The Bane of Everin

Chapter five

"Is this the armor my family's was based on?" I asked, realizing my dad's armor didn't have the fading of colors on it's scales or the throwing knife sheaths.

"No" grandma said sternly, peering into the glass studying the suit.

"Our family's armor is made here, in this forge. weeks go into perfecting the scales tip and the dragon's vengeful gaze. They are made from steel, iron, and Imgur, a strong metal found deep within the mountains near Drulum. But this set of armor is made from the bone and scales from a dragon" grandma informed making my mouth drop. I was right the armor was forged years ago but made from dragon bone and scales. How did they get the material though...did they kill the dragon or was it already dead. The disgrace I felt thinking about my family taking the body of such an ancient being made me sick. For some reason I resented the armor because of the thought that my family stole the dragons bones and ripped the scales from its body.

"How did we get the bone and scales?" I asked fearing the worst answer. I'm sure they didn't steal the scales and bone, we are dragon riders after all. Right?

"An ancient and powerful dragon by the name of Numerix gave these to our family as an act of alliance. Throughout the journals written by our ancestors they say nobody had a clue what to do with the scales and bone. They were too tough to even chip, so they stored them here through the ages. The scales were tended to and the bone was cleaned for years by our family until we received our current forge master" grandma spoke never looking away from the jagged armor but she did point to a normal sized door. Finally a door that wasn't the weight of a giant lizard. The door was about my height and a couple feet wide. It was made of pure steel with a black stained glass window in the shape of a rectangle near the top. It kind of resembled a door that would lock up a vault, bolted on the edges and with a lock in the middle.

"Whatever is behind that door must be important" I stated, wondering why they would need another door for safety. One, the cave was pretty hidden. Two, getting that giant story door open without being a Draken would be impossible. Three, apparently the scrolls in the corridor of dragons turned anyone who isn't supposed to be in here to dust. Four, that big door leading into the cabin room was extremely heavy. Lastly number five, I don't think who ever blew out the fire would let just anyone in the forge.

"Who" grandma corrected. Then it hit me, the strips of steel cooling in the water cradles where fresh and the forge was still hot. Someone had been working before we came.

"Why would they lock themselves up?" I asked, gazing at the door trying to see if I could see a face through the black glass but it was hopeless.

"No Draken has seen the forge master who works down here. The forge master's like to keep their identity hidden" grandma informed, looking away from the astounding set of armor and joining me staring at the thick door. Maybe I was wrong, that door looked substantial. I don't think I could open it even if I had somehow unlocked it. It might even be a struggle for the smith to open, the forge master must have lots of built up muscle but the more I look at the door the more impenetrable it seems.

"Do they ever go outside?" I asked, feeling guilty. I felt as if it was my fault for them being trapped down here.

"Of course, they might even live in Lothic but the forge master chooses to hide his identity" grandma informed, canceling my idea about figuring out who was behind that door. At least they got to go outside.

"This forge master is the best we have ever seen. When I came here when you were eleven I didn't know if you were ready. Or if you would ever be ready. I told the book about your ambition. The book told me to trust you, but the gleam in your eye scared me, you are so ruthless" grandma hissed but not at me. It sounded as if she was angry with herself. She wasn't wrong, I remembered nearing the end of my training through the blood years. I remember seeing valor who was three years older than me make it to the top of a cliff in minutes. Mother had told me that valor was much stronger than I was. She told me not to push myself to a point where I couldn't climb down. I was enraged. She thought I was going to climb down. Immediately I started at the rocky cliff. I was about half way up when my calf's began to fall numb and the skin on my fingers was ripped open. I looked down at the grass fifty feet below, I could easily make it down but I looked up as saw valor looking down. He motioned for me to keep climbing so I did. With almost unbearable pain from the core trying to keep my body straight, my legs pushing me up the steep rock face, and my bleeding hands I stood before valor on the top of that drop off. Grandma had walked the path that led up there and watched the whole exercise. I didn't think about what my face looked like once I finished climbing. I remember scowling at my mother's lack of faith in me but other than that I remember crying my eyes out as Valor laughed at my hands. His hands had been calloused over many times but mom never let my hands be anything than smooth.