Elfborn

Chapter 13: Revelation

Misha blinked in shock as he stared down at the trio of Elfborn standing at his open door.

"You ... you want to see the rest of my artifacts? Now?" he asked weakly, barely resisting the impulse to slam his door shut in their faces. "But it is almost time for the evening meal. Surely you wish to ..."

"We wish to see the remainder of your artifacts," Max interjected sharply, cutting the old, lean historian off. He leaned forward slightly, a grim and resolute expression on his face.

"They may contain items that we've recently learned could have the ability to protect both you and the rest of the caravan from Nordman encroachment."

"You mean a ... a weapon?" Misha husked, shivering. But not with the cold wind that was slicing through his open door, flaying his skin down to the bone. With fear of what the Hybernians had become in the short time following their rescue. Even Ollie was uncharacteristically grim as he stood, arms crossed over his chest, beside Naneen, on the other side of Max. It was enough to make him question the wisdom of rescuing such creatures. Creatures that seemed to become more dark and intense with each passing day!

Misha's dark eyes darted from one Elfborn to the other then back again as he licked suddenly dry lips.

"I just don't know," he began in a wavering voice. "These are the treasures of my clan. Our very history. They connect us to what we were, in the past. And you've already taken two of them. Must you take more?"

"Must I remind you of the covenant you swore before us?" Max hissed in return, his words making Misha physically flinch. Then, almost as if a floodgate had been opened, any sign of resistance abruptly vanished as Misha seemed to sag inward on himself.

"Very well," he said in a low and tired voice. "Come in. I will get the artifacts for you right now."

"Recognize anything?" Max asked sometime later as he leaned against a wall, arms crossed. In front of him, sitting at Misha's table, Ollie and Naneen were carefully going through the first wooden box of bits and pieces by the light of Misha's lantern, that Misha had brought them. Some were obviously ruined pieces of buildings from Hybernia, Max recognizing their shape and weathering from similar pieces he himself had seen there. They were chunks that held no real value except to the historian who knew the stories behind them.

The other pieces, however, weren't as easy to categorize. Max found himself grinding his teeth with impatience. Taolin was a warrior, not a wizard. He wouldn't know a k'suthin if the damn thing jumped off the table and bit him on the nose! So his memories were noticeably empty of such things.

Ollie, however, was more talented in spotting things with magical auras. With a little coaching from Naneen, who had her new memories to rely on, he had quickly identified several smaller pieces, either irregular in shape, or so worn as to be unrecognizable, as having a magical aura.

"No, not yet," he muttered as he picked up another piece. He immediately squinted in concentration as he felt a familiar tingle emanating from the triangular chunk of weathered stone. He turned and handed it to Naneen, who was just putting another piece down with a frown of frustration.

"Here's another," he said and she nodded, taking it from him. Only to quickly discard it.

"Burn me." She sighed and looked up at Max. "Several pieces, most still with power, but not a complete k'suthin in the lot." She looked towards the front of the wagon where Misha was still rummaging through his collection, filling a second box according to the descriptions that Naneen had given him.

"Do you actually think he might have something useful back there?"

Max shrugged.

"We won't know until he checks," he pragmatically replied. Just then Misha reappeared, the flat wooden box in his hands heaped high with worn pieces of stone. A half smile was on his face, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.