A Beginning in Sight

The storm finally passed. After two days of incessant rain and howling wind, the sun poked its rays through the clouds. Streams of light danced amongst the lingering shadows, bridging earth and sky. To describe the lands in one word was easy - wet.

Dhuergar Warhammer looked down at the rain-soaked fields and forests of his province and smiled. The experiment had worked! The knowledge of the new Storm spell had passed to his province's wizards just recently. There was now an easy counter to the Droughts that would undoubtedly plague his lands in any war, and as a dwarf his fear of Droughts was an especial one.

"Well. It worked." He turned to his friend and advisor who stood next to him.

Qualath kept his gaze on the lands stretched out beyond the battlements of the fort, surveying for any damage done by the storm. "Indeed."

Dhuergar turned from the view and stode towards the tower; Qualath followed a step behind. Dhuergar's brisk pace was easily matched by the half-elf.

"Be sure to have a note of thanks sent to our friend." Wizards from a neighbouring province had aided in the experiment.

"Of course, my lord." Qualath was efficient, and he had no doubts about the success of the new Storm spell; a note had been drafted the day the original agreement was signed. All that remained was for the official seal to be applied, and a rider to deliver it to its destination.

The pair were through the door and climbing down the stairs. "I want reports by this evening."

Qualath nodded in silence. That also had been looked to; forewarning had been given to the appropriate people. Those people were doubtless already gathering the necessary information for their reports. Qualath, however, would have to personally see to it that the war-room was prepared; only one servant was trusted to enter that room, and only when supervised.

At the bottom of the stairs Qualath stopped by Dhuergar's side. "By your leave, my lord."

Dhuergar did not pause in his strides, saying only, "Go, Qualath. No time to be wasted." There they parted ways.

They crossed paths again in the afternoon, Dhuergar almost walking past Qualath in one of the courtyards. Qualath was sitting on a stone bench near the center of the garden, his gaze fixed on a point in front of him. Curious, Dhuergar looked in the direction his friend was facing. There was nothing there; no flowers, no bushes, no statues, no paintings, nothing.

"Hmm." If there was one thing the battle-scarred dwarf knew, it was that his weakness was dealing with what he called the 'softer emotions'. Still, he had many years of experience dealing with other races, and was constantly learning how to deal with them. And though he never considered his old friend 'soft', he knew that Qualath had the heart of an elf. Quiet repose was a part of his character.

Dhuergar approached the bench and sat next to his friend. "Well."

No response.

He tried a more direct tack. "What happened to that elf lady friend of yours?"

Without turning his head, Qualath answered, "She - had to go."

It was a short answer. "I see."

"She was swept off her feet by some elf. A prince I think."

"Oh." So far, by Dhuergar's own reckoning, he was doing very well. "Hmm."

"Not much chance for a half-breed like me to impress her."

"Well, that's her loss." His reply was automatic, but, he also felt, the right one.

A smile threatened to tug the corners of the half-elf's lips up. He half-turned to face the dwarf.

"Of course."

And that was that. Dhuergar slapped his knees enthusiastically, pushed off the bench, and gave his friend a good clap on the shoulder. Just before leaving the courtyard, he stopped and turned to his friend again. "I will see you later then. It was good to talk." That, he felt, was a good finishing touch.

The smile came to Qualath's face finally, as he lowered his head to stare at his hands. "Yes. On both accounts."

And the day continued, as the two most powerful men in the faery province of Voide Knite prepared their followers for war.