The Race of the Dragon Elders

A Talking Sword on my Anvil

I sighed. Mom still wouldn't let me go with the rest of the Green Dragons. "Mom!" I had complained. "All the other elves my age are allowed to go! Why not me?" Mom had sighed like I was doing now. "Last time I let you come, the human escaped. We are raiders! We do not show mercy to our prey." So now I am stuck in the Green Dragon's hideout. I looked in the mirror at my small, angular face and my oval, pale eyes. I sighed again. Even my eyes weren't like my mom's. She had all black, but I had rare white ones. "Why doesn't my mom let me go with her?" I wailed to my mirror. The mirror didn't answer. I'm kind of glad it didn't. Magic mirrors can be dangerous. I turned to my anvil. When mom made me angry, I made magic weapons. I turned to the plan for my next project. I looked closely at my blueprint and began to work. A few hours later, I was finished. It was a thing of beauty. It was made from Bloodiron, the strongest metal any blacksmith could get their hands on. Because of the Bloodiron, the blade was blood red. Glowing blue runes swirled on the hilt. The grip was wrapped in the finest leather. Now to see if my magic worked. I quickly cooled the blade in pre-enchanted water (50% off at Blade Mart!). I pulled the sword out. Now for the final part. No weapon is complete without a name. "Sword of Bloodiron, I name you-" I began, but I was rudely interrupted by a loud male voice. "You can't name me without my input!" the sword cried. I nearly dropped it. "Esteemed sword, what name would you choose?" I asked carefully. "One, don't start with all that 'esteemed sword' stuff. Two, that is your choice, not mine. I just want you to ask me first." the sword answered. "Okay then. Um... is Runesplitter good?" I stuttered. "Hmm... I like that!" the sword exclaimed. So then I began the "proper" naming ceremony. "Sword of Bloodiron, I name you Runesplitter, prince of blades." I chanted loudly, holding the sword. "Prince of blades... I like that!" Runesplitter said happily. So right now you're probably wondering, why is an elf making swords? That's dvirgen (dwarf) work. And to that, I would answer: Pbbbb! I can make a sword better than any dwarf could. I should know, I've challenged more than a hundred dvirgen to sword-making competitions and won all of them. One of the dwarves thought I was a dwarf in disguise, and I had to go through magical tests to prove I was an elf. Runesplitter jerked me out of my thoughts. "Hey, Elf person. Runesplitter is an awesome name, but it's a mouthful." I stared at the sword. "You don't have a mouth." The sword sighed. "It's a figure of speech, Elf." I rolled my eyes. "So... can you just call me Rune," Rune said. I nodded. "Well, "Rune", I am going to sneak out. As you are my sword, you are going to come with me." I said. "Fine. By the way, Elf, what's your name?" Rune asked. "Uh... Nau," I replied. "Okay, "Nau". Where are we going?" Rune asked. "Um... my mom found intruders. Let's go see them." I answered. "Who's your mom?" Rune asked. (All he seemed to be able to do was ask questions) "Queen Oaun," I responded without thinking. "WHAT?!"