What could it be this time, the right question.

He was sure it wasn't the obvious one, why daffodils if they aren't your favorite. That was probably close. Shale closed his eyes, and let the warm breeze blow across his skin and fill his nose with the scent of yellow. "I think I like them best of all..." There were plenty of flowers growing across the mountain village this week. Tulips in reds, pinks, purples, and yellows graced the front of many homes. Places that seemed to Shale, as he passed by on one job or another, to be much happier than his. "...because they aren't cowards. They don't look to the sky and pray. No, they look right at you and offer up their lips for kisses."

Elle laughed, it made Shale blush and fall over into the bed of flowers. "What do you know of kissin' Nicovală?"

Shale's eyes opened, and he looked up at a sky brilliantly blue. "Nothing I guess. Do you think I ever will?" His work took him many places within the little community. He'd seen a lot of the girls in passing, or working under their mother's keen eye. Some were quite pretty, others not so much, there seemed to be a point where they hit their most awkward and then turned stunning. He'd seen them, and pretty or not, they all had lips that he thought he might like to kiss. If only their eyes looked so inviting, or they didn't spoil his reverie by making warding gestures with their fingers. If only his smiles at them didn't make him look like hell in human form. They were like the tulips that graced their yards, pretty and afraid. It would take a daffodil to want to get close to him. The thought made him feel lonely. It made him close his eyes and try to feel the spin of the earth.

"Aren't you a bit young to be thinking that way?" Her voice was amused, he knew it was meant to make him laugh. He couldn't force one out, and there was a peculiar silence from Elle. "In any case, I don't think you'll have to worry about it. There's plenty that like a scar or two."

One or two, Shale started to do the math in his head trying to figure out exactly how many more than two he had. The heels of his hands pressed to his eyes and gave a hard rub as he tried to squeeze the thoughts from his head. He would think about it later, he always did in the early hours of the morning. The ones just after midnight when there was no one to listen to but himself.

"What's the message, Elle" The flower message, I mean." A small measure of success, one thought shoved away to make room for the original one. He'd managed, by not thinking about it, to come up with what he thought the right question was. Elle went silent again. She was quiet for a long time, coaxing Shale to drop his hands to the ground and push up to look at her. She wasn't looking at him. She was sitting with her chin on her knee, looking forward towards the river, though it was impossible to see through the forest. That's where her eyes were pointed at least. She didn't seem to be looking at anything, or moving for that matter. "Elle?"

Elle's head turned to him, almost like she'd forgotten he was there, even if her answer said otherwise. "Some answers need to be paid for, Nico. Are you willing to pay for the knowledge?"

Shale's brows fell a little, curiosity forcing a squint to his eye that could easily have been attributed to the sun's glare if pressed for the why of it. He nodded slowly to her. "I don't really have anything to pay with..."

"Your name, my price is your name." Elle cut him off, her voice snapping at him like the end of Grimm's whip. She'd snapped at him before, when he wasn't paying attention or was doing his best to procrastinate instead of studying. Shale bit his lip, though that did nothing to stop the quiver in his chin.

"I thought Georg...." Shale began again only to be cut off once more.

"No, Georg said nothing when he was here." Elle's look turned hard, she knew he was trying to get it out of her without giving up her price. "A secret for a secret Nico. That way we both have something to lose."

It was his secret, known to a few but most valuable to him. How long had it been since he'd said the word aloud" How long since he'd heard it with his own voice. Facing her, with a choice in front of him, the thought of sharing scared him. Knowlege costs, to know something, one must lose something in return. To know everything meant he would need to give up everything. His skin had gone clammy with the idea of giving up that to anyone. He'd trusted others, and they'd hurt him for it. He reached out for her hand, but she pulled it away.

"Make your choice." She wasn't cold to him, but her tone said enough. He wouldn't get another chance to know.

He wanted to know.

"Sh...Sh..." His body was trembling, like finishing the word would summon the hard fist of Grimm to put him to the ground again. "Sh...ale." The word was barely audible even to himself. The final L sound was felt by his tongue more than it was heard. He hadn't even realized he'd squinched his eyes closed until he felt her touch his hand. The sensation startled him so badly he raised his arms to protect his face.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Shale." Elle didn't try to touch him again. She spoke soothingly to him, it was enough for him to dare to look at her again. "Do you know what family of flower the daffodil comes from?"

She already knew that he did. She'd told him that and many things. Shale did his best to remember everything. He nodded giving a sniffle before answering. "Narcissus."

"I have not always been known as Elle an'allein, but you knew that already. I was once named Narcissa, after the spring flower. So the message is clear to those who knew me before. As with all of the clan, our names grow as things happen. My full name, before taking this new one was Narcissa liniei de Fenrir. Mama lui Georg, și Grimm. Bunica la Lumira și Isabella. Strabunicii la Șisturile." She was watching him as he worked his way through the language. Much of it was easy, of, and, to they were simple. The names were simple too, all save the last one.

Narcissa, of the line of Fenrir. Mother to Georg and Grimm. Once he'd gotten that far it was easier to infer some of the rest. His mother's name Lumira, but Șisturile was more difficult. Instinctively he knew that it was him.

Trust was something Shale didn't do easily. Trust made him vulnerable, and more times than not that led to pain. Mutual secrets might make it easier, for him sure, but for her too it seemed. She hadn't trusted him either, not with this. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before..."

"Hush now." Elle's hand covered Shale's mouth cutting off his words. "You think I don't understand Nico' I do better than most." It seemed to be an understanding between them. They would know, but neither would say the other's name. She rifled her fingers through his hair, and looked at him with those light blue eyes that saw everything despite the clouds that were growing across them. "It's not quite the same, your's was taken from you. I gave mine up to be here. But let me ask you this, you silly stubborn boy. If a person calls you by a name not your own, he hasn't changed who you are, so why does it matter so much what you tell the world to call you?"

She'd given up more than her name. The cost included title, possessions, it included family. She gave up everything, and took nothing from him, except the medallion at her chest. His gift to her, one that he'd yet to see her without even for a few hours. They sat there for a while, silent for the sake of silence. Perhaps she like him was reflecting on the things that were no more. Eventually Shale forced himself to move. "I need to get to the forge before he comes looking for me." There was no need to say who he was. "I'll grab some wood and take it inside before I go."

Shale had rolled to his knees when Elle shook her head. "No, you go. I can get a little wood. I'm old, not helpless." For all her claim, she held out her hand for him to pull her to her feet.

"If you won't let me do that, then take this." With the swift exuberance of youth, Shale bent low and plucked a single daffodil. He presented it to her with a smile that he hoped wasn't too frightening.

"Charmer....go now!" Elle was smiling when she took the freshly picked flower. She gave his shoulder a little shove to start him on the direction towards the forge, and Grimm.

The sound of Elle's effort to grab the wood came to him before he was even across the little clearing. "You sure you don't want me to help" I'm pretty strong you know." He was that, there were a lot of other boys his age around. They still towered over him, but at twelve Shale's shoulders, arms and chest made up the difference and then some. Another sound had him spinning around in a panic.

The logs fell from her arms, each hitting with an almost hollow clunk as they struck the ground. One or two still shifted, sliding along the length of another as gravity continued to pull them downward landing on the body of Elle. The flower was still in her hand, but she wasn't moving. Shale was by her side before he'd registered that he'd started to run. The logs were tossed away from her, any damage they'd done was invisible to his eye. What concerned him was the look of pain on her face. The way she clamped her left arm to her made him think something had happened to it, at first. Her breathing was erratic at best. Shale scooped her up, she was much lighter than he'd thought possible, and forced his way through the door. He laid her out on the bed, and stroked her hair soothingly.

"It's okay now, Elle....You just rest and, I'll take care of you." He tried to convince himself that the words were true. He came really close, but things were just a little bit off. The simper in his voice for one, and the sticky tracks of tears on his cheeks. When had he started crying?

"Don't leave me....Elle....Elle....Don't go where I can't follow."

Mayhem

Cruel intentions
Wind me in a spiral
I'm waiting to unravel
Twisted motives
Drive me in a circle
I'm dying to untangle ~ Haelstrom

Even the clan made allowances for some names, those famous or perhaps infamous depending on your point of view. For Shale it was the quote so often paraphrased by Elle that he had latched onto. The roots of education are bitter, but the fruit is sweet. Knowledge costs, that was all he'd needed to understand about it. Whether that would bear a sweet fruit or not he didn't know. So far it had only born more pain. Still, he took the name Aristotle, with a twofold reason. The first went back to Elle, and the little fox that was her familiar. Aris, did mean best and Shale felt that he was that despite how rough his life had become. The other reason, was to constantly remind Grimm of the philosopher's words.

The act of taking a name, or in Shale's case several names, was like so many things in the clan overly complicated. He'd needed to stand before the elders, the hand of Grimm on his shoulder like a loving mentor. Nobody believed it for a moment, but truth seemed to matter less than the ritual itself. He held his head high as he spoke, the nods and murmurs of the six men sitting before them a grim sort of acceptance to his use of something not quite clan. As dissatisfactory as that name was for them, it wasn't quite Shale either. It was more of who he wanted to be, and less of who and what he was. He wasn't done yet, and it was Grimm's job to announce that. Had it been anyone else, the big smith would have been seated at the table. It was likely he would have prefered that spot to the one he held now. Strange thing about that would be that the Mentor was the more important position, only a step below the one being named. Then again, it meant standing next to Shale, an admission by proximity of the things he'd done.

Shale, now Aristotle, did not state his second choice for a name. To do so would only confuse matters. Instead he stated "I wish to be called the name of the river that flows into Abaddon, and past Sheol." The men before him shifted in their seats, sitting upright and noting the name Kruger in their manifest. A good strong clan name they'd agreed, and stated as he had it would not be confused with the potter for whom the river's name had come. There was more to it in his mind, he'd told Elle long ago that the river was constantly angry. Inside, Shale had become a true reflection of that. Angry at his confines, at the obstacles placed in his path and eager to destroy them all in his wrath. That was the part for him, the rest was because it made him feel just a little closer to her.

For his final request, Shale took a variation of an'allein. It meant to walk alone, and he did feel alone. More than that he felt lost, the very act of choosing a name made him that. It made Shale, the boy who'd come here with Grimm, lost. Grumble about his choice they did, even Grimm's grip tightened vice like on his shoulder. They wouldn't change his mind. He would now be Aristotle, also known as Kruger, also known as Allen, and the proclamation brought the most ironic quirk to the corners of his mouth. "I am, who I have been created to be. All that I was is gone, lost to time and memory." If only those words rang true, Shale still hid inside of him, huddled in a dark corner chanting his name like words of power. Nicovală, still wrapped itself around the boy, keeping him safe and stiffening Aristotle Kruger Allen's resolve. They'd given him what he'd asked for, grudgingly welcomed him to a clan that he knew would treat him no differently that it had when he was nameless. They'd given him more, informing him that Elle had seen to it that her place and everything in and around it went to him. He'd have prefered to have her back. Some things were just not possible.

—————————————————

It was hard to tell which was more uncomfortable, the knee in his back, or the violent yank to his hair. The difficulty for Kruger came not from the pain, he'd endured much worse in his time, but from the blade at his throat. He'd been having such a good dream, despite his position on the floor of the cabin, though the details were less than shadows now. It probably didn't matter anyway, the good usually only lasted until his eyes opened.

"What did you do to the woman who lives here?" There was a heavy growl to the clearly feminine voice next to his ear,it did little to hide the strangeness of her accent. In a place where every word spoken sounded like torn fabric, even the heat in her voice couldn't make her sound like anything less than the sigh of a breeze through silk.

He said nothing, even as the blade's edge started to bite into him. The sting brought an odd longing to him, a small smile moving across his face. Part of him wanted to lean into it harder, to join the dead that he so wanted to see once more. It would be so easy, and no one would care in the end. He could feel Elle's disapproval, and knew she would say it was too easy and completely out of his character. She'd be right too.

"The woman, Elle, talk now, or be silent forever!" Her knee pressed deeper, and the pull on his head increased.

His hand went to the wrist holding the knife,and pushed. He must have moved faster than she'd expected because somehow he wasn't gurgling in his own blood. She pushed against his grip, but was no match for him. Still he said nothing, rolling instead against her knee and pulling her arm until she collapsed and he was over her, the knife arm across her torso and pressed harmlessly to the floor. Her eyes, emerald green so deep it almost hurt to look at them, were wide with surprise but not fear. If anything he'd have called it rage, and he was at a loss of how she managed to make both so clearly visible. Her hand was still in his hair, pulling harder now than at any point before. It didn't have the desired effect, Kruger pulled right back, tearing free of her grip at the loss of a handful of strands.

"Feeling better I see. As I told you several times already, she's gone, buried outside. You were feverish, so I can forgive you not remembering, but it's not my favorite thing to say. I'd appreciate it if this time you do. Now, stop struggling or you'll open that cut up and we'll have to start this all over again." She had been fighting him, twisting to try and break free of him. Had she been whole, it was likely she would have.

Her hair was dark as a raven's wings if tangled, and lackluster. Her skin was pallid, almost sickly, though not unexpected considering what she'd been through. The splotchiness was still an improvement from what it had been. Her lips were pouty, Kruger found his eyes drawn to them only to embarrassedly tear his gaze away when she caught him looking.

"I'm going to let you up, but first you need to let go of the knife." He didn't look away from her until he heard metal hit the floorboards. Quick fingers plucked it from reach and threw it across the room. It crossed his mind that he should have kept it, but then she'd be no different than he had. A victim with no reason to trust.

Her eyes held something else now, horror. Not the kind that came from fear, but the kind that was born of disgust. He averted his eyes from her, it was a look he got often and it ached almost as badly as the memory.

Pushing up from the floor, he got a bare glimpse of a bare hip; that was when the slap came. "How dare someone like you touch me?" Venom, a verbal attack that really meant nothing to him beyond knowing that she felt revulsed by the prospect of his touch.

"And what the hell am I wearing" It's coarse, cheap fabric makes me itch...."

"It's the best I have! If you don't like it, take it off!" Her hand print burned across his cheek and was quickly followed by a second at his outburst.

He gritted his teeth and walked away from her. "You're right, I should have just let you bleed to death in the rain. I'm sure that's preferable to being touched by me." What did she expect out of him' Venomous words yield poisonous results. He felt bad for letting her get to him, if not that, then for giving in to the urge to battle back.

"Where are my clothes?" Her superior tone smacked against Kruger's back. He bit his tongue and pointed toward the door leading out.

"What's left of them is out there, hanging. I was going to try to mend them while you were sleeping." She moved quietly towards the door, at his direction. He could feel her looking at him, as though he would try to stop her from leaving.

Had I known this was how you were, I'd never have brought you in. The thought was a lie, when he saw her laying in the woods his first and only instinct had been to get her where it was warm and safe. He'd have missed her entirely if Aris hadn't darted across his path, and nearly tripped him. He still saw the fox now and again, never knowing what kept it from moving on. He hadn't expected her to be badly cut, or feverish with infection. She'd been so hot he felt it through is own clothing. He'd gone to the apothecary, he didn't need to ask for anything, no one would suspect his needs were for anyone but himself. They all knew the things that happened. Doing something about it, to them, seemed to mean giving him the means to survive. She'd been far lighter than he expected especially considering the armor she wore. Plated leather, a solid looking helmet, decorated in filigree by a very delicate hand. He'd spent a good deal of time admiring that, and the sword that had been attached to her hip. He'd had the good sense to keep that hidden. He was pouring a cup of water for himself when the door opened and closed once more.

"The shirt is ruined, so I'll be keeping this one." Her voice cut the air again, had he really thought it sounded like silk and wind earlier" Harpy was more like it. "I'll also require you to fetch me some, what is that....water" Quickly, slave."

Someone like you... those words now had an entirely different meaning to Kruger. Slowly he turned back to the pitcher, pouring out another ceramic cups worth. He carried it carefully across the room and held it out, but when she reached for it he threw the contents into her face. "I'm no one's slave, that includes you. Use those prettily pointed ears, and listen close. You may call me," Shale "Aristotle, or..." Shale "Kruger..." It had been over a year since his naming, and still he found it hard not to say his given name. That likely had a lot to do with having very few people who talked to him at all beyond what he was in the market for, or whatever job they needed him to perform.

Her hands went to her face, wiping the water from eyes that had gone moon wide and were accompanied by a mind melting shriek. Her hand curled into fists, but Kruger caught her wrists in his hands again. "I'll let you hit me again, but then it's my turn to hit you."

"Do you know who I am?" Since the shrieking hadn't managed to do anything, the elven woman moved to menacing tones again.

"I know exactly who you are, Aludariel Sun'vael. The entire village knows who you are, Wind Cutter. I'm the only one who knows where you are, because I don't know if the people offering reward are the ones that tried to cut you in half." It had taken a day for the men to arrive, less than that for rumors to wash through Glanchester like the river coming over its banks. He let her arms go and walked away to pick the cup up from where he'd dropped it.

"Something else I know, you should consider using a bit more water....and some soap, because frankly you smell offensive." The cup was slammed onto the table, and adding injury to insult Kruger pulled a washbasin out and a bar of soap. "I hope you'll take advantage, I've got work to do." He stomped into his shoes and walked out the door, leaving her to be as loud or quiet as she wanted. He'd only considered it a mistake after he heard the pair of ceramic mugs explode.

Broken Arrow

Ah can you see what I see
Can you cut behind the mystery
I will meet you by the witness tree
Leave the whole world behind ~ Robbie Robertson

——————————————————

Kruger stared at the shards before him, it had been a sword once. He'd warned her that there was something wrong, but Aludariel challenged him. She never stopped challenging him. He hated it, the constant aggravation of having to prove anything he said was true. She ridiculed his delvings into the books that Elle left for him, the ones she'd made him study with the numbers and complex ways of putting them all together. The girl, for he'd come to realize that was what she was even if she were older than he by decades, managed to push him from his own home often. She healed quickly though, grew stronger everyday. He'd even taken her to his favorite swimming hole. There'd been no arguing that day, just the heat of the sun and a lot of splashing. She was like two different people sometimes.

He hated her.  He missed her.

Three weeks he'd managed to keep the girl secret and safe. How was a mystery, surely his voice had carried all the way to the village. He didn't miss those self satisfied smirks she wore whenever she'd get under his skin, or the way she'd laugh when he was so angry that he couldn't form words. Except that her face was pretty when it smiled like that, and her laugh was almost musical. Sometimes it was like nothing had changed, the air moved through the cabin touching everything. He would still look up and expect to see her there pointedly ignoring his existence. It was almost like that, but there was no form on his bed, quickly looking away when he was about to speak. She dismissed him with a glance, and every time it happened he could only hear saying someone like you, again. At least someone had been there, now he could only stand to be in the place when he needed somewhere to study.

His fingers traced the broken edges of elven forged steel. It was light, elegant and he'd known from the moment she'd first unsheathed the thing to practice that it didn't belong to her. He watched her, masking it in his splitting of fresh logs. She hadn't noticed, far too focused on the forms and practice. It was a trick of the light that had him thinking she would look his direction occasionally. Kruger kept his head down whenever his eyes were fooled that way. He obviously wasn't focusing enough on his own task. That frustrated him too, she didn't even have to pay attention to him and he was mad. At least there was some satisfaction that he hadn't noticed her stop. It was overshadowed by not knowing she'd moved close again. She didn't touch him, and it seemed like she took great pains to do so as little as possible. His next log appeared before him with her hands attached to it.

"I figured I should help you, because you'll never get done standing there gawking at me all day." Aludariel's lips formed that all too familiar smirk.

"Thank you." He didn't growl the words, he always talked that way. "Have you not had that sword long" I....there's just something off..."

"Do you doubt my skill?" There it was, he'd offended her. She stood with one hip jutting to the side, pointedly standing right in the swinging path of his ax.

Kruger gave a small sniff, maybe it wasn't so bad a feeling to get under her skin. He'd been watching her, no gawking, surely she didn't think that. He caught himself looking at her over emphasized hip, and jerked his eyes to her face. "Not at all. You've obviously trained very hard." He gave a noncommittal shrug. "There's just something not quite right."

"Oh, one of those. I'm a girl, so I should use a woman's weapon, like a bow." She turned in a huff, and started to storm towards the cabin. "Little boys shouldn't talk about things they know nothing about."

"Do I look like an idiot to you?" Her laugh convinced him that he never should have asked that question. "First of all, a bow is not a woman's weapon. Those who use them are extremely powerful through the shoulders and chest. You have nice...You're just not that bulky." No, he was definitely digging himself deeper. If the stamp of her foot didn't say it, the flame infused look she shot at him over her shoulder did.

"Typical, you all seem to like your women to have powerful chests." Indignation, or was she hurt'

"It's too big for you. That sword, it wasn't made for you. Bring it here, and I'll show you what I mean." Kruger held his breath and counted the pounds of his heart in his chest while she decided if she were more upset, or curious. He was actually surprised when she turned around and came back to him.

"May I?" He held out his hands, palms facing the sky. She looked at them like they were beneath her, and Kruger gritted his teeth against the growl he felt coming. "Fine, just put your hand on the damn hilt!"

Aludariel's expression became even more dubious when he shouted at her. It was written in her eyes that she would make him regret it. That was probably true too. She complied, her distrust outweighed by her curiosity perhaps. Kruger reached out and pulled the sheath from the weapon, taking it with him. "If it's not too much to ask, just do what you were doing before." The head of the ax thunked its way into an unsplit log, and there it remained.

"Are you sure you're not just trying to look at my ass again?" Her smirk returned when his mouth opened and closed a few times. No, he hadn't been planning to, but now he wasn't sure he could keep his eyes off of it in order to watch what her hands were doing.

Say something witty. "No." Good job, that really got her.  His own internal voice was now being just as sarcastic with him as the she elf. "I mean! Ugh, you make it so hard to think around you." Kruger watched her smirk deepen, and the delicate arc of an eyebrow. "Can we just do this?"

"Boys who try to go too fast get nowhere, but at least they do it quickly." Aludariel said the words over her shoulder, her lithe body swaying gracefully back to where she'd been practicing earlier.He hadn't asked her to, but maybe she just felt more comfortable there.

Kruger's eyes were now drawn to exactly the place she'd accused him of wanting to see. "If you don't want me looking, then why do you walk that way?" He said the words under his breath, but the snicker which came from her said she'd heard anyway.

She was still laughing when she began to move through the forms. Aludariel was so quick on the transition between offense and defense, that Kruger could barely see the path of the weapon she wielded. He wasn't looking at the sword though, his attention was focused on her, or more specifically, her hands. "Stop! Don't move, not until you tell me what you're trying to do with that outside hand at least."

Kruger stood and made his way across to her. He grabbed her lower hand, despite knowing that she didn't like to be touched, or maybe just touched by him. "There, right there. What are you doing?"

"I'm moving for a two handed strike, obviously." She wasn't breathing hard, but beads of sweat were forming across her skin. She was probably doing that on purpose too, anything to distract him from what he was trying to say.

"There's only one problem. That isn't a two handed sword, you just have small hands." To emphasize his point, he put his hand over hers to show her how much better the hilt would fall into his grip. "Someone my size I think, or maybe a little taller." That fit a large number of people really. "I may not know half the things you do, but there are some things I know better. If you were to ask me for a weapon, I'd never suggest that for you."

"It's none of your business, but yes it belonged to my father." There was enough heat in her words that he thought she'd try to pull away from him. Maybe she forgot to try'

"May I please hold it for a few minutes" I never bothered to look at it before." He'd had almost no interest in it until his discovery that Aludariel was an elf. He'd wanted to ask, but things kept getting in the way. He wouldn't see it so closely again for days.

She gave him the weapon, letting him take it into the sun to get an even better look. That of course would only be the beginning. There were things that couldn't be seen, layers to the metal that were impenetrable, unless you could hear them the way he did. His fingernail flicked the flat of the blade, setting it to vibrating. That was when he knew there was a problem. A fissure had opened up in the depths of the metal. It ran nearly half the length of the blade from the hilt. "What have you been hitting with this" It needs work, there's something wrong inside of it. I can fix it, and leave those interesting little spells in place too."

Aludariel bristled at the words, accusing him of trying to demean the work of elvish smiths because he was racist, or perhaps just jealous. "Fine, when it breaks, and it will break Audariel, I may not be able to repair it. I promise, that at the least I won't say I told you so."

She wouldn't talk to him for another hour, which in itself was kind of a victory. Normally it would take him leaving to work the forge at night and returning before she was ready to acknowledge that he existed. Even that really happened by accident. Kruger had done a good job of never being shirtless in front of her. Even when they'd been swimming, he wore some kind of shirt no matter how odd she thought him for it. He wasn't even really clear why he did that, it had never mattered with anyone else. He'd left her outside, looking at her sword as though she might see what he was talking about. There should have been time for a quick bath, just enough to cool the skin and chase away the scent of his efforts with the wood pile. He'd just began to pull it away from him when she walked through the door. He'd pulled it back into place, but not before she'd seen a hint of the mess on his back.

"You're not that shy at the forge." She was using the soft voice again, the one that made him want to do things for her. He bit his lip, and grabbed the edge of the table in his hands trying to drive that urge from him.

"You've been spying on me?" He caught her wince as he looked over his shoulder at her. Maybe he'd used the wrong word, but that's how it felt.

"I needed to know more about the person who had me in their power. I don't know why you let that man talk to you the way he does. You don't let me." She was moving, at least this time he had her in sight. There was no surprise when her hand found the hem of his shirt and lifted it upwards. "Off with it, you stink."

Even with the laugh at what had become an odd joke to them, it took everything Kruger had not to flinch at the light touch on his torso. He could barely breathe as the pads of her fingers traced the interlocking scars on his skin. "Did you need me to leave, so you can freshen up?" He could do his bathing in the river, where the water would be blessedly cold. Water fell into the basin he'd prepared, squeezed from the cloth he'd planned to use.

"What are you doing?" His question was answered silently, as the warm cloth fell onto his shoulder.

"Tell me about this." Aludariel hadn't answered his question at all. Sometimes it was like he wasn't even speaking to her. It did present him with an opportunity, though.

"I'll tell you, but knowing has a price. You haven't told me what happened to you, or even why you're here." The nearest elvish lands were as far away from here as his home had been. Her nod was a surprise, but a good one. He talked, answering her questions felt like the only way he could distract himself from the feel of her fingers. It felt good, and that scared him. Nothing that felt good ever lasted, he'd find some way to mess it up. It felt good to talk too, he'd never done that, not even with Elle. In his defense, Elle had been there to see it. She'd have listened, if he'd have talked to her.

Kruger didn't look at her as he talked, certain that he'd lose the little bit of control he had over his feelings. It was like the girl was trying to wash away the memories, a thought that barely made sense to him. He was sure she'd laugh at it, even more sure that it would make her quit, something that happened all too soon anyway. It was her turn anyway. The cloth was left in the basin, he went to find another shirt, listening to her quietly.

She told him about the Northern nation of half men. Not like Kruger's parents, but men who were even more alien and decidedly aggressive. That they were massing for what seemed like a push to the south through her homeland. The band she was part of seeking alliances, and how they'd been caught by these half men, and the shadow creature that seemed to be driving them into their frenzy. How it had withstood multiple strikes from her and left her for dead. The band splintered, but she'd managed to crawl to the place he'd found her. She knew Elle, had been sent from Georg to deliver a message, one that no longer mattered since the woman was dead. "It explains why there's been no word."

It had been the most words she'd strung together at once since he'd found her. He could have gotten lost in the sound of her voice when it wasn't being acerbic. It wouldn't last, already the sky was starting to darken. He'd leave soon to fulfill his duties, and she'd do whatever she did while he was gone. Much of the time it seemed to be pouring over the handwritten notes from the cabin's previous occupant. He didn't know what he thought about that. He'd been unable to force himself to do the same, even though there was no one who would stop him. For him it was enough to keep to the schedule she'd set for him. Learn as much as he could, something made more difficult without her there to ask questions when he got stuck.

Reluctantly he made ready to go, thinking that perhaps she was going to come with him as he stepped outside. He'd been just about to ask that when Aris shot out off the trees, a red and white blur that drew his attention half a moment before the forest became alive with movement. Twelve figures emerged from the forest, running to engage the two of them. If it hadn't been for a hail of arrows the men, half men Kruger could see it now, would have had them. If he were forced to choose, he'd have said half lion, what skin was visible beneath their armor was coated with velvety fur. It wasn't quite the right color though, and he couldn't really see their faces well, just enough to note that their teeth were more predator than anything else. They varied in size, but one thing they all had in common was they were powerfully made. He only had a moment to take in those details, behind the dozen or so corpses that now littered his front yard an immense armored creature rose. It materialized out of the shadows, and though it was at the mercy of another barrage of arrows, they simply bounced off of the thing doing no damage.

Aludariel reacted first, she was so fast he could have marveled at her for hours. The sheath came away from the weapon that wasn't really hers, and she moved to face the dark armored knight. She shot in low, avoiding the things sword though he could see how her injury slowed her. Quick as she was, her weapon was even faster. She was moving at twice the speed she'd practiced, her sword ringing down and doing as much damage to the thing as the arrows had. The archers appeared, four tall elves, all of them racing in order to distract the thing from her. It was good that they had, because the thing brought down its massive sword at Aludariel's well timed parry. Her sword shattered at the impact, leaving her armorless and at the mercy of the thing.

It had only been heartbeats, but Kruger saw that and charged for the creature. "Boy!" A shout from the side caught his attention. The voice was Grimm's, looking up saved Kruger's life. The big smith had heaved an ax, it's handle whirling around the head like some strange sort of solar system. With less than a second to react to this new intrusion, Kruger's hands reached to accept the handle from the air and started his own deadly spin. The ax's head, once the center of its own galaxy was pulled out of it with all the force he could muster in his body. He angled the cutting edge upward toward the unprotected underarm of the black armored knight, realizing that the weapon he was wielding wasn't a weapon at all unless of course you were a log that needed to be split.

An unearthly shriek filled the air as the ax head bit deep into....nothing. There was nothing holding the armor together. A pauldron, complete with rebrace, vambrace and gauntlet ripped loose from the thing. They hit the ground with a hollow clatter and promptly pulled themselves apart, returning to the shadow from which they'd arisen. The entire creature was being pulled apart in the same way, lucky for Kruger as the handle in his hand was now headless. The wood had splintered leaving shivers of it on the grass and everyone looking at him. He put his hand out to Aludariel, who had dropped to the ground in an attempt to avoid the sword that never fell. She took it, but the moment she was on her feet she ran to embrace one of the elves leaving Kruger to watch silently.

"Val....I thought you were gone, all of you. You wouldn't believe the things I've had to endure." The embrace was returned. Val was tall, though Grimm stood well over him. It hurt to watch, Kruger averted his eyes, moving to the bits of metal that once were a sword. Of the ax head there was no sign. It was as gone as the armored nothing.

The pieces were gathered, and quickly delved by Kruger. He saw her feet then, refused look up at her even when she put her hand to his head. "I can still fix it." He projected more confidence than he really had over the matter.

"Impossible, there's no coming back from that." The voice was new, and could only belong to Val.

"Captain Raakshas, if the boy says he can fix it. He can." Kruger would never have expected to hear that from Grimm. It pulled his attention from Aludariel's legs and to the disapproving look on the big smith's face. Whether that was aimed at him, or the elf was a mystery.

"And the cost?" Valerian Raakshas, Captain to the guard of Aludariel, Wind cutter, and Ban-iarla to the high court cut right to the crux of the matter. Still, Kruger knew that the blade had belonged to her father. He also knew that no one would even attempt to put it back together if he didn't.

"Job like that, it's gonna co..." Grimm knew too, exactly what it was that Kruger was offering to do. He needed to stop the man.

"Take me with you." He didn't look at either man as he spoke, his eyes were on Aludariel's face. "Take me with you and I'll make it whole again. I'll make it yours." His eyes pleaded with her in a way he'd never be able to bring his mouth to say.

There was silence, other than the grumbling of Grimm beneath his breath. "How long will it take you?" Her voice had an edge, he knew it wasn't for him, not this time. She spoke so that the others could have no say in the matter.

Kruger looked at the shattered remnants in his hands. "A month, no more than that."

"I'm sorry, we can't wait a month. I have to travel North to visit the tower. We'll be leaving today." Kruger wished she'd just reached into his chest, and pulled out his heart. It was still true, things that felt good did not last.

"Be sure that both it, and you are ready when I return!" Her voice was hard, commanding, but the touch of her fingers on his broken cheek belied tenderness. Two different people, in one confusing package.

They'd left even before the sun had sunk beneath the horizon. Aludariel had taken his best shirt, itchy or not she needed something and wasn't willing to stop. He wouldn't discover until much later that she'd taken another for herself, though what she could want with the soiled one she'd forced him to remove he had no idea. There were fresh ones in the little dresser. She'd let him sense her for a couple of hours, something he knew she could have stopped whenever she chose. In fact, one moment she was there, and the next he couldn't see her. He could still see Valerian and the other three. He could even see that they still rode in a configuration that surrounded her protectively. It was perhaps, her final little laugh at him. Now, she was three days gone, and he was trying to figure out how to remake her sword before she returned.

Epilogue

No Leaf Clover

Then it comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel
Is just the freight train coming your way......
It's coming your way
It's coming your way......
Here comes ~ Metallica


Life had grown complicated, he hadn't realized it as it was happening. Somewhere across the years it was no longer possible just to pick up and go, but go is exactly what Kruger had to do. If it were simply for him, he'd never consider it. It wasn't for him though, the small hand in his belonged to Nikolai. If not for him, Kruger wouldn't have left his business behind, wouldn't have said goodbye to friends. He'd have stayed where he belonged, continued in his semi-complicated existence. The boy wore his curse. It wasn't something visible. To anyone looking, Niko was just a beautiful little boy with dark expressive eyes and a penchant for getting into scrapes. Only a few had seen the fevers come on, and known them to be unnatural. An accident of breeding, an ability so thoroughly blocked that Kruger worried the boy would one day burn himself up. It wasn't his fault, and for a brief time he'd been able to help Nikolai through them. He understood fire, and all of its wants boiled down to one thing, it wanted to consume everything until there was nothing left. Much as he didn't want to be here, Nikolai was far more important to him.

The gangway thudded to the dock, Kruger and Niko started for it, the former hitching his pack a little higher on his shoulder. Down river the stone obelisk still stood, as did the carving he'd done so many years ago. He'd had to read the words for Niko, and when asked simply say he guessed it was someone's name. The red bearded captain met them on the dock, stopping their progress. "We leave tonight, just before the sun sets. Should I reserve space for you?"

"Ready space for three, but at this point I'd expect only two." Kruger started to push past the man, when he felt the captain's hand on his forearm.

"I thought....well with you coming back here with your boy, that you'd be returning alone." His eyes searched Kruger's face. It had taken him several days before he could let his eyes linger there.

"After what I went through here, why would you ever believe that I'd leave my son behind?" Kruger tightened his grip on Nikolai, as though someone would come by and try to take the boy right from his grasp.

"Things are different, people are different. You'll see." The captain released him, when Kruger turned a heated gaze toward him.

"Am I supposed to believe the man who betrayed me first, Petra" For days you lied to me." Petra had the decency to look like he'd been slapped.

"You weren't clan then....now..." He stopped, when the heated gaze of Kruger turned menacing.

"What, Petra" What am I now?" Kruger switched hands with Niko and shouldered his way past the raider captain and stalked his way down the dock doing his best to not, in his anger, make it hard for Nikolai to keep up. His senses weren't anything like the first time he'd come to Glanchester. Knowledge had costs, and one of those had been his free communing with the elements. He was sure he'd heard Petra utter the word, scary.

It was a fair trade, because within the forge they were all still there. Quite honestly, he didn't miss it the rest of the time. It had gone gradually, a gift of sorts, he could only imagine what his state would have been if everything were suddenly silent. Petra had said things were different, here and there it was true, but more was still the same. Another lie from the man wouldn't have surprised the smith, and at this point he didn't care. He remembered enough to know where things, and places were. Kruger pulled his hood up over his head far enough to hide his face in shadow before pushing through a door.

The New Road, restaurant had been here before Kruger had first come to the village. Where it stood had once been the new road, but now it was simply an old road with other old roads intersecting it here and there. The front window was still clean enough to be almost invisible, the tables were still thick hardwood stained dark, and benches instead of chairs ran along each side of them. He shuffled Niko into a table, letting him have the window to look out. There was nothing out there he wanted to see anyway.

Their entrance hadn't gone unnoticed. It was more like open looks and low murmurs to leaned heads. A tall, yet pleasantly plump, woman stepped to their table and gave Niko a little wave. "Hi there cutey."

Nikolai of course preened at the attention. The strawberry blonde woman wasn't unattractive. Kruger might have found her more so if he didn't remember how she used to curl her fingers into warding gestures whenever he was close by. "Welcome to The New Road, I'm Zarah..." Yes that was her name, the proprietor's niece. Then again everyone was related round here. "...and I'll be your server. May I suggest our special today' I can read them to you if you'd like."

Kruger shook his head beneath his hood. "No....just if Nisha's back there, tell her I need two of her backdoor stews, and a bit of hard bread for one of them. Get the boy a big glass of milk too. I'll just stick with water." He could feel her scrutiny now. It was all he could do to stay expressionless. "And Zarah, one more thing. Could you have her bring it out. I always pay a little more for the trouble."

Zarah waited a few moments, like she wanted to say something but couldn't find the nerve. Her departure only served to bring more looks. The woman didn't simply walk away, and go to the kitchen. She backed a couple of small steps, then moved hurriedly towards the swinging door. Nisha was not short, though Zarah had a few inches on her. But where Zarah was pleasantly plump, Nisha was all woman, and all business too. She practically stormed from the kitchen making her way straight towards Kruger and Niko, and daring anyone to stand in her way.

She stood at the end of the table and wrapped it hard, directly in front of Kruger. "Look here mister, if you want backdoor stew, then you ought to be at the back door. I'm only obliging this because of the boy, an how nasty it is outside. An I ain't carryin' no food for you, I'm too old, and carried more'n my share to folks like you! And jokin' bout payin' extra ain't funny....no sir it ain't funny at all."

Backdoor stew, that's what it was called. In reality, it was what was left at the end of the day. Nisha would set the pot outside the back door for those who were having problems, and too proud to say it. For Kruger it was something else, he'd not been able to come and dine inside. Nisha would always slip him a little hard bread to go with it. "Maybe you've a hinge to mend, I hear a powerful squeak coming from that door of yours." Especially if he managed to fix something while he ate.

If any of the patrons had been subtle before, Nisha's tirade had drawn every gaze quite openly. It had also silenced the entire place. Her hand went to his hood and pulled it roughly from his head. Kruger tried to avert his gaze from her, but her meaty fingers grasped his chin and tugged his head around. The brand becoming visible to her, and anyone on that side of his face. Dishes hit the floor, Zarah was one of those with the clearest view which unfortunately meant that their meal was now littering the dining room floor. Nisha wasn't far behind, though she didn't hit the floor. She sank slowly to the bench, looking weak and suddenly silent. Her eyes drifted from Kruger, to Nikolai.

"I see it now, I surely do. Zarah! Hurrah up an get that cleaned, then get these two....Oh never you mind, I'll get it myself, don't be asking for help to get that up neither." She started to push her way to her feet when Niko reached over and tugged at her sleeve.

Nisha's eyes went round as saucers. "Escuse me....Lady Nissa. I'll help you carry, because I am big now, and if you carry for my da. I'll carry for me....since I don't eat so big of stuff as he does."

"Lady Nisha, am I now" I do not let strangers into my kitchen, no matter how knightly." Nisha regarded Nikolai shrewdly.

"I am Nikolai Aristotle Vevea-Allen. You are lady Neeesha." He sounded out the woman's name, giving her a questioning look, then the brightest of grins when she nodded. "You should call me Niko, because my friens call me Niko, and my ma an da. An if you do! Then we're friens, not strangers, an I can help!"

There was logic, and then there was Nikolai logic. It was flawed, and if put to it would fall apart. Perhaps she knew that to do so would break his heart. Maybe she couldn't stomach doing that, because she relented. Niko jumped up to stand on the bench, his little bottom doing a boogy dance as he hissed out the word. "Yessss!" He jumped from the bench, and hurried around to Nisha grabbing hold of her hand and skipping along beside her, looking up and starting off in a Niko chatter barrage.

On the way, Nisha leaned over and whispered to a man who abruptly left. The rumor mill had begun, but Georg would hear that he was here. He'd come, or Kruger would go to him. In the meantime, there was food. Nikolai carefully carrying a plate of something that was definitely not backdoor stew. There were purple streaks at the corners of his mouth and a look like he had a secret he wasn't supposed to tell. His voice carried above the din that had risen once more in the wake of discovery.

"But my stister says that I'm gonna be awfulensibly purdy when I grow up. Which sounds okay, but purdy is for girls. She's not my borned stister. Me an da found her in a house on the beach and dopted her. She's so tall, an purdy, and people make pictures of her in nice clothes doing things like..." Nikolai's little body twisted and bent, and he looked back over his shoulder and Nisha and did his best to wink and bite his lip at the same time, but couldn't quite get the two to happen together. The sight just made Nisha burst into a fit of laughter.

Niko wrestled his plate onto the table, then stood up and hugged Kruger, whispering to him. "I'm not sposeta tell you, but I had pie."

——————————————-

It almost wasn't fair watching Nikolai as he slowly wound the indomitable Nisha intricately around his finger. The boy didn't do it intentionally. He was himself, and it just happened. Kruger's mouth tipped upward at the corners with pride even if it felt jaded by his own experiences in this place. The bubble burst abruptly, Georg had returned home rather than venture to The New Road. Sure he'd given word that Kruger and Niko should go there. The smith couldn't help but feel it was just another slap to his face, especially when he'd been told where to find Georg's place.

Niko had done his hop step along the path, tugging at Kruger's hand every now and again, like he knew where he was going. Kruger knew, he stood outside a door he'd been through a thousand times. There was an excited jerk to his arm. A look to his son showed him pointing towards the edge of the forest.

"Da! A fox!" He'd seen them before, Niko got excited anytime he saw wild animals. "It's so close! I bet I could get closer to it!"

"Aris?" Wishful thinking surely. Foxes didn't live this long, but maybe some offspring of offspring" Still the animal took a few slow steps forward, nose working in their direction. It's ears twisted ever so slightly one direction and another. He got to his knees, holding his arms out as he'd done many times when Elle was still alive. The fox moved in short bursts, pausing and taking a few more steps. Niko was getting over excited, and Kruger had to give him calming shushes, telling him to wait and see. The animal's nose touched Kruger's arm, it's head was kept low promising a good bite if this was some kind of trick.

"Aris." He tried again, and the fox's head came up swiftly, it turned on his tail running straight into the woods only to rush back a moment later. It leaped and bounded off Kruger's chest, taking off once more excitedly. The little fox stopped eventually, pausing in its run to look at him panting. Kruger took Niko's hand in his, spreading it out and holding his wrist down. It was the little fox familiar, he was sure of that now.

"This is Niko." Saying that suddenly felt strange to him in a way it hadn't for a long time. Aris drew close, sniffing the boy's hand, then proceeding to lick it. Niko's fingers were still sticky from the pie Nisha'd given him. "I'm going inside for a minute or two, Niko. Play with Aris. Don't let him wander."

"I won't!" Niko was released, and the boy took off like a shot, trailed by that red streak. Kruger hadn't said the last part for Nikolai. He knew Aris was a girl, it was she who wasn't supposed to let Niko wander. Kruger chuckled as Aris darted in front of the boy when he got too close to the trees. Niko fell, and the fox was right there trying to clean the blueberry from the boy's face.

Kruger watched until he was certain the arrangement would work, then he pushed through the door.

"It's rather rude to enter a man's home uninvited." The voice was deeper than he figured it would be considering the age of the one who spoke.

"I'd agree with you, if you weren't in my house without permission." Kruger watched Georg's gaze go to the front window and the boy out there. The old man's eyes weren't so piercingly blue now, they'd gone stormy since he'd last seen Georg.

"Someone had to watch over her. I figure it's a fair trade." He didn't look back when Kruger gave his unimpressed grunt. "Got yerself a new apprentice?"

"That would be new, since I don't even have an old apprentice. If he were my apprentice, what need would I ever have to bring him here?" Kruger wanted to look at his son out there, but he trusted the fox with Niko far more than the old man sitting at his table. It was his, a lot of the things in the little place were still technically his if he'd wanted to stake a claim.

"I see....I see. You'll be wanting him tested then. An apprenticeship if he passes." Georg passed a hand over his eyes, he looked tired, but that might have been a tear in his eye. Kruger stubbornly refused to believe that was possible.

"He'll pass your test, I took that test, remember" I don't just show up with a hope, and there will be no apprenticeships for Nikolai." Kruger's voice snapped across the gap between them. It was enough to make Georg rise to face him. He was old, but far from frail. Yes, he'd needed to push himself upward, but that seemed more like aching joints than weakness.

"Why come to me, if not to use my influence?" Georg looked frustrated at being spoken to that way in his own home.

"This isn't a bonding session, Georg. It's not a negotiation either. This is an ultimatum. If he passes your test, you decide to come with us. That or know you'll never hear from any of us again. Niko's returning to the family that loves him. I don't need you, he does." Kruger's words seemed to shock Georg. Now he was looking to the window again at Niko as the fox ran circles around him.

"I'll decide, only after I test him. Is he ready?" The old man's fingers grasped the back of a mismatched kitchen chair.

"For the test' Of course he's ready. For you? He may even be ready for that too. I'll need a few minutes with him, then I'll send him in." Kruger turned from the man he'd once called grandfather, taking half a step toward the door before the old man spoke.

"I never got to say it to you...I'm sorry, for what happened to you and to Al..."

Georg's words were cut off abruptly. Kruger spun back mid-step and connected the back of his hand to the man's mouth. The slapping impact sent him sprawling to the floor. His hands sprouted fire as he looked up at Kruger with an anger almost as intense as the blaze on his hands.

"Do it! Go right ahead, but you're mouth will never be clean enough to say her name. Not to me! Not to your damned wolf god!" His heart was pounding and his fists were pulled tight. Kruger could see the hurt in Georg's expression, and couldn't make himself care. The only thing he cared about was that voice in the back of his head that sounded like her.

You're doing it again. You know how it makes me feel when you look at me that way....What way' Like I'm never coming back....I'd stop, but you'll still give Valerian the letter, just in case you don't....

Gone, Aludariel" he couldn't coax her back. baby? Nothing but the silence and his own inner voice.

"Get yourself cleaned up while I tell Niko what's happening." Kruger's tone was commanding, he would accept no less from Georg.