Typically I would put this at the bottom, but I've decided to place it here as I find it to be important. Please bare with me and remember to check the end of this chapter, as there is new artwork to be posted.
I've finally caught up on my posting on Tapas. It turns out that chopping your chapters up into bite-sized portions when they aren't made for it is difficult and time-consuming. But I'm finally done.
Right now, your support on this new site, Tapas, is vital and could very well impact my future. It could help sway things in my favor as I am in the early stages of talking to Tapas about potential contracts and exclusivity, but nothing specific on that right now because it's early on its infancy. It's just when we get a bit deeper; I want to be able to point to my brand new Tapas account and be like, "Oh look, this is what my community was able to do in X amount of time."
And the shorter amount of time and the more significant the impact, the better it looks for me. I don't really have to explain how getting a ton of people to make an account on their website in support of me looks good. So, on a scale of 1-10, one being now is not the time, and 10 is the time, it's a 9.5. It's freaking time.
The timing of this is quite crucial, so I need you to make that account and leave that subscription because this could change my future forever. This is the first step to really taking this writing stuff super seriously and even making it a legitimate career for me that I can do full-time. And with that possibility comes more content, higher quality content, and maybe even something like a comic in the future. And I need your help to accomplish that.
I hope this is what I've been waiting for. Thanks to everyone who has helped push my dreams to places I never thought possible—especially those of you who have taken the time to go to other sites to leave reviews. I can comfortably say that you made a difference then, and now I'm asking for it again.
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I'll see you guys on November 21st at 6-9am PST.
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Padraic Whitehelm's POV
Ah, the smell of these beans truly is divine. Leave it to the Wood Elves to find these things, then put them in boiling water. Heh…I wonder how that first interaction went down. How did they even figure this out?
"Excuse me, sir? Would you like some assistance?" a friendly maid asked me.
"No thanks," I refused politely.
She reached out a hand to help me. "Are you—"
I slowly let out an exasperated deep breath as I turned to face the maid. "I think I can handle this much, Ma'am."
She took a step back from me and looked a bit hurt. It was a bit rude at the end, but it was too damn early to bother people, and I had already told her I was okay. What kind of person lives a life where they need their hands held to boil some beans? Just how self-absorbed do you have to be…
Whatever happened to enjoying the fruits of your labor?
The maid left me to brood while I sat in content silence. The sweet aroma of these beans wafted into my nose and tickled my nostrils. I personally didn't mind the bitter taste, but if these beans tasted as good as they smelled, the entire world would be drinking this stuff.
While the final drops were reaching my mouth, I slid off my seat and grabbed the bag beside me. I gave the damn thing one big swing, and the heavy sack smacked the counter with a loud metallic thud. Metal clanked around in the bag, and I sighed.
Damn counters are not being made for Dwarves. Would it at least kill'em to put a step stool or something? Or shorter seats?
I didn't even bother looking into the bag as I started stacking the black metal ingots on top of each other. They had a weird shine to them, and they ignited some kind of primal fire in the pit of my stomach. Just looking at these glorious pieces of material made me sweat in anticipation. And I was the one who made these things.
Well…I didn't make them…Dad did, but I helped…so that pretty much means I did it…yeah…
After getting approval from Mr. Shadowheart, my father was able to teach me the recipe to smelt these beautiful ingots. It was an ancient formula passed down by the heads of the Shadow Clan, and at first, I was curious as to why Kaladin's father knew it…but now I know why. They must have told him the same night he became the next chief.
At first glance, one would just assume that these are Mythril bars, but that would be incorrect. The magic is in the mixture, and the bars merely take on the same black appearance as Mythril. I couldn't be sure if it was done on purpose or as a byproduct.
I would, of course, like nothing more than to test my theories in a forge but ignoring the material cost, I had made a promise. Well, I had more or less been coerced into making a vow. And looking back at it…Kaladin's father was more than capable of keeping up his…promise. So all I had to do was never make these ingots for anyone other than Kaladin and his future family.
Seems like a fair deal to me. But that means he is going to need a lot of children, or I won't be able to experiment enough…that might not be a good thing. The more Kaladins in this world, the scarier it's going to get. At least Mila is adorable…I suppose.
What kind of weapon does she want? Maybe a lance? No…a sword…maybe a—
"You're up early," a deep voice called out to me.
I sucked in some of my drool before I turned my attention to the tall man standing in the doorway. I couldn't help but let out a snicker, my thoughts of weapons for the future gone in an instant.
"Yeah." I rubbed my face and felt myself grinning. "You got uh…a little something on your face there," I said while pointing at the spot on my face.
Kaladin rubbed his face and removed a few long strains of snow-white hair. His eyes narrowed at me, and I started laughing. "Oh…ahahah…you missed some in your hair."
He shook his head and ran his fingers through his shoulder-length raven-black hair. His fingers combed out multiple strains of white and orange hair. Kaladin just sighed.
"Long night, huh?"
Kaladin grumbled to himself and took a seat across from me. "You could say that."
Ah…so it was a long night. The man still looks dead tired. He must have slept like crap. He's changed…he's changed so damn much. But at the same time…he really hasn't. Why do I feel that way?
He raised his dark eyebrows at me, and I felt myself staring at his new Dragon eye. Yeah…he's changed a whole lot, at least on the outside. What happened to the child that had a permanent scowl on his face? I sort of miss it.
"So, when did you start waking up early? I thought you'd die before rising before the sun," Kaladin snickered.
Tch. He's even got jokes now, even if they suck.
"Well, you know how it is. Tits for brains was too focused on her training to nab a morning quest or food, so somebody had to do it. I'm surprised she isn't awake right now. It might be the first time she hasn't woken up early in six years."
Kaladin's face morphed into one of pain. A deep sadness seemed to sink into him for a moment, but he shook it off. "Tits for brains? That seems a bit much, no?"
Ah, so he still cares about her, huh?
I scoffed at him. "Yeah, any knowledge you think you imparted on her got sucked up by those meat sacks dangling from her chest."
"You don't actually mean that do you?" Kaladin asked me softly.
No…I don't…
"Only partially," I grumbled.
Kaladin smiled to himself and wrinkled his nose. "You want some?" I asked while hopping back down and fetching another cup.
"Yeah, if you don't mind sharing. And uh…what's with these black bars?"
I stopped myself short because I had honestly been expecting him to say no. I was gonna pour him a cup and have him try it regardless so this was unexpected. "Wait? When did you start drinking something other than water? Who are you, and what did you do with my friend?!"
Kaladin waved me away, but I didn't miss that smile on the corner of his mouth. "It's nothing. I just drank it a few times because I prefer it over tea, and…well…it reminded me of home."
Oh…that's not very funny. I guess Jinx Beans are from Syn'nari.
"Sorry," I mumbled.
I slid the cup to him as he grabbed one of the bars. "This right here is your birthday gift. Happy late tenth birthday, Kal," I said, changing the subject quickly.
Kaladin took a long sip while examining the bar in his other hand. His golden eye seemed as if it was trying to discern the authenticity of the product, but the man put it down and shrugged.
"Mythril, huh? I've never seen this stuff in its material form before. It's far lighter than I was expecting. Was this supposed to be what my father wanted for my tenth birthday? Oh, and thank you for taking care of it all this time. I appreciate it," he said while looking over at me. "Hey…why are you smiling like that?"
"Because it's not just Mythril. It's your family's special little blend. I'll have you know that making all those ingots busted the family forge even though it was worth it. You should have seen the look on my dad's face when those bad boys came out of the cast," I said with a chuckle.
Kaladin smiled softly. "I can imagine it. It probably looked a lot like yours."
"Damn smooth talker…"
Kaladin laughed after finishing another sip. "What's the matter? Why are you turning red there, Padraic?"
"Shut it! You are the one that walked down here all gloom and doom this morning!"
Kaladin's smile widened. "Yeah, I guess I was. It's just talking to you like this really brings back memories. I forgot how much I missed this."
Gah…he's gonna make me cry.
"Do you miss your family? Are you…going to go back to them?" he asked.
I shrugged. "Nah, probably not. I figured wherever I went I could always return home in a few decades. My folks aren't that old, after all. Besides, my father would disown me if I came home without learning something. My moms may just kill me if I don't find a wife either…they were really starting to nag me…gah…can't they understand that a man has a dream? Why can't that come first?"
Kaladin just sat there with a fond smile. It made me embarrassed for him to look at me like that. Like, I was his damn son growing up and leaving the nest or something.
"Anyways…" I groaned, doing my best to suck in the approaching tears. "We clearly decided not to make you the weapon…considering you know…everything that happened. But I do have all the parts now that your father is here."
"I see…I understand." A faint smile spread across his lips when he looked at me.
"What…what is with that creepy smile there, huh? What are you planning?" I asked cautiously.
Kaladin again picked up the pitch-black metal bar to eye me suspiciously, as if the previous look he gave me wasn't enough. "Oh, don't worry about it. I have a few surprises for you later. Just have to make some moves first. Also, I don't see any difference between this and Mythril. Just how different is it? And can you start forging now?"
Surprises? From Kal? Ah…man…should I be excited or afraid?
I should probably be afraid.
I suppressed the rising glee in my heart and nodded. "If you want to know how it's made, that's a question for your father. I swore to him that I would only make the stuff for you and your family and that I wasn't allowed to share the exact details with anyone, including you. If I had to guess…he wants to tell you himself," I told him.
Kal eyed me to continue talking. "But…what's different about it and if I can forge it now?" I said, waving my hands. "Well…that depends on our meeting today. And the difference? A whole lot. Honestly, I felt more like a mad doctor making this stuff than a smith. I have no idea how the Shadow Clan went and found out about this stuff. It was down to an exact formula that I'd never seen. It's almost like they stumbled upon some ancient book or something… especially since it's not like The Shadow Clan have forges to make the stuff, being a nomadic tribe and all."
"It's that unbelievable? Well, if it's coming from you, then it must be. I wonder…does that mean the Shadow Clan has been contracting Dwarves to make this alloy for all these years? Would Dwarves really keep a secret—"
"Absolutely," I interrupted. "Any Dwarf that calls himself a smith would honor the request of your clan not to tell a soul. The honor of making this metal is enough to fill the pride of any Dwarf's heart. And if they were as persuasive as your father…nobody would be foolish enough to scorn your clan. Besides, the bragging rights that must come from working with the famous Shadow Dancers probably last for generations."
Kaladin grunted. He didn't seem convinced about our honor. He set the ingot back down. "Care to tell me at least one special thing about these?"
"They have dungeon core shards inside them."
Kaladin stopped himself from taking a sip and slowly lowered his cup. "What?" His purple Dragon eye glowed faintly, then focused as a lizard would. His face morphed into surprise. "What the…what is this?"
"So what happens when your eye gets all glowy like that?" I asked.
His serious eyes bore into me. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I felt as if I was about to be attacked, but then, it vanished. "I believe I can see people's souls and mana, well I think those two things are connected. Including yours."
He can see…souls? And what was with that intense gaze? Is that the feeling of somebody looking into your very soul?
"Oh…yeah…that's totally normal. So uh…what does it look like?" I asked.
"Odd, your soul, that is. For some reason, yours seems to be focused more in your arms and hands…I've never seen a soul like this before. And I don't understand why I see some kind of odd symbol there on your right hand," Kal said as he squinted. His glowing Dragon eye narrowing like a lizard.
He held the bars to the fresh morning light that was beginning to steam in from the window. "These bars do have a surprising amount of mana in them… more than I would expect from hearing that you put dungeon shards inside. Were they of high quality? Or shards from dungeons with lots of floors?" he asked me.
I frantically looked at my hands only to mentally smack myself for thinking I could actually see my damn soul. "Yes, they were, but wait a damn second. What do you mean my soul is odd, huh? A symbol? Have you been taking drugs, Kal?"
He shrugged while taking a sip. "I suppose I have, just not recently."
What? How can he just say that with a straight face? This guy…I think he may be joking, but he's too damn serious for his own good…I'm gonna ask him about that later.
"Explain. What do you see exactly?"
The glowing around his purple eye ceased, and he sighed. "I have no idea. Most people's souls appear to manifest in their chests and spread out to their limbs. Indeed, the 'center' of your soul is still your chest…but it's almost like there is a second 'center' in your hand. And it's brighter than even your 'center' at your chest. I've never seen that symbol, so don't ask me what it means. I've looked at the souls of a few Dwarves, even a half-Dwarf, and none of them have what you have," Kal explained.
"So…I'm special?" I said, trying to stop myself from grinning too much.
What does this mean? Maybe…maybe I am special?
Kal snorted and stood up from his seat. "You could say that." He let out a great big yawn and looked out the window. "Sun's up. I suppose I gave them enough time to get ready, so I should head out."
"Where ya going?"
"To work out with some friends," he responded casually.
Friends, huh? I'd like to see that.
"I'll join you. I missed my morning workout the last few days."
Kaladin looked surprised at that. "Oh? You work out in the mornings? You truly have become a morning person." He walked over to me, grabbed my arm, and then poked me in the side. His eyes narrowed into sharp daggers. "You haven't been running much, have you?"
Ah, crap.
—
"S—sl—slow down…damn it…your legs…gah…you should have stayed short, you bastard," I groaned.
Kaladin was jogging in place, not even a bead of sweat on his body. "What? It's your fault you neglected your stamina, not mine."
"D—Dwarves just aren't meant to run…we go fast…for very short distances…that's it. Enough to run down a damn tunnel…away from monsters… LIKE YOU! Gah—I mean! Look at you! One step for you is like four for me you Troll!" I argued between pained breaths.
Kaladin didn't seem impressed. "Okay. And? How does that stop you from running more?" I tried to catch my breath, only for Kaladin to sigh at me like a disappointed parent. "Just keep going. We are almost at the training grounds. From now on, you need to run at least every other day or third day. It's good for you."
Bah…good for me!? I'll show you what's good for me!
"Sorry that I'm not like you and Cerila! I'm sure you would be very pleased if you saw just how much she trained..."
He averted his eyes. "She trains that much, huh?"
A bit of mental payback…but this is also good for him. I'm not sure how he feels about that Vamp, but there is something there. I don't know whether he knows it or not…or whose side I'm even on…but I can at least try.
"She does. She's practically dedicated her life to you," I said bluntly.
He stopped jogging in place, and I swore he looked afraid for a moment. "She what?"
I stood up and took in a single deep breath of fresh air. My lungs burned and my feet ached. My damn shoes were too small…
"You heard me. She has dedicated her life to you, Kal. Every day she woke up and trained to the bone. She did it for you," I growled, sounding a bit more aggressive than I intended.
"I…I don't—"
"Understand?" I interrupted. "I know you don't. And I'm gonna guess she neglected to tell you just what happened after you disappeared. Do you want to know?" I asked him cautiously.
He hesitated for a long while until he furrowed his brows and nodded. "When your parents found her after the attack, she locked herself in your room for days. She didn't eat or drink anything for three whole days. We tried to get her to come out, even if it was just to drink some water, but she wouldn't even make a sound. Finally, your father had to kick the door down and force her to drink water. It was terrible. If I could go back, I wish I never saw her like that. She looked worse than when we found her at the bottom of that closet."
The purple leaves of the trees surrounding us swayed as a cold breeze ran past us. A deep shadow seemed to consume Kaladin as he gazed into the ground. "I must have caused you all far more grief than I imagined."
"You did, but it's not your fault, Kal," I told him softly.
This conversation isn't to make him feel bad. It's to get him to think. And to realize just how much she cares.
"After all that went down, I saw that Grandpa Jacobs had gone to visit her. The following day, the two of them were training in the yard. Every morning and every night, she trained her body and her magic. She stopped going to school entirely, and whenever I came over to visit, she looked like she had been abused again."
"What? Why? What was going on with her? Couldn't Grandpa just heal her?" he asked me.
I shook my head as I remembered the vivid scenes of Cerila, barely able to lift a spoon to her mouth because she had trained her arms so much. Or the time she got hit so hard in the jaw she couldn't eat for two days. Then there were…ah…so many incidents.
"She refused to let your grandpa heal her. It was part of her training regimen, or so she told me. But that's not the real reason. She was doing it to numb the pain of losing you. At least, that's what I think. Not even your parents could convince her to slow down. Anytime they reprimanded her, she just trained twice as hard," I told him.
"I think…I think she blamed herself for letting you get captured. She was the older kid…she wanted to protect you, but she thinks she failed," I said with a sigh. "Of course, this is all just me assuming. She never once told me any of these things…I sort of just…pieced it all together."
Of course, she loves him as well…that's plain as day. If that's not love, then I don't know what it is.
Kaladin stared blankly ahead, his eyes closed and his fists balled. Heh…looked just like the old him. "She did that for years until her fifteenth birthday. We had a huge celebration for her the previous night, but when I woke up in my own home the following morning, she was sitting in my room, in the dark, in complete silence. She told me she was leaving to find you, and I had a choice, go with her or stay in the village," I recounted.
"And you went with her…"
"Obviously." I sighed at Kaladin and looked up into the clear morning sky. "It wasn't so bad, being an adventurer and all. We had some, uh…close encounters, but we made it out alright. I can't say it was the worst experience of my life. It taught me a whole bunch of stuff. Besides, we were real close to finding you."
"You were? Where did Avasta pick you up?" he asked me.
"A few days outside Sandervile. We heard rumors of a mixed Dark Elf slave boy with long black hair who wandered through Ostela a few years ago. Most people had already forgotten you, considering it had been five years, but there was one gate guard in the upper city of Ostela that recognized your description. From there, we tracked you down until we heard about an escaped Dark Elf assassin in Sandervile. We figured that it was you and went straight there, but there were no signs of you. We took a gamble and figured you fled to The Barrens. We were wrong. We spent nearly a year there until word of a masked adventurer killing a Wyrm in a dungeon reached us. Something in my gut told me that was you…"
Kal didn't comment on anything this time, and I shook my head. I gave him a hearty slap on the back and started jogging again. "I didn't tell you all that so you would feel bad about what happened. Wipe that doom and gloom off your face and come to a decision already. How can you be so decisive in battle to the death, but the second it comes to being social, you lock up? Do I have to tell Cerila to try and kill you for you to understand just how much you mean to her?"
"How do you know if you love someone, Padraic?"
I stopped dead in my tracks. I had never heard him speak like that before. Was he worried? Anxious? Sad? Angry? Confused? What was he feeling?
And how do I even begin to answer that…when I don't even know the answer myself.
"Not sure. I never loved anyone before. I mean I love my parents and of course you guys, but we are family as well… it's just different," I said with a shrug. "Have you asked anyone else?"
"Yeah…I got a whole bunch of different answers," he said flatly.
Man…leave it to this guy to need a definition or realistic example. He can create brand new types of magic that nobody has ever seen before, but the man can't figure out his own feelings. Is love maybe just too abstract for someone like him? He's always been pretty piss-poor with his emotions. He used to just get angry and sad…now he gets furious and depressed.
Puberty must have smacked him like an anvil from the sky…oh…wait, it did. You know…what if…
"What if you just have to experience it? Put yourself out there and see what happens," I told him. "Unless you are afraid…" I sneered.
"Afraid, huh?"
"Hey? Wait! I didn't mean it like that! Don't sound so damn down…gah! Just start running…." I groaned.
This is going to be a long day…
I should have stayed home.
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Here is the brand new artwork that got completed. It's of Grandpa Jacobs as well as Lin+Nyx. There is another piece which will be the new Vol.7 cover. That will be sent out when the time comes. There is also a fourth secret artwork that will be revealed in the next Volume as well.
https://imgur.com/gallery/wzveWwb
https://imgur.com/gallery/E7xC16g