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The light breeze cooled the warm air around the caravan. Sandal loved spring time. Spring signified their return to the road each year after a winter season of holing up where ever he and his father, Bodahn, were welcome. They had spent a long period of time traveling with the Hero of Fereldan and gang and had even faired the winter weather to be of assistance to them more than once. Now that the Blight had been thwarted it was time to get back to the business of trade and…oh, Enchantment!
Sandal’s thoughts were sharp on this bright day, though his speech often, ehem, always seemed to unmaster what he’d try to express. He hardly needed to speak as his father more than made up for it on any given day. “I know how uneasy the Tower makes you, my boy, but we’d promised her ladyship we’d make a stop there.”
It wasn’t so much that the Fereldan Tower of Magi made him uneasy but rather that the tower made his father uneasy. For quite a few years Sandal had been somewhat of a savant in terms of magical alchemy and enchanted enhancements. His father feared someone would take an interest in him and try to take him away. They might even think it an easy task because Sandal seemed the simple sort. Sandal wasn’t simple. He just had this blasted speech impediment. His verbal abilities had improved through the years, but not without great effort. He’d been working on swear words lately. He thought it was fun but his father disapproved when he’d catch him half whispering curses into the night. He really liked, “Shit.” Shit was a fun one. Sandal was grateful so many swears were single syllables. It might take him a life time to work up to well-constructed insults. He’s even written a few down he’d heard around the Hero of Fereldan’s camp. You’d never know it by looking at her, but the raven haired apostate constructed some magnificent slurs against a certain cheese-hoarding Grey Warden. Poor Alistair had been left humbled more than once.
In the back of their caravan lie a few crates of goods from Orzammar as well as some very unusual cargo. Tucked under a woven blanket with her head propped up on a leather pack slept a dwarven girl. Under the request of the Lady Amell they had been asked to pick up a girl who was interested in studying at the Tower of Magi. A dwarven girl, interested in magic! How odd. He considered that he wasn’t one to judge. He had his own odd interests to fuel his ambitions. He liked enchanting and also adding Antivan chillies to beer when his dad decided to treat him to a pint. He was also interested in intricate embroidery on some of the fine cloths they transported, but had always felt a little subconscious about sharing this interest to his father.
The young, female dwarf had introduced herself as Dagna, and was about five times as talkative as his father. He had even commented that the girl, “Sure used her gift of gab.” She seemed to be out like a light, despite the heavy roll and thump of the road beneath the wheels of the caravan. She even mumbled in her sleep which seemed to add to her extremely verbal disposition. She seemed to like to talk about food a great deal.
“Out.” He motioned to Dagna. His father nodded, “Yes, she sure can sleep! Too bad we can’t join her. These mules aren’t going to guide themselves to anything other than a patch of grass. It’s getting to be late in the morning. You can give her a nudge if you’d like. If she sleeps in too much then she’s not going to stop blabbering when it’s time for us to get some rest.” They had learned this lesson on their first day together. Neither of them got much sleep when Dagna discovered some flowers that bloomed at night. It was all she could talk about until her train of thought led her to talking about clouds and how she was so certain we could reach up and grab one with our hands.
Sandal’s mouth twisted into a thoughtful frown. It was nice to have another person to talk with, or try to talk with during their trip. He crawled into the back of a caravan and gave her a light poke on her shoulder. She did not budge. Of course she wasn’t going to wake from a poke if the road didn’t do it before hand. He gave her a good shake by both of her shoulders until her eyes opened up into sleepy slits.
“Are we there yet?” She asked through squinted eyes and messy bangs.
“No.”
“Darn.” Dagna lifted herself on her elbows and gave Sandal and big smile. “It’s funny waking up to the sky and not fall into it! Fresh air, sunshine and…oh no…” Her nose crinkled up and her eyebrows rose. Her face contorted comically until she loudly sneeze, “…hay fever.” She rubbed her nose on her sleeve sniffled back her new found allergies. “We don’t really have hay fever in Orzammar. So neat! The only thing that ever made me sneeze was ash, and even then I’m pretty certain I’d grown used to the remains of flames. I never asked, were you from Orzammar or have you always been up here?” She rubbed her eyes with her fists and rose to a sitting position.
Sandal hadn’t spoken with her much since they had been traveling. It made him a little uneasy to try to have a conversation with someone new. “No. Here.”
“What about your father? Bodahn, were you from Orzammar?”
Bodahn turned to the side from his position as driver and addressed them both. “I was of the merchant class there. I made a more than comfortable living there but things don’t always work out when a noble gets their knickers in a twist.”
“Sounds like a good story!”
“Oldest story in the book, lass. I acquired an item in the Deep Roads that once belonged to the brother of a noble. Let’s call her Lady Coal-in-her-Toosh. She decided it was easier to claim I was a thief than come to terms with the fact that it was just business. Legal business, mind you. I’m sure you know what they do to thieves in Orzammar. I decided to take my chances on the surface. On my way here is where I found my boy, nestled in a crook of stones. In the Deep Roads no less! I don’t regret a thing.”
“Oh! So Sandal is your adopted son?”
“That he is. Bright too. I couldn’t be prouder.” Bodahn smiled at his son. He’d meant every word and Sandal always appreciated it. Not everyone liked their parents, but Sandal really loved his dad. His dad had a few reasons to be less than pleased with him, but Bodahn seemed to have a heart which always looked past Sandal’s short comings.
Dagna rested her cheek on her pulled up knees. “I wish my parents had been more supportive of me. They disapproved of my interest in magic. I told them that just because a dwarf can’t cast magic doesn’t mean we can’t study it. It hasn’t been done before but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t ever be done.”
“En-enchantment!” Sandal burst out in agreement.
“Yes! Exactly, Sandal, like enchantments! Dwarves are some of the best crafters Thedas will ever have. I think that is something entirely in the realm of our abilities in terms of magic. Crafting items.” Bodahn smiled as he listened to the conversation. He noticed that she never made mention of his son’s inability to talk like everyone else. Sandal took note of it too. If there was ever a time he wanted to talk it was right now. He didn’t know if she understood his predicament, was extremely kind, or just very dense. Or maybe…all of the above?
Though his father might not have approved, Sandal took out a carved box holding his prize collection. With his fingers he coaxed her over to him and sat in on the floor of the caravan with her. She leaned over the box with interest. “What a lovely box. What’s in it?”
Sandal smiled widely and gauged her interested, “Boom.”
“Boom?”
“Boom.”
He unlocked the box with a key he kept around his neck on a leather cord. With a twist of the small, worn bit of metal the box popped open. It smelled like lyrium. Lyrium had a smell like wet stars. If stars had a smell this would be it. At least this is what Sandal had always thought. It did not have the metallic twang of copper, nor the dirt smell of shale, but more a fresh smell like the smell of melted gold or silver. Yes, it smelled like something that could melt and move. The smell made his nose crinkle, like a sparkler was going off in your senses. Dwarves who worked in the mines knew this smell well. Humans could be driven mad by it. He wondered if Dagna had the keen senses to pick up on what he sensed.
Within the box came a faint glow from each and every object. Mostly stones or tempered metal pieces, they all had their own color and vibration. He knew each of these items like a person, different faces and difference voices. There were even miscellaneous items that glowed with magic. There was a small mammal skull of some sort, a bent copper coin, a broken piece of painted glass, as well as a solitary earring with a dangling bead of azure.
Her eyes lit up in amazement. “They are beautiful! I love the glow of that one,” She pointed to a piece of pyrite that had a merky, ochre glow. “But what are they?” She mused at the box.
He raised his eyes in mild surprise. He thought she’d know what they were. Wasn’t it obvious?
“Enchantment.”
“They are enchanted? With what?”
“Enchantments.” He said matter-of-a-factly.
She glanced at him and broke into a laugh. “Well, I’m feeling rather stupid. Of course they are enchanted. Tell me about them. Oh, no, wait, let me guess!” She spent the next several minutes taking guesses as the enchantments on the object. It was obvious to him that she’d read some rudimentary texts on novice enchanting. She even guessed a few correctly! However, she could not begin the guess a few enchantments that, as far as Sandal knew, were of his own design. Especially the one he called, “Bug zapper.”
His mouth formed shapes, and small noises came from his throat, but this was not something he was going to be able to do. He wanted to give her some answers, but the answers were more complicated than he could communicate. She watched him struggle with patience. Her eyebrows would raise at every sound, her interest palpable with more than just her expression. Eventually she laid her hand on his arm said, “It’s ok, you can tell me about them another time. Thank you for showing them to me. They are so neat.”
Though a bright and optimistic day, Sandal was disappointed that he wasn’t able to continue their conversation. Dagna, on the other hand, was more than happy to do the talking for both of them. He learned everything from her life story to what was the best way to fry nug and even about the recent scandals in Orzammar. She’d retold a few stories more than once and didn’t seem to notice. He enjoyed listening to her talk. He’d always enjoyed sitting by the fire with Lady Amell and her companions and especially enjoyed listening to Leliana sing her songs. He admitted to himself that, though he was generally content with his life, he was much happier with a crowd.
When the light of day threatened to break the three of them turned off the road to hide their goods in bushes for the night. Sandal opened his box to retrieve a fire rune that was carved into a piece of flint. It glowed an obvious orange color. He wiggled his finger at Dagna to watch what it does.
“Fire.”
“Yes, flint can make fire. Did you need help making it?”
He shook his head at her. No, that’s not quite how his flint was going to be used. A small bundle of sticks and leaves had been formed into a short pyramid. He held the small runed object at the camp fire and with a flick of his wrist the wood caught fire.
Dagna jumped a little. Her expression of shock turned into pure excitement. “You can cast SPELLS. Oh sweet Ancestor’s hairy buttcheeks, if I ever write a thesis it’s going to be on you.”
He waved his hands in front of himself, trying to dismiss her idea. “N-no, NO! Not Magic!”
“Cleary it was magic!”
“Not magic!”
“How could it not be magic?”
“Object! Object magic.” He tapped his hand on his chest to indicate himself, “Not mage.”
Her faced twisted in confusion. She began to rattle ideas about what she had seen. Mages cast magic, so wouldn’t that make mages the tool that casts the spell?
There are independently magic objects though. They are independently magical themselves and don’t require a person. So why was this object not lighting everything on fire all the time? How did Sandal command the direction of the fire? How could he have done so without saying a word? There was so much she didn’t know or understand.
As he listened to her he became fearful, like his father would be if he wasn’t relieving himself somewhere in the woods. Had he made a mistake in showing her this? How could he let her know that she needed to keep this between them? His lips tried to form words again but they would not come. He began to panic as she vocally marveled about how this small thing made everything in the world different to her.
His father had returned and saw that Sandal seemed to have retreated from his interactions with Dagna. She was rambling about magic this, magic that, Sandal must be a mage, Sandal should stay with her in the Tower, oh my goodness is it getting cold, can she see the item again?
“Sandal, what did you do?” His father’s worry was smeared across his face. Sandal gawked at the glowing item in his hand and at the fire place. It was telling of what he had done and what Dagna had seen. His poor boy might have made a big mistake.
“Dagna, Dagna…Dagna.” Bodahn pleaded with her. “Please, girl, be quiet for a moment.”
“But Sandal is amazing! How could you keep this to yourself? You are keeping this from people aren’t you? This could change everything about how magic is viewed, or how our own people are viewed. So many avenues could open up to us!”
“Dagna, shut it.” Bodahn brought out his Father Voice. Many know that warning voice: a deep, serious and commanding voice that appeared when you’d gone too far and were about to go to bed without dinner.
“Like I said, my boy is special. He’s no mage but certainly talented. I believe the recipe for making an enchanted item can’t be boiled down to just magic. It’s a recipe of craftsmanship like any pie or bow or potion. The ingredients are important, but not as much as the skill involved in crafting the item. My son has just figured out a way to craft items that don’t merely feed you, cloth you, or protect. He crafts items that can put a little bit of the Fade into the hands of normal people, like you and I. But he is no mage.”
Dagna saw the wisdom in what he was saying, but couldn’t help but feel like she wanted to scream from the tree tops about it. Despite the ill attitude towards magic on the surface she had always wished she was a mage. There was no Chantry to condemn mages in Orzammar and she would have deeply appreciated the gift. Or least she thought she would. She could never really imagine what it was like to walk in the shoes of a mage.
“Power of any kind can be deadly in the hands of someone who is…not good. As can knowledge. You’re a nice girl, Dagna, and a good person too…right?” Bodahn had come very close to Dagna and was staring into her hazel eyes, hoping that she’d relinquish this sudden awe and obsession.
“I’d like to think that I’m a good person…” she thought aloud.
“Please, then. Don’t say anything about my boy. He could be taken away. Or even experimented on. Could you do that to him?”
The young dwarf looked to Sandal who felt extremely vulnerable at that moment. He had started all this by showing off. He blamed himself entirely and it showed on his face. He hadn’t meant to make her feel guilty, he liked her, but he was now remorseful about his actions. Bodahn was usually right about these kind of things just
as he always had a keen eye for the right connections in trade.
Dagna felt herself redden in the face with shame. She had really let her enthusiasm get the best of her. She hadn’t even read a single proper book on magic outside of the Shaperate, and here she was making assumptions and demands of two people who had been nothing but kind to her. Surface dwarves need to stick together, right? She was a surface dwarf now and friends would not be in large supply.
“I’m sorry Bodahn…Sandal,” she mumbled from behind her downcast eyes lashes, “I would never want to do something that would bring trouble for either of you. I won’t say anything about what I have seen. At least not until I can replicate it on my own.”
Sandal looked up at her, perplexed by her goals, “R-replicate?”
“Now, now, you don’t need to go about fussing with all this magic, “Bodahn tried to reason, “I know you are very interested in it but wouldn’t it be much safer to just read about magic rather than…try to use it?”
Dagna was still wavering from shame about her behavior. Her voice was still low and her eyes only began to glance up at the two men again. “Why should we limit our knowledge of the world because of stone-cursed superstition? Anything can be dangerous, it’s not just magic. Your son does very well it seems. We are neither burning in flames or being dashed to bits by demons.”
Bodahn tilted his head to the side in admission and sighed, “You’ve got a point.”
Suddenly the three were startled by the sound of snapping twigs and the movement of the dark foliage around them. They each looked around them with suspicion seeking for the cause of the noise. Crack, twist, crunch, leaves and twigs were being snapped beneath the feet of something…but what? They found it in the snarling and slow prowl of a Blight Hound investigating the outskirts of their camp. Sandal was really wishing they had a Grey Warden with them right now.
The beast was the size of a wolf, but appeared larger due to its’ bristling fur. It was a dark creature whose eyes were dry and greyed over like the eyes of a dead thing left to the elements. Its’ teeth were broken and brown but no doubt deadly and full of strength. When it made proper visual contact with the dwarves it slowed it movement into a sinister prowl. Small things fell from its' fur…were those…insects? EWWWE.
“What is that thing!?” Dagna whispered in a hurried manner. She backed up slowly, full of fear.
“Blighted beast.” Bodahn whispered back, his hand then coming up to motion everyone for stillness. With any luck the damn beast will go away…oh who was he kidding, it was certainly going to try to eat them.
Sandal began rummaging in his pockets. His father reached into a pocket in his jacket and pulled out an aged flask whose contents were a mystery to the naked eye. Sandal knew the drill, but Dagna looked at Bodahn like he was crazy. “Now is not the time to stark drinking!”
Bodahn began pouring the contents of the flask on the ground in a crescent shape. With a flick of his wrist Sandal had used the fire rune to light the fluid on fire. A wall of flame gave some protection and caused the beast to snort droplets of blight filth in distaste for the fire in its path. The ichor from it’s teeth sizzled when it hit the flames, casting off a terrible odor. The fire was only a distraction that would not hold the beast’s attention for long.
“Mmm, uh, ergh, D-d-ag…ENCHANTMENT!” Sandal yelled at Dagna, motioning for his box of trinkets that was near the fire pit. It took her a moment in all the excitement to focus on what was expected of her. In a heartbeat she was scrambling for the box, but it was a heartawdbeat too long. The dark animal found its way around the wall of fire. Her scrambling only fueled the beast’s desire to hunt and kill.
Dagna’s hands were around the box when the beast found its way to her. Its’ filthy maw opened and lunged at her with such strength that it not only knocked her down but slid them both several lengths away from the camp. She’d turned with just enough speed to block its’ teeth and foul poison from touching her. Sandal’s box was not so lucky as Dagna had held it up to protect herself. The wood was creaking between the teeth of the animal and would surely break in its’ jaws with a few more measures of pressure.
Sandal reached for a branch from the fire of their camp and raced towards the animal. He swung the branch as hard as he could against the mangy back of fur. Small bits of lit ash exploded from the tips of the wood in a spectacle of orange, red and yellow into the dark atmosphere. The dead eyes of the animal turned slowly on Sandal. Sandal’s temporary bravery faded from him as their eyes locked. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Shit.”
No one noticed when it had happened, but an elf seemed to appear out of thin air, hands blazing with fire. “Oh, now you’ve really pissed it off!” With hands outstretched, a funnel of fire and heat blasted from the man’s hands and seared the Blight Hound. It hissed and yipped in surprise at the onslaught. The elf slowly circled the animal, maintaining eye contact and frowning slightly. He drew his staff and began to plug the creature with arcane bolts from its’ tip.
The animal snarled and snapped at the mage, but the mage took off running taking the animal with him.
Bodahn had found the musket he’d recently procured from an Orlesian trader. When he’d turned he saw the elven stranger taking off into a run. Sandal was just starting to feel the shock set in when immediate danger seemed to have subsided. Dagna had recovered much more quickly. She scrambled to her feet and handed Sandal the manged box of enchantments. “I believe you once said…boom? I hope you meant it literally.”
Sandal regained his composure and took the box. He reached into the broken square and retrieved an item. It was round, hollow, and encased in a thin and easily crushed metal. Small markings of arcane origin graced its’ front and back. It glowed yellow, not quite like a light but more like a miasma. Bodahn was now looking around furiously for any sign of either beast of elf. He didn’t need to search for long as the elf came scampering out of the treeline, “If it’s not obvious, I might need some assistance!” Bodahn aimed his gun and fired it at the beast. The knock back was substantial but he was a dwarf, strong like stone. He held firm. A black and red fluid sputtered from the hind quarters of the animal and slowed it. The elf was able to turn and fire a few arcane bolts, turning the fight around on the blighted beast. Now was the perfect opening Sandal had been waiting for. He found his voice, “Get back!” With a hard motion of his arm he hurled the trinket at the dangerous creature. Upon impact the animal seemed to explode like a grape between your fingers. The sky felt wet and dripped for several moments upon the entire camp. It was rather climatic.
Bodahn was at his son’s side in an instant, gun still in hand. “Are you ok?” He turned to the others in the camp, “Is everyone else ok?”
The elf frowned, “I’m owed a new outfit.” He tugged at the heavy splattering of black and red blood on his clothing. He touched his shaggy, brown hair and made sounds of disapproval. He would usually walk away from these encounters if he could and now he remembered why he avoided them. Messes.
Dagna was standing in obvious shock. Her eyes slowly scanned the area. She could not believe what had just happened. Bodahn approached her and put an arm on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. “It’s over now, we’re fine. Why don’t you sit down by the fire and we’ll start to clean up.” She followed the orders in a sluggish motion. Boy, oh boy, the surface was an interesting place.
Sandal approached the elf and held out his hand to him. “Thank you.”
“
You are not so very welcome. This was not the evening I had in mind.” The elf was exasperated and not the likely hero you’d have expected in these circumstances. He carried an air of, “Everything seems to bother me.”
“There I was,” the elf motioned towards the road, “minding my own business when I’m accosted by that blasted animal. Then it turned its’ back on me and took off towards your camp glow. I thought, gee, it must have found something more interesting than me. Good.”
He laughed to himself as he began to remove the top layer of his robes, “But of all the dark evenings to have a lapse in judgment, it was this one. You are three very lucky dwarves. Dare I say, I have a soft spot for dwarves.” Sandal couldn’t disagree with the lucky part. If this elf hadn’t showed up, they’d have been moments from death. They were not prepared for such a sudden onslaught.
“Sandal.” Sandal offered.
“No, I’m not wearing any.” The elf lifted his food to show dirty leather boots.
“No. Name. San-dal.” Sandal motioned to himself.
“Some people call me Sketch, I like to call myself Perpetually Annoyed.” Sandal laughed. He liked this elf and his manners. “Not that I want to impose but I think this situation warrants me a spot next to your fire and a meal this evening.”
Though Bodahn was occupied in comforting the quiet and wide eyed Dagna, he heard the conversation between Sandal and Sketch. “You’re damn right. You’ve got whatever we can provide you this evening.”
“Splendid.”
The three dwarves and elf surrounded the fire. Bodahn supplied them with a bucket of water and cloth to wipe themselves clean with. Sandal opened a large jar of ale and set to cooking some of their provisions. Dagna seemed to have quickly recovered and was rubbing her hands near the fire. She glanced sideways at Sketch and her peered back at her.
“Yesss?” He asked her.
“Are you a circle mage?”
“That’s a complicated question. Let’s just say I am a mage and leave it at that.” He leaned over to the jug of refreshments and filled his cup.
“So, you’re an apostate?” Dagna said with certainty.
“Sort of…” Sketch shifted under his weight uncomfortably and fidgeted with his drink.
“Since Orzammar doesn’t have mages we have to go on very little. I hear that apostates practice dark magic, eat babies and have orgies with demons in the moonlight. Or is that all story? I hope there is some truth to it because I’d love to hear a good bit of mage scandal!”
“Wh-what?! Maker’s breath…if this is true I have been misinformed.” Sketched waved his hand in front of him, a gesture meant to dismiss the rumors.
“I saw fire, but I assume you have some sort of magical specialty?” Sandal leaned in towards the conversation. He was curious about their new friend but didn’t have the words to ask.
“Healing, mostly. I am reasonable in a range of elemental abilities, as are most mages.” He brought the cup to his lips and imbibed the light ale. It was refreshing and made him feel much more comfortable with the conversation.
Dagna smiled brighter than she had since the attack. Sandal got the impression she did not get to speak with many mages. He assumed she’d been acquainted with Lady Amell but who knows what discussion they had between them.
“Why are most mages schooled in the elements?” She asked with genuine interest.
“Why are you so interested in mages?” Sketch parried.
“I’m headed to the Circle to study!” This opening allowed her to talk at great length about her interests and intentions at the circle. Sandal and Bodahn were relieved she made no mention of Sandal’s talents, nor did the mage seem to have taken note of it either. He seemed a private individual and that suited them all just fine. Well, maybe not or Dagna.
“I will be taking my leave of you in the morning then. I have no interest in the Circle.” Sketch stated in his calm voice.
“Where are you headed, if you don’t mind my asking?” Bodahn uttered between bites of food.
“I’m not sure right now. Maybe north, out of Ferelden.” Bodahn got the impression the elf knew where he was going, but did not want to give away too much. Elves had their secrets and mages…even more so.
“Family?” Sandal managed to ask.
“No. More like opportunity.” Sketch obviously didn’t want to talk much, or in great detail about anything. Dagna and Bodahn carried the conversation with ease, as they had the past few nights. Eventually they organized a watch for the evening, and the four got some rest. Dagna took a while to shut up.
~+~
Come morning, the three dwarves awoke to find their camp missing Sketch. There was nothing missing other than him, and he left nothing to indicate his return. Dagna sighed and wished aloud that he had stayed. She would have loved to have asked him more questions. Sandal would not have minded his company either.
“Don’t fret. We’re making good time to the Circle of Magi. You will be surrounded by books and mages that will content you for many years.”
Their next few days were spent with relative ease. No Blight Hounds attacking, no mages popping up, and no bandits to accost them. Bodahn stopped at a few caravans to do some trading and also sold a few items to travelers on their path. News had traveled to them that Lady Amell was granted the status of Warden Commander and was building the ranks of the Wardens in Amaranthine. It was nice to hear news of their former companion. Maybe they would head back north and see if she needed a trader in due time.
Upon reaching Lake Calenhad Dagna became jittery with excitement. She jumped out of the caravan and did a twirl on the spot. The small town connected to the docks were filled with merchants sending raw materials on small clipper vessels to the tower. The tower was rebuilding after a terrible incident that Lady Amell never felt comfortable speaking of at camp. Bodahn could take a good guess as to the devastation of the Circle dealt with by the types and amounts of goods being shipped.
He grew concerned for Dagna. The tower might not be up her expectations.
“Templars! Templars!” She sang with joy. “I have never seen a templar before! Can you believe it? I’m here!”
Sandal hoisted himself from his seat in the cart and gave their mule a firm pet. He smiled as he watched Dagna chirp and twirl in joy. He was happy for her, but sad to see her go. Dagna suddenly grasped his hands and spun him in a dance with her. “Sandal, it’s such a shame you can’t stay here with me! I bet we’d make quite the team! You’d be invaluable if you’d be willing to stay?”
He could not believe she was asking this of him. He never took the time to consider if he ever wanted to research enchantments or to do it full time. It wasn’t a bad idea, but his father’s warning were too loud in his mind. It was too sudden of a proposal for him to make any snap decisions on. He squeezed her hands back but shook his head. “Not today.” He said to her with a small smile.
“Then you must write to me. Often and at great length.” She mimicked writing in the air as if it added greater emphasis to her desires. “Write to me when you both are settled somewhere for awhile. I wouldn’t know where to send a letter to you until then!”
He nodded at her. He certainly intended to write. Suddenly it occurred to him that perhaps he could give her something to help her. He walked back to the cart and began to rummage around in his things. He looked for a notebook he’d been storing some of his thoughts in. He leafed through it and took out a few pages with some basic observations he had made about coaxing primal energy from metal and stone. He handed them to her and said, “A few h-h-hints.”
Dagna opened the pages and saw that it was the beginning of something big for her. She wrapped her arms around Sandal and gave him a generous hug. He felt his cheeks burn hot when she hugged him. It was almost humiliating to him that he felt such a deep and sudden reaction in his gut from her contact. When she pulled away she gave him a rough but jubilant kiss on his cheek. Before he could even register the further butterflies in his stomach she had dashed away with a skip in her step to the docks.
Bodahn watched with a big smile. He came up behind his son and slapped him on the back. “I never knew you were so good with the ladies, my boy!” Sandal watched as Dagna turned on her heels and waves goodbye to them. He was grateful that her goodbye was brief and in good humor. He, on the other hand, was quite a mess after that hug and kiss. How old was he again? Wasn’t this feeling left to young maids who read romance novels?
Bodahn noticed his son was entirely consumed by his blushing. He’d never seen his boy look this way and it made him chuckle. “So…something the matter?”
“Puberty.” Bodahn broke out into a fit of amusement. Sandal continued gazing out into the distance at Dagna as she was arranging her passage to the tower. He would certainly write her and he would write her soon.