Here is the artwork for Kaladin's mother and father. As well as Padraic and Cerila.
https://imgur.com/a/9rjEOMR
---
"Hey, man. Kaladin, right? You ever heard of runesmiths?"
I was still in the middle of my brooding when this short kid just sauntered over and haymakered me with his words. Just the way he spoke to me completely threw me off and made me forget my angry thoughts.
At first glance, I thought he was a young Human child, but that didn't make sense. He had white hair, and his physique was too muscular to be that of a child. So he was probably a Dwarf.
Actually, he looked oddly familiar.
"Hello? You okay?" the young Dwarf asked me with his arms across his chest. "I'm trying to talk to you."
I snapped myself out of my funk to respond, "Sorry. Runesmiths? What are those? And who are you?"
"I'm Padraic Whitehelm, the world's next best runesmith of course!" he screamed at me. Of course, he was just shouting at me in full force.
I think Cerila might be able to hear this kid at this point.
"And runesmiths are… well runesmiths, you know? They make runes and put them on things. Like the wards around the village."
How descriptive of you, Padraic.
"That's cool… and nice to meet you, Padraic." But, wait, Whitehelm, wasn't that the name of the Dwarf at the forge? I knew it…
"Are you Mr. Whitehelm's son, the forge owner?"
"Yup. That old man is my dad!" he said proudly.
"I see… I just met your dad the other day."
"He probably tried to scam you, huh? Old fart is just like that. Sorry if he did." The way he apologized made it seem like it was a common occurrence.
Padraic was so jarringly different from his father it was hard to believe he was his son. Padraic's presence felt like a short, muscular ball of energy, while his dad seemed like the shrewd businessman type.
"Anyways. Who is this? I don't remember her doing an introduction today. Nice to meet you too," he extended his hand towards Cerila and she looked surprised. Not wanting to let things get awkward I stepped in.
"She can't hear you. You can use her stone if you want to talk to her," I informed him kindly.
"Oh. Like she can't hear me at all?" he asked with genuine interest.
"Yes, she can't hear you at all. But she can read your lips, though."
"Oh… sorry, I didn't know that."
It didn't seem like Padraic was being mean-spirited like the other kids, just a little surprised. His apology, although not needed, seemed genuine.
"It's fine. I'm sure Cerila would like to talk to you. Can you read and write very well? And control your mana?" I asked him.
"I can read and write. But my mana control isn't all that good. My dad just started teaching me last year, and Ms. Sandra has only taught us a little," he admitted.
"It might be hard, but I am more than happy to translate for you," I told him.
"Yeah, please."
Padraic gave Cerila a friendly wave as I filled her in on the last few moments. Then, I facilitated simple greetings between the two of them when Ms. Sandra called us back into the class.
Padraic followed us all the way back to our table and sat down with us. I just kind of stared at him in surprise. Nobody had even bothered to sit at this back table with us. Some of the kids even doubled up at tables to avoid us. But Padriac didn't seem the least bit bothered.
"It's okay if I sit with you guys, right?" he asked while already sitting down.
"Sure. It's up to you. Are you sure you wanna sit with us?"
No doubt about it, it only took half a day of class to become outcasts here. Padraic throwing his lot in with us didn't seem to be the wisest social move.
"That's why I'm sitting here," Padraic said confidently.
Your funeral, kid.
—
The rest of the class was uneventful. Ms. Sandra changed from arithmetic to Elvish for the second half of course. It was nothing I needed to pay attention to. Cerila and I left school for our daily training session with Grandpa when Padraic decided to tag along.
"Hey, what are you guys doing after school today?" Padraic asked.
"We are going to train and study with my Grandpa."
"Ah, that's cool. I'm going to go work with my dad today," he said idly with a proud smile.
I wonder if he wanted to run the forge someday. Then again, he said something about being a runesmith. I had never heard of runesmiths.
"You should come by the forge some time. I'll make you something really cool if you want," he offered while raising his eyebrows up and down at me.
"I might take you up on the offer. A new hunting knife would be nice. I'm just using my Dad's old one."
Getting a new knife sounded kind of fun. Especially if I could watch, I understood how metal weapons were forged, but I've never seen it done before. It might be another valuable skill I could learn.
Wait, was it weird that a five-year-old wanted a knife? Meh, who cares.
But I wanted to know more about these runesmiths. "Hey, Padraic, what does a runesmith do?"
He scratched his chin like his dad did while counting my scales. "Sorry. I kind of explained it like an idiot earlier," he said sheepishly and flushing with embarrassment. "But to make it simple. Runesmiths use a series of runes on something to change how it works. Runes were created by us Dwarves, and we have been practicing runecraft for centuries."
"How do runes change things? Also, I was told the wards around the village were created by a Human?" I countered.
"This is true. A Human found the correct sequences of runes for the wards, to much shame of us Dwarves. It should have been us that found the sequence," Padraic spoke with a voice not of regret but determination.
He must be really passionate about runes and such. He continued, "Runes are the only way we can mimic the abilities of dungeon items. Some runes are pretty simple, like keeping armor from rusting or making a blade sharper. And the best of the best can even add rune sequences that allow items to have schools of magic!" I swore the swirling of his irises were molding into stars.
Not wanting to let Cerila out, I began to translate while we walked. It was difficult since this tablet is so damn heavy.
"So. What's the difference between someone using their mana to create manaweave and somebody using runes?" I asked. If runes existed, what was the point of using mana to imbue things?
"They are different. Items that have been imbued like manaweave actually need a constant source of mana to work, and they aren't all that strong. Some manaweave can give you protection from magic as well but, well, that's kind of hard to do I think. People can create items like a magic wand that acts as a conduit for spells but lack the internal mana source that dungeon items have. It's minuscule in most cases, and the more intense the enhancement, the more mana that is required and the higher quality of materials you need. Not to mention that the crafter has to be extremely skilled," Padraic explained.
Wow. For a kid who was only like seven years old, he knew a lot about this.
Padraic rolled his shoulders and continued, "Runes are forever and require no outside mana to work. Just like items found in dungeons that have their own mana source."
Cerila tugged my arm to get my attention.
I read off what she said to Padraic. "What! RUNES ARE AMAZING!" he shouted, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.
"Okay, okay… sorry. Runes are amazing…" I told him.
He is VERY passionate about runes. Cerila didn't need to hear to see how excited the young Dwarf had become.
"But you are right… runes are difficult to create. Not every Dwarf can be a runesmith. You need to have not only the skills and natural ability but the correct tools to be a runesmith. Runes also have to be maintained, and if they are broken, only a runesmith can fix them. And finding sequences is a difficult task. It's taken Dwarves centuries just to find some of the basic rune sequences for regular use. And runes can get pretty big, so you need a lot of space to put them on things. That's why you can only have so many sequences on a single item," Padraic lectured on.
Mmm, it seems becoming a runesmith wasn't such an easy feat, and magical items found in dungeons were still superior for the most part.
From what I knew about magic items, you could have two staves for a mage. A person created one staff and the other was found in the dungeon. The manufactured staff acted as a conduit for the mage and allowed them greater control over their spells which lessened the cost of the spell. Still, the efficiency of the created staff depended on the quality of materials and the artisans' skills.
And the mage's skill played a part in using the staff itself. So even if you gave a Novice level mage a master-crafted Dwarven staff of the highest quality possible, they wouldn't become that much stronger. But a Master level mage with that same staff would become even more powerful.
Then there was a staff found in a dungeon. The effects varied, as did the efficiency, but it was a safe bet that most high-end dungeon items were just superior in every way. However, some dungeon items were utterly useless. A dungeon staff of similar quality allowed the mage far better control over their magic, and could even enable some non-mages to cast spell cores directly from the dungeon staff at no mana cost from the user.
The only real downside to dungeon items was just how random they could be, and you had to risk your life to get your hands on one or pay a large sum of money. But then again, getting a crafted piece of enchanted gear also costs enormous sums of money.
I had yet to read up on dungeons themselves, but I knew a little bit about them as well. From what my dad told me, they are almost like living instances of mana. These dungeons form a central core that absorbs mana, attracting monsters and people alike.
It's unknown what causes dungeons to appear and what they exactly are. But people make good money going into them and retrieving items that defy the expected standards of magic and mana in this world, as long as you can survive the mission, that is. Dungeons are hazardous as well, according to Mom at least.
Cerila's tablet is an example of an item found in the dungeon. But I wonder what else could be found in them. I mean who would have thought of a tablet you can write on to be an item found in a dangerous dungeon?
It didn't seem it was just weapons and armor found in the depths of these dungeons. Could you find nearly anything in them if you got lucky enough? I had lost myself in my train of thought when Padraic interrupted my internal recap with an abrupt shout.
"Anyways! One day, I'll be a runesmith just like my forefathers. And I'll create new rune sequences that will change the world!" he declared to no one in particular.
"Why do you want to be a runesmith?" I asked curiously.
To see someone so young so passionate about something had surprised me. Or maybe I was just being weird.
"My dad tells me stories about my uncle who is a runesmith and how amazing he is. And that being a runesmith runs in our blood. So I want to be a part of those stories one day. After all, somebody has to make the hero's weapon, and that Dwarf will be me," he said proudly while double fist-pumping the air. "Besides, my dad told me that girls love runesmiths."
I'm sure they do...
"Hey, Kaladin, what do you wanna be one day?" Padraic asked me curiously.
"I don't know…" I responded honestly.
I wasn't sure what I wanted to do in my new life. I just knew I didn't want to be a tool for anybody anymore. I didn't have any dreams of grand adventure, I've already been across the stars, and that didn't work out very well for me in the end.
Was it so wrong of me to want nothing and just live a simple life?
In all honesty, I was content with my current lifestyle. I enjoyed the slow pace of everyday life in Owlkirk village. There were some downsides of course. The local kids are ruthless, and we don't get along very well.
It probably doesn't help that I often struggle with my new emotions even now. And I find myself to be very awkward in most situations, unsure what to do or say and just wanting to act upon these new base emotions.
But that didn't matter all too much in the grand scheme of things. I'll continue to fail and learn from my mistakes. Besides, my family and friend were here, and I was happy too.
A simple life doesn't sound so bad to me.
Spending my days with Dad training, watching Mom make manaweave clothing and cook dinner, spending my free time with Cerila, I enjoyed all of these things very much. I guess I was truly at peace with everything for the most part.
All those years ago, Heimdall asked me to think about my future after the war, and I promised him I would think about it. I wonder if he would have been happy with my decision.
"Maybe I'll just be a hunter like my dad or learn to make manaweave like my mom," I said thoughtfully.
I watched as Padraic's eyes glazed over, "BOR-ING!"
—
It's been four months since I met the young Dwarf named Padraic and started school with him and Cerila. Every day has fallen into a peaceful rhythm. First, wake up, workout with Dad. If I have school, then go to school with Padraic and Cerila. Then, leave school and train with Grandpa.
Spend the rest of the day with Cerila learning sign language or doing self-study on the Human and Beastmen language. Unfortunately. I've had to slow down on the Beastmen language and have fully dedicated myself to learning the Human language first. Regarding school, well, it has been rough, to say the least.
Cerila's brother and his posse don't even bother to hide their outright disdain for the two of us anymore. Ms. Sandra sits idly by, allowing it to happen, not even bothering to stop them. Those kids who don't outright ignore us keep their distance, not wanting to get involved.
I truly believe my time there is limited. I could easily teach Cerila and Padraic everything Ms. Sandra could and more. Sitting around and taking this abuse makes no sense, but Mom has started working all morning again, and leaving school would disrupt her schedule, so I'm conflicted. I should talk to my parents about this kind of stuff.
But in the meantime, I'm heading to Mr. Whitehelm's forge to take Padraic up on his offer on forging me something on our day off. I broke my hunting knife last week after I fell from a tree while trying to take down another Santhred, those brown lizards that jump from tree to tree.
Of course, Dad thought it was absolutely hilarious that I lost my balance and tumbled from a tree with enough force to break the tang of a knife. My bruised behind, not so amused.
"Ayo, Kal, good morning," Padraic greeted me while attempting to wipe the black soot off his face but just ended up reapplying more.
"Morning. What are you working on?"
I found it fascinating that this hunk of heated metal he was holding would become something useful in the end. Forging was indeed an exciting craft. After all, I was never really a creator, just a destroyer in my previous life.
"Well, your knife, of course! You told me at school you broke yours, so I figured I'd get a headstart. Kinda forgot you wake up before the sun does… you're kinda weird, man," Padraic narrowed his eyes at me like I was some kind of monster.
"I train in the mornings. It's better to beat the humidity before it gets too bad," I told him matter of factly.
"Psh… I'd rather get some more sleep. Who wants to wake up early and get all nasty," Padraic said with a snort.
I gave the boy a sly grin as the realization of his double standards weighed on him.
"Isn't that what you are doing right now?"
"Listen. I'm doing this for a friend, okay? My dad doesn't even wake up this early to work!" he screamed at me.
Although Padraic could be a little too much sometimes, I liked being friends with this little Dwarf. Even though he was taller than me, he was the exact opposite of Cerila. Loud and lively was the best way to describe him.
It was never a dull moment with him. I swear Padraic could use some type of special magic that could make any situation awkward at everyone's expense besides his own. Padriac was a social genius.
I wondered what he often thinks about, if anything really.
"Besides, where is your girlfriend? She is practically attached to you at all hours of the day. I'm surprised she doesn't sleep in the same bed as you," he asked me, unable to hide his shit-eating grin.
I let out a deep sigh. He always manages to make things awkward.
"Aright, sorry. Touchy subject for you. Got it. Definitely won't do it again." Padriac said as his serious facade broke down in a smile again as I stared straight through him.
"She is busy practicing magic with my Grandpa this morning. So it's just you and me…sadly."
Padraic feigned being stabbed in the heart and stumbling over when who I could only assume to be his mother walked outside. "What are you doing out here so early, Pady?"
She looked just like her husband, muscles and all with long salt and pepper hair that fell to her shoulders, and she had female anatomy, of course. But that wasn't important right now. Instead, what was important was the nickname Pady.
I could feel my mouth spread into a shit-eating grin of my own as she questioned her son. Poor Pady's face changed from his usual tan to beet red in an instance.
"Yeah, PA-DY? What are you doing?" I asked mockingly.
Padraic looked at me mortified. His eyes screamed at me like I had actually stabbed him.
Serves you right.
"Nothing, Mom! Don't call me that in front of my friends!" Padraic pleaded as he weakly punched his mother.
"Sorry, dear. I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of your friend," Ms. Whitehelm said while smiling at her squirming son. "You must be Kaladin. It's nice to finally meet you. Padraic talks about you a lot now."
"Hopefully, nothing bad. It's nice to meet you too, Ms. Whitehelm," I said politely.
She gave me a small wave and spoke softly, "Well, I'll leave you boys alone. It was nice meeting you Kaladin. But be safe now, okay? "
"Of course, Ms. Whitehelm," I droned off.
"Yes, Mom…" Padraic groaned.
I thought it might be weird to leave two young boys unattended, using a furnace to melt metal and forge weapons. But Ms. Whitehelm didn't even seem the least bit bothered. Then again, my own dad took his five-year-old son hunting shortly after being attacked by monsters and nearly dying.
I guess kids just grow up fast in this harsh world. Or maybe forging is just a part of Dwarven family life?
Ms. Whitehelm went back inside, and I just couldn't help myself with my newfound information. "So, Pady, how is the knife coming along?"
Padraic grabbed me by the tunic and begged me, "I promise never to call Cerila your girlfriend ever again as long as you NEVER EVER breathe the name Pady out loud to anyone. Deal?"
It was somewhere between a half-hearted threat and a desperate plea, but I could accept these terms.
"Deal."
The embarrassment faded from his rosy cheeks as he took some deep breaths and steeled himself.
"Alright, let's get to work."
—
Padraic and I spent the entire morning and early afternoon together as I observed the process of creating my knife. I watched as Padraic hammered away and reforged the slab of metal into the shape of a blade.
He worked the entire time, only stopping to reheat the metal when needed. I could only admire how different this side of Padraic was. He had the same intensity during his work as his father did when I first saw him at the forge. It appeared he wasn't just passionate about runesmithing but forging as well.
I wonder if this is a trait of the Dwarven people? My father always told me how excellent Dwarven craftsmanship was, that as a race, they produce some of the highest quality items money could buy. But I guess that comes with experience…
"Here you go, all done!" Padraic proudly handed me the small hunting knife.
The knife was clearly made from low-quality scrap iron, and the hilt was bound in a rough tan leather. That knife was… as good as a seven-year-old boy could make for his first time. But it was sharp and would serve its purpose.
"Thanks. What do I owe you?" I asked.
"Nothing! It's a gift dummy. Besides, I need to work on forging, so it's good practice for me."
I see... a gift. Maybe this knife wasn't so bad after all.
"Thanks, Padraic. I'll put it to good use," I promised. But I wondered if he wanted to try his hand at creating a rune?
"Hey, do you wanna try and put a rune on it? Even just a simple one?" I asked.
"If I could, I would. I'm not ready yet. And I don't have the proper tools to make a rune, not yet at least," Padraic had a massive grin as he pumped his first into the air.
"But don't you worry! I'll make you the best rune weapon the world has ever seen one day!"