Sindal sat on a low bench, admiring his diamond ring in the low torchlight for the umpteenth time that morning. Its gold band was tarnished, but the two carat diamond gleamed and sparkled after being wiped down several times. His mother had given it to him with a demand to find a wife soon, or be forced from her home. He didn't see what the big deal was, really. His work in the Malforia mines made him happy, and they didn't want for money.
A whistle tore through the air, signaling the end of lunch. Sindal covered his ears, wondering if the sound of the pickaxes or the constant whistling of the foreman would eventually deafen him like so many other miners. An older dwarrow caught sight of him and rolled his eyes. He made a point of walking up to Sindal and bumping his shoulder, hard. The diamond ring was flung out of his hand and bounced off the ground, into the dark.
"Damnit! See what you made me do?!" Growled Sindal, but the dwarrow had already disappeared into the mine shaft. Sindal huffed and grabbed a torch from a nearby wall. He set off in search of his diamond ring. It had made a pleasant ringing sound when it bounced, and rolled for a few seconds before it came to a stop, so he knew it had gone pretty far. Still, he was unprepared for the twenty minutes of searching he had to endure when it didn't turn up in the immediate area. He thought about returning to work and searching again after his shift ended, but he didn't trust his coworkers not to pocket it if they found it. It was worth more than a half day of work, anyway, so he decided to continue his search alone, until it was found.
Eventually, Sindal found it. Sort of. He heard a distinct ringing and saw a sparkle of light when his foot kicked something behind a cartful of coal. It bounced down a flight of stairs, and rolled to a rest on the floor of a long hallway. Letting out a sigh of relief, Sindal took the stairs one at a time and stooped to pick his ring up. Just then, another dwarrow came out of nowhere and ran straight into him, knocking the ring out of his hand again.
"Are you kidding me?!" Shouted Sindal. "Watch where you're going!"
"YOU watch where YOU'RE going!" Shouted the dwarrow lass. "This is an express tunnel!"
"A what?" Sindal pulled a face of utter confusion. The lass pointed behind him. "You lost something," she smirked. Sindal whirled around. The diamond was still rolling down a long, long hallway that sloped downward.
"Aye!" His voice wavered as he took off after it. As it turns out, it's hard to keep up with a half gram diamond ring reaching free fall when you're a hundred pound dwarf trying not to fall head over heels. The ring did, eventually, come to a stop, and Sindal along with it. He stooped and picked it up again, placing it carefully in his pocket. Then he observed his surroundings while he caught his breath. They seemed familiar, like the architecture seen around Malforia mine, so he couldn't have gone far. A long hallway full of doors on either side opened to his left. To his right, an identical one. A few signs had been hung, but they were largely unhelpful, labeling the East Wing and Door 103, and the like. For a moment, he felt lost and scared, but then he remembered to trace his steps. He turned around and walked back up the extremely long, sloping hallway. A while passed before the architecture changed, to wide, open caverns with stalactites reaching for the floor. It was at this time that he distinctly remembered the ring hitting a wall and turning down a new hallway. Sindal groaned. He had gone too far, and he had no idea where the first hallway was. He trudged back down the hallway, looking for a turn that sloped upwards. It didn't show up. So, he settled on using his last resort: asking for directions. The first dwarrow he saw, he decided, he'd flag them down and demand to know where he was. Only, he didn't see anyone, and hadn't for a while.
"Hello?" He called down hallway after hallway. "Is anyone there?"
How odd, he thought. The torches are all lit. There should be at least ONE dwarrow down here besides me.
Suddenly, a dark shadow moved in the corner of his eye. He jumped to see a dwarrow pushing a cart through one of the doors.
"Oi! Wait!" He yelled. He ran, but didn't catch up with them before they made it through. He flung the door open to see another hallway, doors on either side.
"No matter," he said aloud to himself. "I'll just check every door." Only, the first door he opened led to a sharp turn. He followed it briskly, not thinking anything of it when he came upon stairs leading down. It was several long minutes before he realized that the dwarrow could not have come this way with a cart. He smacked himself in the head, very frustrated by now, before beginning the long climb back up.
The faint sound of chimes reached Sindal's ears. It was a pleasant sound, almost melodic. He stopped in his tracks. It was coming from the bottom of the stairs, which were shrouded in darkness.
I'm already late, anyway. He thought. Might as well enjoy some music while I'm here.
Following the music brought him to a large, empty cavern with very dim lighting. A gentle breeze tickled his neck, carrying with it a scent unlike any other. It was clear and refreshing, but humid, too. This must be fresh air, he realized. No wonder the elves like it so much. He followed the breeze past the cavern and down another slope. At the end of the hallway was a blinding light. Shielding his eyes, Sindal crossed the mouth of the passageway and left the mountain for the first time in his life.
A forest of giant mushrooms greeted him in the waning evening sun. Brown with red caps and white polka dots, they looked almost cute. The cool breeze swayed wind chimes hanging from the caps, thirty feet above the ground. Sindal was enchanted, but he didn't know any better than to think the scene in front of him was out of place.
He was sitting beneath the biggest mushroom he could find, enjoying the sound of the chimes, when a different smell hit his nose. This one was familiar: mince meat pie. His stomach growled. A meal sounded lovely. He could find the nearby market and trade his pocket change for a pie or two, and bring another home to his mother. This time, he followed his nose, to a cozy-looking oak hut hidden in the forest.
It was carved just as intricately as the stone features in the halls of Mount Dawnspike, his home. Three windows sat in the front wall. The roof curved upward at the ends, not downward, giving the impression of a content smile. More wind chimes hung from the roof, swaying in the breeze. A bell hung from the door, which featured an ornate rope, tied in a beautiful knot. Trinkets and statuettes littered the porch.
Warm firelight glowed in the windows, enticing Sindal to come closer. He walked up a staircase, whose steps were too high and too long, to the front door, and knocked.
An elf answered the door. He was more than twice as tall as Sindal, and less than half as round. His pointed ears stood out with his blonde hair loosely braided away from his face. A dirty apron was thrown over his brown clothing.
"Evening," smiled the elf. "What brings you to my home?"
"That delicious smell," smiled Sindal. He took off his hat and wrung it between his fingers. "I've gotten lost and am looking for a meal. I can compensate you nicely." He didn't know if that was true, but it sounded good.
"Oh, don't worry about that!" The elf stood aside and waved him in. "I had a couple visitors cancel on me, anyway."
What luck! Thought Sindal. He entered the home, wiping his boots on a wool rug just inside the door. The interior was just as charming as the exterior. Oak furnishings littered a spacious den. Large, colorful tomes stood on dark bookshelves. Delicious-looking food sat on a small, round table. Spongy loaves and mixtures of fruits and nuts were on one end of the table. On the other, sweet puddings. At the center, roast venison. Sindal's mouth watered.
"Sit down, please," said the elf. Sindal realized that he didn't know his name.
"Sorry, your name?" He asked, even though it was polite to offer his own name first.
"Sorrel."
"Sindal."
They tucked into the meal, neither saying a prayer. Sindal made certain to express his gratitude and give compliments at every opportunity. Growing tired of this, Sorrel asked him about his home. Although he'd rather have taken the opportunity to learn more about the world, Sindal obliged. Halfway through the meal, there was a knock at the door. Sorrel wiped his mouth with a napkin, which he threw on the table, and hurried to answer the door.
An elf stood there, smiling. His head nearly scraped the top of the door jam. On his chest was an insignia of a silver tree. Dark clothing whispered authority. The sword on his belt screamed it.
"Morel! You made it," Sorrel ushered the elf inside. "Sindal, this is my brother, Morel." Morel's smile dropped when he laid eyes on Sindal. He marched up to him and placed his hand on his sword. Sindal had an errant thought that he was eating Morel's food.
"State your name and your business." He said coldly.
"Morel!" Scowled Sorrel, arms crossed. "Stop it! You're always mean to my friends."
"No, I'm not," he scowled over his shoulder briefly. Sorrel nodded vigorously at Sindal behind Morel's back. "Besides, this is different. As a knight of Fallenwood, I can't just turn my back to an unknown person within our borders. He could be hostile."
"Oh, I'm not!" Sindal jumped out of his seat, hands in the air. "I've just gotten lost, and Sorrel was nice enough to give me a bite to eat."
"Lost? Lost how? The nearest border is three days away." Morel looked suspicious.
"He comes from the mountain," piped up Sorrel.
"The mountain? There are no Dwarvish villages on the mountain." Morel turned to his brother, growing frustrated.
"He comes from inside it," beamed Sorrel. He seemed excited, bouncing a little on the soles of his feet.
He sure is an excitable young fellow, thought Sindal.
"Either way, I need you to come with me for questioning," Morel turned back to Sindal. "You at least need to meet my superiors." Sindal deliberated. While he was naturally wary of authority, he had nothing to hide.
"I suppose this won't take long," he ventured. Morel shook his head. "Of course not."
Together, they left the cozy little house behind, waving at Sorrel, who looked worried.
Morel led Sindal through the mushroom woods in silence. It gave Sindal time to reflect on the day, and he realized how lonely he was. What if he never made his way back home, to his mother? What if his days as a miner were done? Maybe having a wife wouldn't be so bad. At least he wouldn't be so lonely.
They came upon a dirt road, which they followed for a quarter of an hour before the mushroom woods fell away. In their place was a sparkling river, with more water than Sindal had ever seen. White water crashed over rocks noisily. Black shadows danced in deep blue water. Green water lapped at the edges of the rocky shore. On the other bank, the biggest donkey he had ever seen, which was actually a brown horse, was pulling a covered wagon. An elf sat back in the driver's seat, snoring. Sindal wondered if the horse had the route memorized, or if he were seeing things.
Soon, a village appeared. It was just as bustling as any Dwarvish village, with children running about and grandparents too tired to catch up with them. The streets were a little muddy with recent rain. The homes themselves resembled Sorrel's; the building Morel led him to much less. It was long and narrow, and made of gray stone. Two guards stood outside of it, looking bored. Morel waved to them and ushered Sindal inside without a word.
A desk stood in the center of the room, piled high with paperwork. Several guards sat at a circular table, playing cards. Morel ignored them, walking past them down a long hallway. One side was lined with jail cells. The other was lined with torches. Morel opened one of the cell doors.
"Wait in here," he demanded. Sindal shook his head vigorously.
"Just for a minute," Morel said through gritted teeth. Sindal turned on his heel, intending to run, but was met with a dagger pointing towards him. An elf stood there with a grim expression on his face.
"We don't take kindly to strangers around here," he said in liu of greeting. Sindal, seeing no way out, hung his head and entered the cell.
"Won't your brother be upset with you?" He asked Morel, but he just sneered back and left without a word. Sindal sat on the cold stone floor and blubbered to himself. Time passed slowly, Sindal cursing himself for losing the ring, going after it, investigating the wind chimes, knocking on Sorrel's door, and going with Morel. But much time had passed, and no one had come, so he decided to investigate his cell to find a way out. He didn't get far before he realized something unfathomable: the bars were made of something sweet, something sticky, something festive: candy cane!
A quick stumble to the nearest bar, and Sindal's mouth filled with the mouth-watering treat. He liked and slobbering and chewed, intent on eating his way to freedom. It was quickly becoming the happiest day of his life.
"That is not what happened!" Garnet interrupted her husband's storytelling. She dreaded what was going through her young children's impressionable minds. They were already looking at their father like he hung the moon.
"Of course it is!" said Trundle, boisterous. "It says right here, in this book." He pulled a yellow book from a nearby shelf and held it up.
"That says "Gardening Underneath the Mountain: A Housewife's Guide." said Garnet, dryly. Trundle and Bumble laughed. The children laughed, too.
"Oh, come on, Dear," Trundle cajoled. "Let the children have their fun." Garnet sighed, and went back to her meal begrudgingly.
"Now, where was I?"
Sindal worked for an hour before he managed to break through the top, then the bottom. He grabbed the leftover stick and brandished it like a pointed weapon. This'll protect me, he thought. The Elves had returned to their game. He had an idea.
"Evening, gents." He waltzed right up to them. "Care for a harmless wager?" They leapt out of their seats in shock. A couple reached for their swords, and eyed Sindal's candy cane.
"That's disgusting!" One elf choked. "No one can stand that much sugar."
"And the taste…" Another looked sick.
Sindal grinned. "One round of gin rummy. If I win, I'll go home under the mountain, never to return. If you win, I'll be a good prisoner and never escape again."
"Oh, alright." Morel stepped forward, out of the corner he had been watching the game from. "Either way, your foot never crosses my brother's threshold again. He's too naive to be trusted around strangers. One of these days, he'll end up dead."
"Deal." Sindal declared. Morel sat down opposite him. Two more sat on either side. Morel shuffled and dealt. Sindal glanced at his cards. He wiped his mouth, frowning in consternation. Slowly, he picked up the face-up card, an eight of hearts. He placed his cards back on the table, tapping them to signal that he was passing. Morel picked up a card from the deck, face down. He smiled, and discarded a three of spades. The game continued, tensions high. Or, at least, Sindal imagined they were high. If the elves intended to honor their deal, then tensions would be high.
After ten rounds or so, Sindal laid down his deck. It was a straight in hearts. He smirked.
"So long, boys."
"Let me see that," Morel grabbed up the cards. "Hey, these cards are sticky." He flexed his fingers, examining them. Bits of candy cane fell off.
"Hey, you cheated!" He looked up. The other guards turned to where they thought Sindal was, only to see an empty chair. The door slammed shut suddenly. Sindal had run out the door while they were distracted.
The elves gathered their arms and went after him, but they were no match for a dwarrow half their size, and in the dark, no less. Sindal lost them easily.
He had little trouble finding his way back to the cave. There was only one road, after all. The trouble would be finding his way back home through the mines. At least, he thought so, until he found the previously confounding passages to be full of busy Dwarrows. He flagged down the nearest Dwarrow and asked for directions-and why nobody had been there at noon. The Dwarrow laughed and said that they ran the night shift. For what, he couldn't get out of them. So, he thanked them and continued on his way.
His mother was waiting for him at home, worried sick. He was relieved to see her, enveloping her in a huge hug.
"Sindal, I'm sorry I told you to get married. I didn't mean that I didn't want you in my life anymore," she fretted. Sindal had entirely forgotten about her ultimatum.
"It's alright, mother." He held up the ring for her to see. "I didn't find a wife today, but I did manage to save the ring."
"What do you mean?" She frowned. "You weren't at the bar?" Sindal was a little taken aback by that. He wasn't really known for his drinking. Regardless, he told his mother all that had happened, and by the end, she was thanking the gods that her son was well.