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As this small one settled once more into meditation, Oranos spoke again. “Do not attempt the entire translation, Little Sen. Only deduce the broad form of the language and test your translation on a few lines.”
Confusion could cause my thoughts to lose their order. For that reason, despite the arrogance in questioning his wisdom, this small one had to know the reason for his instruction, and dared to carefully respond.
“Please grant forgiveness, this junior fails to understand, Great Senior.”
The anxiety in my heart crumbled in the face of his warm chuckle.
“You cannot do your translation here, nor can I give you the information. The knowledge will carry too much weight, and you cannot provide sufficient entropic compensation to prevent yourself from forgetting on your return to the mortal realm. But if you simply connect your deduction technique to the source of that knowledge here, I can send you back while you maintain that connection, for you to complete the task there.”
Understanding came and my mind was at peace. The technique of cosmic deduction blossomed, and the foreign words from the recording replayed once more. The task of translating them was more difficult than merely seeking the meanings of individual words, or learning the words that fit particular meanings. In addition, the young princess’s knowledge of Regari was thin, and her ear was not well trained for it, adding to the difficulty.
But gradually, phrases began resolving their meanings.
… the king in Atius and his gray-winged knight…
… the missing princess…
… ten thousand demon army …
… the true god’s instructions…
… minion of the false ones….
Confidence grew, and this small one returned to the beginning to attempt a translation.
Durash: Hear my words, underling!
Trisiagga: Lord Durash? Your beloved is here and hears you, Great One!
Durash: Well answered, but I await news of your progress.
Trisiagga: G… Great One, the plan is advancing on schedule!
Durash: Yet you have not reported it and have made this lord come to ask you.
Trisiagga: Your beloved begs forgiveness, Lord Durash! A new factor appeared, which I thought to investigate for you!
The warm voice of Oranos broke into my thoughts at this point. “You’ve done well, Little Sen. You are managing without errors. Now maintain your technique while I return your mind to the mortal realm.”
These eyes remained closed, but the texture of existence shifted just slightly, as it returned to the normal feel of the mortal realm. Thankfully, the technique remained intact during the trip back through the entropic barrier.
The surroundings held a surprise upon my return.
When the great senior sent the young princess back in time within her mind in order to recover her past life memories, he suspended the progress of time outside. Only a few very sensitive individuals, such as Durandal and the Fairy King’s sons, even noticed a momentary fluctuation. This time, Oranos had allowed time to progress, and visitors had arrived in my absence.
This scholar kept her eyes closed and her meditative state steady, but used the mind’s eye to observe the situation while returning to the translation task.
The awakened Aenëe stood with folded arms facing a new group of dwarves that had the look of a negotiating party. A few were armed guards, but the majority were unarmed and mostly females. Two bearers were in the process of helping their passenger out of an elegant sedan chair which would not have been out of place in the Da Long Empire.
The women in the delegation were rather short and bordering on pudgy, but reasonably attractive, differing from human girls only by their pointed ears and unusually short stature, barely taller than halflings.
The men were more ‘dwarf-like’, inhumanly wide for their stunted height, with aggressively manly beards. The bare chests of the sedan chair bearers glistened with sweat, showing off incredibly ripped bodies, and the few other civilian men had similar solid physiques beneath their tunics.
Dwarves keep strict divisions of labor by gender, largely as a result of their sexual dimorphism. Although housework and childrearing are unisex roles, dwarven men are built for fighting, mining, smithing and construction work, while the significantly lighter women do all the artisan work and jobs requiring academic learning.
Which explained the leader now receiving her cane from an attendant. Like all dwarves in civilian leadership, she was an ancient woman. Dwarves use the masculine titles, but their chieftains and kings are always women. Dwarven men are the leaders on the battlefield, but serve female lords.
In order to assess the situation better, this scholar expanded her spiritual sense up the ramp to find the first group of dwarves divided into a team guarding the entrance on the surface while a pair inside recharged the barrier tool. Despite Tiana’s assumptions, the barrier did not have a back-up magic stone after all.
Matters looked well in hand, and Durandal’s defense held steady, so this scholar returned to deducing the translation while monitoring the conversation.
“Grandmother, I assume that you are the local chieftain,” Aenëe declared, keeping her chin tipped slightly upward. “I am Aenëe of the Old Grove, a knight of Faerie. My companion is Tiana of the High Forest, a fellow knight. We must shelter within the highway for a short while. We offer no threat to your dwell. I am troubled that you have come this far when we plan to leave so soon.”
Aenëe wasn’t being rude when she called the chieftain ‘Grandmother’. Even though she was likely centuries or even millennia younger than Aenëe’s actual grandmother, she was clearly ancient for a dwarf, probably in her third century. Dwarven etiquette required she be addressed like an ancestor.
A hint of a frown crossed the woman’s face. She wanted to protest the situation, but Aenëe was more-or-less closing the door on discussion.
“But you offer no apology for possibly bringing your enemy to our door,” the woman noted with a cantankerous tone, stating it as a confirmation rather than a question.
This scholar kept her eyes closed, but chose to speak at this point, carefully imitating the princess’s speech.
“I am watching that door even as we speak, Grandmother. Our enemy has not followed us here. Your men are now returning inside, having completed their repairs. Of course, if you refuse to let us out of here, they will naturally have to repeat their work.”
“So, ‘no harm, no foul’,” she summarized, as she turned her eyes this small one’s way with an angry glint. Her people paled as they heard her harsh tone. One older man appeared to be wanting to intervene before she went too far.
The old lady had an admirable heart. She was facing a huge threat, but refusing to back down, depending upon fairy knight honor as her guarantee.
Aenëe had looked over her shoulder to listen to this small one. When no further words came, she turned back to the chieftain.
“Grandmother,” she stated, “The Hamagaaran army and the city of Cara Ita to your north are under the control of demons. They are a grave threat to you, and you are receiving our protection by happenstance. If you dislike our protection, then by all means, send forth your own defense against an asura and her minions.”
The chieftain’s lips tightened and pursed, and she continued glowering, but she seemed to retreat slightly. Finally, she admitted, “We’ve seen foreign monsters and demonic beasts on the surface. Enough of them have come to force us into lockdown. You say it’s an organized invasion?”
Aenëe nodded, “They are in the process of taking over Hamagaar. They will not ignore neighbors like you forever.”
The woman stared for several seconds, then her brow lowered slightly.
“What lord do you serve?” she asked.
“I serve the rightful lord of Cara Ita, whom the demons drove into exile,” she declared, raising her chin a bit higher. “My companion serves King Owen the Second of Orestania.”
She frowned, then tipped her head and noted, “You say that the demons are in control there, but from what we can tell, it still remains in human hands.”
“They are in disguise, Grandmother, in order to fool the Hamagaarans to carry the fight for them. But dwarven magicians should be able to penetrate those disguises and see the truth, should you send them. Her minions are everywhere.”
The dwarves cast glances amongst themselves and muttered a few words in Dwarvish to each other.
Aenëe pursued something the woman had said. “You mentioned ‘foreign monsters and demonic beasts’. Could they include an unbelievably gigantic wolf?”
The reaction to her words was unexpected. All eyes grew large, as they exchanged more words in the incomprehensible Dwarvish dialect. The name ‘Atli’ appeared several times.
The woman asked, “How large?”
“By my estimate, fifteen paces at the shoulder,” Aenëe replied.
After observing their nervous faces, she added, “I take it, you’ve seen this creature?”
The chieftain pursed her lips, then admitted, “A certain loner named ‘Atli’ made himself famous recently by claiming to have seen it, and folks have mocked it as ‘Atli’s wolf’. But a few others have claimed to have seen it since then, and believe it to be a creature from myth. They call it the God Wolf, Fenrisuelfr.”
“God Wolf?” Aenëe echoed, sounding puzzled.
“A legend from the time of the Valciriur, My Lady.”
“Valciriur?” the fairy knight echoed, confused more.
“The Stregas, My Lady,” one of the older men in the group answered. “The ancient divine servants of our Northern religion.”
From Bray on the East Coast all the way across the north end of Orestania and into Hamagaar, the religious beliefs are the same. And, it seemed, the believers included these northern dwarves.
“Stregas,” the chieftain nodded. “That’s the Ostish word, yes. We’ve heard reports of one destroying demons in Cara Ita, and now we have reports of Fenrisuelfr. Beings who only existed during the Age of Gods are coming to life again, and causing rumors of the end of the world.”
A subtle shift in tone had taken over the conversation. Perhaps the dwarves had subconsciously accepted us as allies, or at least, non-enemies.
Aenëe asked, “That wolf, when was it seen here?”
“A handful of times in the past two weeks. It appears in the distance, never for long, and never close enough to investigate, or to send another party to confirm.”
“Grandmother, on the battlefield today, my own eyes and the instruments of Orestanian army mages confirmed immense mana in that creature, and thousands of soldiers witnessed its form. After it appeared, my companion and I battled the asura that commands it. I suspect that the demons have it wandering your territory to inhibit your people from entering the fray.”
“Did you come here to enlist our help?” the chieftain countered, her eyebrow rising.
Aenëe shook her head with a smile. “The asura surprised me and forced us to find shelter where my companion could heal me. She is currently recovering her strength from the effort. If not for my wounds, we would not have risked coming here.”
This young fairy knight was doing quite a good job with diplomacy. The chieftain nodded and drew herself up.
“We will strengthen our defenses, and we will investigate Cara Ita, Fair Knight,” she declared. “But…”
She gestured, and one of the women in the group stepped forward and laid a pair of badges on the floor at the edge of Durandal’s shield.
“These are passes to admit you into the highway,” the chieftain stated. “If the need arises again, please do not destroy our portal defenses.”
Aenëe gave a Dorian-style bow and stated, “We shall, Grandmother.”
After that, the group made an orderly retreat, reseating the chieftain in the sedan chair and heading back down the road.
Aenëe asked, “Have you finished whatever you have been doing, My Lady?”
“I must meditate for some time more,” this scholar replied, doing her best to sound like the princess. “You should rest some more.”
The translation process could not be hurried, but what had appeared so far already made this scholar quite anxious. Prince Gerald’s army was facing a far greater threat than they knew.
