Born in the Flame

Chapter 27

"Hello? Is someone there?" A voice called out in my dream.

Looking around, I saw no one. For some reason, I was in the meadows. Glass chimes sounded in the gentle breeze. It was like a distant memory to me, familiar but so far away that I couldn't recognize it.

"Hello?" The voice called.

"Where are you?" I called back. A figure began to take form as if by acknowledging it existed, it formed into being. The figure was tall, but barely recognizable as a being with a voice.

"I am here." It said, continuing to take shape, but remaining too hazy. "Who are you?"

"Elwin, but shouldn't I be asking you that?" I retorted. He was male by the deep tones in his voice, but I still wasn't able to identify what exactly he was.

"I might tell you." He said, "I think I have been here for a long time. You seem to have woken me up."

A form of a dawn elf began to appear, but the haze hid any recognizable features. The most striking feature is the golden blonde hair.

"Why are you in my dream?" I asked.

"You're dreaming?" He asked instead of answering the question.

"I think so. The last thing I remember is being in bed." I replied, but just as I had acknowledged his existence, my conscience beckoned me back. Acknowledging being asleep must have made my mind decide that it was time to wake up.

"Wait, Elwin..." The figure cleared enough to see that the facial expression he was giving was pure desperation.

I awoke with a gasp. A weary Uzlos blinked at me, also waking from a dream.

"What's wrong?" He asked groggily.

"Nothing, I'll tell you later. Go back to sleep." I said, letting him drift back into his pillow.

For weeks we had been going back and forth with the contact in the isles about a meeting with Chither. It seemed that the contact had acted as a middleman between us and Gabris. Gabris, it turns out, was a hard ass. We would tell him when we'd like to come, he'd say no. We would change the date to a different one, and again, he'd reject it. So, not trying to waste any more time, we just asked him when we could come. No reply had come yet, but hopefully, we would be hearing something today.

Since I couldn't just sit around and do nothing, I had met a dusk elven blade-smith on the other side of the city who would happily sell any weapons I made. I didn't tell him who I was or that I was the one who made the blades, but I presented myself as a merchant who had an inn with the dwarves. To make myself an additional bit of coin, I'd make daggers, axes, and swords, cover my runes, and sell the merchant my blades at the end of the week. He was happy to do so, seeing as it was nearly impossible to get the blades due to Droca's strict weapons trading embargo. Usually, a merchant would buy used ones from all over the continent and sell them that way, but I told him the elder council in Yimelke permitted me to do the trading since I had been adopted by a dwarven family.

It was a simple story, very deceptive, but safe for us. I never made too many to draw too much attention or start rumors about an insane influx of dwarven blades, but enough that I could buy an entire wardrobe of dusk elf attire. The fashion here has grown on me. Dwarven clothing had not been as flattering on me, though they did emphasize my arm muscles.

Lautauis had drawn up a letter for me to send back home last week. I sent his and my own out that same day. Mail always seemed to move at a sluggish pace, especially when it came to Drocatian mail. I know the dwarves were very protective, as they should be, but it was very inconvenient. Especially for Lautauis. His favorite word had seemed to be either inconvenient or convenient. The god said both words so often, I couldn't tell which one it was.