Blade of Erogrund

“So you can see,” continued Thain, “How your using the sword may bring discontent to the lad’s mind.”

Godric felt like a shroud had been draped over his shoulders. Despair washed over him in icy waves that were even more sobering than the frosty gusts that blew like perpetual breaths through the arctic air, despite the numerous fires that still burned in the destruction of Threst. The man already has no preference for me. He realized. What should stop him from killing me and taking what is rightfully his? I can’t defend myself and Mira from these warriors.

At the thought of defending Mira, a new question bubbled to his mind from under the horde of thoughts that had formed a precarious mountain in his mind. Mira did something to the Dragon. The flash of light.

He opened his mouth to ask the two fighters about it, butt Mira’s eyes met his. He had never believed much in the ability to understand a person’s thoughts by looking at their eyes, yet in that moment a stark meaning came across to him that was clearer then any word could have been.

Say nothing.

At first it made no sense to him. All he could tell was that she knew something and that it was important enough for Thain and Sarah to know nothing of it. Mira had never given him a reason to not trust her, so he closed his mouth.

Thain touched an ash-smeared hand to his helmet and murmured something intelligible under his breath. The cold metal that formed his impressive helm seemed to fold like a shadow in a greater light, soon disappearing altogether into its former tattoos that adorned his head. With a sigh the dwarf slung his hammer in a slot in his belt. “There is nothing more to be said of this now. We should make for Biren-Larath while we still can. Threst was the last chance; there is no point in sitting around here wasting time.”

A particularly stiff breeze gusted through the area, causing Sarah to shiver and pull up her cowl. She shook her head. “No, not yet. A few things must still be determined.” She peered questioningly at Godric. “I presume the Dragon saw you both?” The boy nodded. “When he saw the sword, did he say anything? Did he recognize it?”

A sinking feeling tugged at Godric’s chest. “Yes. He seemed surprised. He said that I was the ‘Champion of Men’ and that he would see me again, soon.”

"Feliesn," The elf muttered. “That means he will come for you.” He swung her glance to Mira. “And you too.”

The girl swallowed nervously, but nodded. “How can this Dragon known Erogrund? Surely this isn’t the same Dragon that slew Eroth.”

Sarah slung her bow over her shoulder and replaced her arrows in her sheath. “Nay, it is her eldest hatchling. This Dragon is a youth, only in its one-hundred eighty-eighth winter. In all respects it is a child, but as you can see,” She swept her arm in an arc to the wreckage around them, “it is still plenty dangerous.”

Thain stooped and picked up the slack body of Narn, who was still asleep, and cast him over his shoulder. The dwarf was so short, however, that the tip of the wolf’s nose nearly scraped the ground.

Mira held up a hand. “If you would indulge me for only a little longer, please, what did you mean when you said that Threst was ‘the last chance’? There is a city, Carahir, only forty miles from here, if I remember my maps accurately. Shouldn’t we go there? It is large and, from all I have read, powerful.”

Thain scoffed. “Girl, have you ever seen Carahir? Or Meshtobeth? Or Barugion?” The last two names were unfamiliar to Godric, but Mira looked to understand them, so he presumed they were also cities of some kind.

The girl shuffled her feet nervously. “I have read much about them. I have read of their armies, their customs, their geography. There are many drawings of them.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Mira absentmindedly brushed a lock of red hair off her face. “No. I have never seen any of the cities in Niron.”

“Alas, we have explained all that we shall for one day,” Sarah said. “The afternoon sun is already setting and it would not do to be out at night in the Woods. As Thain says, we will make for Biren-Larath and hopefully reach the Gate of Miroan by last light, but we must make haste!” She darted from where they stood, heading North from what was left of Threst into the edge of the forest. Thain hefted his canine companion and jogged after her.

“Wait!” called Mira. “What about Ennor? We can’t leave him behind!”

The dwarf glanced back over his shoulder. “Leave him! He will come. He always comes. Keep the sword hidden, by the way. There’s no telling what will happen if word gets out about it.”

Godric hesitated to follow, but Thain had already almost it far past the broken gate they had entered from and was near the forest edge. When he looked back Mira was already running after them.

As Godric put the sword back in its sheath a chilling realization came into his mind that sent shivers down his spine even more potently than the freezing breeze that cursed the air.

If the sword was stolen that long ago, it only made sense that one person could have taken it. My father stole the sword. He doomed Eroth and thousands of other men to their death.