Chapter 081: Gred's Future and Past

Gred took a drink of mild ale, grinned, shook his head, and let out a breath.

“I can move around normally now, but neither my legs nor my hands quite do what I tell them. I'm thinking of taking a break for a while and finding work again after I've fully recovered.”

“I agree,” Jess said. “You've earned some money lately. You can afford to enjoy yourself for a few days.”

“What are you planning to do? Oh, and how's that business with the Wizard's Sanctum going? Did the king personally apply for you?” Gred asked, raising his mug.

Jess took a sip, looked at the dwarf's eager expression, and sighed. “Of course not. He just sent them a letter asking them to accept me as an apprentice. I don't think it's official yet, but Marin taught me a spell to practice in the meantime.”

“Really? What kind of spell? Show me.” Gred put down his mug and beckoned.

Jess held out his left hand, stared at his fingertips, and quietly said, “Liyusa!”

A cluster of arcane energy gathered above his fingers. Suddenly it gave off a bright glow. A few nearby guests turned to look, and Jess immediately put it out.

“Impressive!” Gred clapped twice. “You've already learned the light spell?”

“It's just saying a few words,” Jess muttered.

“So a little trick like that is nothing to you anymore, eh? Given what you can do already. Ha!”

Jess smiled without agreeing or disagreeing. Inside, though, he felt as if the dwarf had become much more accepting of shadow power.

Gred tossed a piece of fish into his mouth. “To tell the truth, that trip to Redridge made me think. I realized it's hard to fight those monsters if you don't know any magic at all. And now even the monsters can cast spells. As if their strength weren't enough, the elements can make them even stronger! What kind of sense does that make? But there you have it. An old warrior like me got knocked over like a stray dog, and the orc with magic won.”

Jess said nothing, waiting to hear what conclusion Gred was working toward.

Gred narrowed his eye. “Do you think I could learn some kind of magic myself?”

Jess laughed aloud. “You're in your sixties or seventies, and only now you've remembered you might be able to study magic?”

“Didn't you once say you should keep learning even when you're old?” Gred asked. “Though I doubt I have any talent for it. That's not really the main point. Jess, going out with you lately has made me realize something important about myself. I was treating the gryphon's strength as if it were my own.”

Jess's smile slowly vanished.

All at once he understood why this dwarf, despite losing an eye and struggling to hold his weapons steady, still looked down on so many people and charged at every enemy without hesitation.

And he understood better why losing his place as a gryphon rider had left Gred so bitter.

“I was a gryphon rider for too long,” Gred said, taking another drink. “Years before the Dark Portal opened, I was already riding a gryphon against the Amani trolls. By the time the Orc Wars began, I'd nearly forgotten how to fight on the ground. The gryphon had become my legs, my wings, my... everything.”

“What really made me see it was climbing onto that mare you got from the Mage Quarter. Something about having an animal under me felt familiar, as if I were back in the Hinterlands. Except I couldn't control her. Just like I can't properly control my own body now. I... I don't know how to explain it.”

“When the orc knocked you down, he threw me far away. As I got to my feet, I almost shouted a command to send my gryphon charging back, because there was no way I could reach you on foot before he killed you. Only when I realized I wasn't on a gryphon did I remember I still had my bow. I've been off a gryphon for years, but I still can't break the habit.”

“Anyway, I don't want to keep living like that. Arcane magic, fire, whatever... I'm only halfway through my life. I can't just become some useless nobody. Say, do you think I could join the church?”

“It's hard to picture, but you could try,” Jess said. “But don't you admire Danath Trollbane? He's not a priest or a paladin. He doesn't use magic. He defeated unimaginable enemies with his sword alone. Didn't you say at Great Lake Farm that we'd train and improve together? Why are you giving up on that dream so suddenly?”

“My injuries, Jess.” Gred sighed helplessly. “No matter how much I train, I can't stop my hand shaking. And there's my eye. When that orc charged at me, I couldn't even judge how far away he was. I could only guess from experience. I honestly don't know how far I can get like this.”

He lowered his head and didn't raise it for a long time. Jess could only see his beard moving slightly.

“Have you thought about asking in Quel'Thalas?” Jess asked.

“Asking what?” Gred looked up.

“How to restore your sight... and help your hand.”

The NovelPhoenix site publishes the author's chapter; this page copied its text without approval.

Gred let out a dry laugh. Almost immediately, his face darkened.

He stuffed a piece of fat into his mouth, nearly gagged at how greasy it was, and washed it down with a long drink of ale. After a while, he said, “How could that ever happen? I admit those lunatics who spend all day researching who knows what might have a cure. But why would they ever lift a finger to help a dwarf like me? I'll never ask an elf for help. Not even if I'm dying! You might as well let me die blind!”

Jess coughed awkwardly. “You've slept with so many elf girls. Isn't there even one who'd be willing to help you think of a solution?”

Gred narrowed his eye at Jess for a moment. “Well, there weren't actually that many.”

Jess took another sip of ale. “I figured that since you'd come up with a whole theory about what happens in bed and what happens outside it, you'd have a big enough sample to make your theory convincing.”

“She just wanted a good time, understand? We both got what we wanted!” Gred said. “Afterward, the next day, we went back to our own business. I didn't want to go kill people for her, and she certainly wouldn't want to cure me. Simple as that.”

“She?” Jess asked. “Singular?”

Gred coughed and drew a deep breath. “They. I mean they. My Common isn't very good.”

“You were in love with an elf?!” Jess asked in surprise.

“Oh, piss off!” Gred slammed the table. “In love? Damn it... Those pointed ears on that bitch. I'd cut them off... cut them off and string them around my neck! Me, in love? Piss off!”

Jess couldn't hold back a snort of laughter. Gred glared sideways at him and took another swig, only to find his mug empty. He began shouting for the waitress again.

“No more of that weak stuff! No more! I want dark ale! Dark!”

Then he turned back to Jess and pointed at his mug. “You drink too!”

That only made it harder for Jess to keep a straight face. Seeing how angry Gred was, he hurriedly took a gulp.

Judging by his reaction, Jess figured someone had played a cruel trick on the dwarf at some point.

The elves of Silvermoon were known for their lavish, pleasure-loving ways. They could be ruthless even to their own kind, let alone outsiders. Perhaps to the elf woman in Gred's memories, he'd been nothing more than a tiny walking toy for satisfying her desires.

But if they'd both gotten what they wanted, why was he so furious?

Or had he really given her his heart?

The dark ale arrived. Gred drank half the mug in one go, slumped back in his chair, and stared blankly at something behind Jess. A long time passed before he burped.

“Remember what you once told me?” Jess said. “Elves do help other people. They just wait until they have no choice.”

Gred's eye slowly turned toward him. “So how do you make them have no choice?”

“Well... first we'd need to find an elf,” Jess said, spearing another piece of fatty Bloodtusk boar meat with his fork.

“Are you sure?” Gred muttered. “That elves will have a way to cure the damage the poison left behind?”

“I asked an alchemist. She said the elves have fought trolls for so many years that they must have seen plenty of injuries like yours. They might know a lot more about treating them.” Jess paused. “By the way, what exactly happened to your eye? Was it struck blind, or did it just stop working?”

Gred removed his eye patch. “It just can't see anything anymore.”

Jess examined the blind eye. It was a little cloudy, like a mild cataract, though not quite that pale. On its own it didn't look terribly damaged, but compared with his healthy eye it was unsettling. No wonder Gred kept it covered.

“It's worth asking,” Gred said quietly. “But in the end, it's still just a guess.”

“Don't be so pessimistic. You're questioning the knowledge of a civilization that's ten thousand years old,” Jess said. “I've been thinking we shouldn't limit ourselves to Stormwind, or even the kingdom. There are plenty of elves in Dalaran. More than in Stormwind, at least. I want to ask my boss—no, my teacher now—whether he'll need someone to travel to Dalaran on business before the end of the year. That way, I could take a ship to Lordaeron without paying for it myself.”

The dwarf's eye lit up. “Really? That job has amazing benefits! Think you could get my ticket covered too?”

“Well...”

“Never mind. Saving one person's fare is good enough.”

“Anyway, if I get to Dalaran, I'll find a chance to ask for you. Just ask. Surely those elves won't hate me so much that they refuse to say a word?”

“I'm not getting my hopes up,” Gred said, picking his teeth with his fork. “Speaking of which, the meat here just isn't as good as in Redridge. Once you've eaten at the inn in Lakeshire, everything back here tastes dull.”

Jess wasn't particularly interested in debating which town had the better food. His thoughts had already flown to Dalaran.

When he got home that evening, the imp was still copying books. It looked as though he'd written quite a lot.

Jess picked up a sheet, chose a word at random, and slowly sounded it out according to the pronunciation written in Common.

“Anak.”

“No, no, no,” Saeno said. “That's still Common, Master. To speak demonic, you need the special Eredar way of making the sounds. Listen to me. A—nak!”

When Saeno made the first sound, a string of sharp bursts seemed to go off in his throat, almost like a harsh ha. The second part sounded as though he were biting through a bone.

Even that simple word was exhausting for Jess to imitate.

“That's too complicated.”

“The fact that you can hear how complicated it is means you have a wonderful talent for demonic, Master!” the imp said. “You must pronounce it accurately. You must! Remember how the sounds work. That's the first step to bringing out the full power of demonic spells!”

“Anak.” Jess tried copying him.

Saeno clapped his hands. “Yes! Yes! That's it! Eredar can use magic to strengthen their voices, then use those voices to make their magic even stronger. Their spoken spells are more powerful than those of ordinary people. But I can't do that. I'm just a little demon, you know.”

Jess nodded. “Anak... It means 'miserable.'”

What would happen if he said Fuaiket using that kind of pronunciation?

He nearly tried it on the imp right then. But when he saw the little demon working so hard, he remembered what might happen if Saeno got frightened, jumped out the window, and set a few houses on fire. It wasn't worth the trouble, so he gave up the idea.

“I need a set of pronunciation rules,” Jess said. “Can you write out a pronunciation chart?”

“A pronunciation chart for demonic?” The imp turned to stare at Jess. “Are you joking, Master?”

Jess wasn't offended by the sarcasm. English, for example, had absorbed countless words and sounds from older languages and was full of special pronunciations. Demonic drew on the original languages of countless strange demons from the Twisting Nether. Its foundation might be Eredun, but perhaps Eredun didn't even make up that much of its vocabulary anymore.

Each kind of demon had its own way of speaking. Writing down the rules of demonic pronunciation might require another whole book.

Jess flopped onto his bed. His whole body felt sore and numb. The cool autumn wind came through the window and brushed over his chest and stomach, slowly carrying away the day's tiredness.

If only the imp weren't constantly giving off that demonic smell, it would be perfect.

“Go back to your bag and sleep.”

“I can rest now? Wonderful!” The imp eagerly climbed inside.

There. Perfect.

Jess closed his eyes in comfort.

His stomach was a little too full.