Read Online Blue Diamonds (Book One of The Blue Diamonds Saga) by R.E. Murphy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: R.E. Murphy
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the woods. Plus, it’d be a waste of having a perfectly sharp axe,” he answered.
Then Pall swung his axe wide, hitting the trunk squarely. It wasn't the hardest strike, but the axe blade bit a full third of the way into the bark. Dwarves had a natural repulsion to magic personally, but there was strong magic in the weapons they forged, infused through ancient smelting techniques. Techniques said to bring alive the very soul of the metal, and Pall's axe was one of those weapons.
“Well, I guess I can forgive you this time."
"Oh thank the gods!" joked the dwarf. Kala winced as Pall put a foot to the tree and yanked his axe free.
“Ha ha, very funny. You know what isn’t funny? That I've been watching you since you tossed your line,” she teased, "you need to practice."
Kala had been trying to teach Pall "the sight" for the last few years. It's the skill of looking into the forest and focusing the way elves do, which is not only how elves are able to see each other, but according to Kala reveals in nature an entire universe of life unseen by mortals.
“Cast. Since I cast me line,” corrected Pall.
"Whatever, you know what I meant," she said. "But aren't you a little happy that I'm not upset about the tree?" She’d been quite happy with the strides she’d made with her dear friend. In the past he would never have looked for a fallen tree, let alone walk thirty paces in order to find one that didn’t seem too young. Kala taught Pall about the life of the forest, while he taught her the pleasures of being crude and carefree.
When they first met they were both children in respects to their race's lifespans. Pall was in his twenties and Kala was in her fifties. To a human they would be closer to midlife than childhood but as a dwarf and elf they were merely young teens. It was how they met that led to such a close friendship.
Ol’ Brook has many secret entrances to the city, all attached with a universal rule, these tunnels were only to be used with permission or in times of extreme emergency. But Pall was a Hammerheart, a true Hammerheart uncle Burt would say, born full of defiance and curiosity. And thanks to that defiance and curiosity, one day he found himself stuck at the opening to one of these forbidden tunnels, his leg caught in a bearwolf trap. If it weren’t for the young elf girl skipping through the forest that afternoon he probably would have ended up bearwolf food.
Despite all of the hatred Kala's father spat about the dwarves, she compassionately freed his swollen ankle and helped him home that night. Her family was traditional and stuck to the woods, and it was her first time into the city. Pall and his kin were so different from her own people that she was mesmerized, and it was likewise for him whenever he spent time with her in the forest.
“Great! I’m so happy yer for forgiving me, because I don’t think I’d be able to sleep otherwise. How long’ve ye been out here anyway? Ye get tired of spying on yer big boyfriend?” He got in another good chop on the tree, grinning.
“Long enough to see you’re no fisherman Pall Hammerheart. And he’s not my boyfriend, yet.” She was blushing, but went morbid white as the tree went down on the third chop. She would never get used to the sight of a tree being killed. She swallowed hard before continuing.
“Shomnath asked me to come and find you,” she said.
Pall turned from his tree, a smile spreading across his face. He was an interesting dwarf to look at. Although his father hated his choice in attire, clothes weren’t the biggest issue Jevon had with his son. Pall had golden blonde hair that he kept in a ponytail that fell over a black leather headband adorned with seven silver crescent moons. Kala had made it for him. Seven was the most revered number according to the dwarves, but the silver crescent was a symbol synonymous with elf-kind.
What was worse than the elfish headband, was that Pall chose to keep clean-shaven instead of
Then Pall swung his axe wide, hitting the trunk squarely. It wasn't the hardest strike, but the axe blade bit a full third of the way into the bark. Dwarves had a natural repulsion to magic personally, but there was strong magic in the weapons they forged, infused through ancient smelting techniques. Techniques said to bring alive the very soul of the metal, and Pall's axe was one of those weapons.
“Well, I guess I can forgive you this time."
"Oh thank the gods!" joked the dwarf. Kala winced as Pall put a foot to the tree and yanked his axe free.
“Ha ha, very funny. You know what isn’t funny? That I've been watching you since you tossed your line,” she teased, "you need to practice."
Kala had been trying to teach Pall "the sight" for the last few years. It's the skill of looking into the forest and focusing the way elves do, which is not only how elves are able to see each other, but according to Kala reveals in nature an entire universe of life unseen by mortals.
“Cast. Since I cast me line,” corrected Pall.
"Whatever, you know what I meant," she said. "But aren't you a little happy that I'm not upset about the tree?" She’d been quite happy with the strides she’d made with her dear friend. In the past he would never have looked for a fallen tree, let alone walk thirty paces in order to find one that didn’t seem too young. Kala taught Pall about the life of the forest, while he taught her the pleasures of being crude and carefree.
When they first met they were both children in respects to their race's lifespans. Pall was in his twenties and Kala was in her fifties. To a human they would be closer to midlife than childhood but as a dwarf and elf they were merely young teens. It was how they met that led to such a close friendship.
Ol’ Brook has many secret entrances to the city, all attached with a universal rule, these tunnels were only to be used with permission or in times of extreme emergency. But Pall was a Hammerheart, a true Hammerheart uncle Burt would say, born full of defiance and curiosity. And thanks to that defiance and curiosity, one day he found himself stuck at the opening to one of these forbidden tunnels, his leg caught in a bearwolf trap. If it weren’t for the young elf girl skipping through the forest that afternoon he probably would have ended up bearwolf food.
Despite all of the hatred Kala's father spat about the dwarves, she compassionately freed his swollen ankle and helped him home that night. Her family was traditional and stuck to the woods, and it was her first time into the city. Pall and his kin were so different from her own people that she was mesmerized, and it was likewise for him whenever he spent time with her in the forest.
“Great! I’m so happy yer for forgiving me, because I don’t think I’d be able to sleep otherwise. How long’ve ye been out here anyway? Ye get tired of spying on yer big boyfriend?” He got in another good chop on the tree, grinning.
“Long enough to see you’re no fisherman Pall Hammerheart. And he’s not my boyfriend, yet.” She was blushing, but went morbid white as the tree went down on the third chop. She would never get used to the sight of a tree being killed. She swallowed hard before continuing.
“Shomnath asked me to come and find you,” she said.
Pall turned from his tree, a smile spreading across his face. He was an interesting dwarf to look at. Although his father hated his choice in attire, clothes weren’t the biggest issue Jevon had with his son. Pall had golden blonde hair that he kept in a ponytail that fell over a black leather headband adorned with seven silver crescent moons. Kala had made it for him. Seven was the most revered number according to the dwarves, but the silver crescent was a symbol synonymous with elf-kind.
What was worse than the elfish headband, was that Pall chose to keep clean-shaven instead of
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