Born in the Flame

Chapter Eighteen

Hi journal,
   
    There has been a lot going on since last week. As you know, I've been pulling hair trying to translate this book. Well, I got a little help. At first, I didn't have a clue who was showing up at the forge. She looks like any other dawn elf noble looking to gawk at the dwarves. Syrdione told me who she was, and of course I didn't believe her at first. I had no choice but to believe her when she again told me who she was under a firebrand spell.
   
    Syrdione had heard of what my brother had done months ago, and had made her way here. For some reason, I felt so angry. How can she show up now and offer help? I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to try and fight a god. As if she knew what I was thinking, she explained her absence.
   
    She told me that she and Cathyr have a long standing agreement that neither will interfere in mortal affairs and neither will step foot on each other's territory. Both, she explained, had been discretely broken. Apparently the two of them have been fighting with each other diplomatically for millennia. It came to a head when Syrdione killed Cathyr's heir the first time we endured dawn elven abuse, thousands of years ago.
   
    It made sense, but I was still angry. My family was gone because she waited too long. I couldn't speak to her. I didn't want to, and told her as much. It seemed she understood that, but before she left, she left a translation key for the book. How she knew that I had it and worked on translating it, I didn't know. I wanted to spit at it, but I'm glad I didn't because it works.
   
    The ancient dwarven didn't have just one blade but multiple powerful blades made of the same metal. Death steel was an enchanted metal used by forging rage and anger into a blade. Unfortunately, it doesn't yet explain how it was made, but once I translate the rest of the book, I should know. It seems there are a lot of spells that the ancient dwarven thought best to be hidden away. There are curses in here that would burn you from within, but frankly I know I can craft this blade. If all I need is steel and rage, I can do it. I will forge a blade for every dwarf in the city and cut down every last dawn elf that dared to take my home and family from me.
   
    They benefit off our labor and make us into minstrels for their own twisted amusement. Oh, I think I have enough rage in me to forge a blade for every damn dwarf in existence. I hope our god comes back, I want to apologize to her. She gave me the last thing I've needed to fuel our rebellion. Once I make the blades, I will rally the rebels together.

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Hi journal,
   
    Syrdione visited again. I apologized for how I reacted yesterday, but it didn't seem like she wanted one. In fact, she apologized to me. She told me she's hated the vow she made ever since she made it, but she thought a fight between her and Cathyr would risk our lives more than another attack from Nadraria. The stories about their godly size had been true, she was a two thousand foot long viper of flame and molten lava while Cathyr was a three headed stone beast that stood around the same height. She has the venom, gifted to her by Flys while Cathyr has near impenetrable skin. A fight between them would be long and devastating.
   
    I asked why they would need weapons that would fight against each other. Syrdione didn't know, but assumed that Flys and Elys, towards the time they were created, feuded over who the earth belonged to. Syrdione had been told that the earth belonged to the mortals and that the gods were to watch over their creations, while Elys told Cathyr something else. It would make sense for the gods of earth to feel entitled to the earth, but in truth we needed all the elements to survive. Cathyr had probably been teaching that sentiment to the lovely dawn elves for millennia, encouraging them to invade.
   
    Syrdione doesn't think Cathyr originally cared about who the earth belonged to, but after Reeyar was killed for entering Droca, she did. Honestly, the wrath I hold for the dawn elves could be compared to Cathyr's wrath for any being of the fire element. She blames us for her son's death. God or not, I would kill a whole race for killing my child.
   
    After her explanation, we discussed what I had learned from the book. She told me that she thinks she remembers the dwarves from that time making the steel. Gods, the fire magic she wields is that of its purest form. Golden heated waves spread along her brow and engulfed me in her memory. I saw how they made the steel. It was similar to how we enchant them now.
   
    That night, together, we were able to make the first death steel blade. It first has to use the enchantment flame to meltdown steel, while melting the steel you have to feel every bit of rage and transfer it into the flame. When I finally got it right, the flame had turned white. Gods it burned, it felt like I was cursed by the spell I talked about yesterday. Though it hurt, the axe I made was darker than night itself and was the finest creation I have made.
   
    Before Syrdione left, I asked her a question I had been pondering for a long time. How? How did they take over? She told me that it was gradual and barely noticeable. They would pay off politicians and create legislation that would benefit them in the long run. If they just attacked, it wouldn't have worked. They, unfortunately, had time as an advantage.
   
    Well, I'll make sure this is the last time. If that means I will have to kill every last one of them and Cathyr, then so be it.