His stomach still remained uneasy by the time Jakon got back to his familiar anvil of a kitchen at home. The sleek stone walls sheened with the usual diamonds. The gemstones all glowed high in the ceiling. Hmmm.

Wait.

That elf guy hadn’t commented at all on the gemstones. Strange. Humans usually did. Eyed them wide and greedy, more often than not. Why so many other races treated gemstones like currency rather than the practical materials they were …

Wait.

Ah!

The smell of lunch hit his nose like a troll’s club to the nose, but in the best way possible. It wiped away that uneasy like … like … wow.

Gone.

(Mostly.)

Right on the black rose table. Before each rose-themed chair. On a that special set of plates made of rings of black roses tight together, lunch was … wow.

There it was.

Outright mountain high hordes of sliced thick and gooey corned beef, and the corned beef was of the fattiest and greasiest kind.

On each of the three plates the mountain of corned beef was stuffed ultra-thick between two superthick and amazingly soft slices of seeded rye bread.

A real dwarf’s lunch.

One of the best too. And the reason why mom hadn’t shown up to the blademaster academy today.

Even the air here was hotter than usual. Hot and humid. Enough to make Jakon breath a bit harder. As if he went through some serious training. Simply from standing here.

But that was from the combination of the smithy and the massive amount of cooking going on below. The vents below were a bit too close to the vents to these rooms so they always got a good bit warmer, and that was intentional.

It was a reliable way to ensure the dwarves here could feel the familiar warmth of the smithy below.

A smithy Jakon made a point not to visit too much of anymore … but …

“Oh Jakon! Sit down! Eat eat!” mom said, but from behind Jakon?

Sigh, a good reminder how must more skilled she was, sneaking up behind him so easily …

“Okay …” he said and sat down at his usual seat, the newest chair, and … actually, his plate had the highest mountain of corned beef and thickest slices of rye bread.

As nice as this all was … it was too nice.

His dad marched into the room, in his usual thick gray smithery apron on and long flowing beard of trim black over it.

“Ah, there you are, good,” his dad said, and heaved something over his shoulder. Something long, about half Jakon’s own height, and it was wrapped in a thick white blanket?

His dad marched right over to his own chair. Settled the long, blanket-wrapped something against his chair. And sat down with a hurrumpf.

A very fine and … happy sounding hurrumpf?

Hmmm.

Jakon went over to his seat and sat down, but didn’t eat. Yet.

Mom already took her own seat. “Father has good news for you.”

“Excellent news,” dad said, “A true dwarf does trust his eyes, and more than a few dwarves up in the battlements saw that castle of yours.”

Jakon nodded. Smiled. Despite the warmth of being acknowledged, what that castle could actually mean … it iced his spine too, but he knew better than to say anything.

Yet.

His dad went on.

“With the increase in tigermite sightings,” dad said, “And orcs here and there, there’s no chance of you heading anywhere anytime soon. No one’s being let out, except those who know how to defend themselves real well from the usual trouble. So no more worries about leaving anytime soon, that is.”

Mom … didn’t look as happy as dad, but nodded.

“A scouting party was sent out,” mom said, “To check on–”

“No need to worry our boy,” dad said, “Those companions of his, well, I’m sure they’ll arrive safe and sound. Tunker’s leading the scouting party and nothing get passed Tunker.”

That perked Jakon up. “Tunker? Then …”

Mom tsked. “And you asked me not to worry him, when you went ahead and did it anyway.”

“I …” dad said, “Well, you’re right when you right, but the boy already knew he had companions coming. But enough about that. I’ve got something good to give him. Something better than any of those spores and whatnot.”

Dad patted that thing wrapped up in a blanket.

Then he whipped it off.

Revealing a short broadsword, with a thick triangular blade, the … shining steel(?) blade was as pale blue as the clearest sky, so clearly a very special blade. The hilt was a deep but bright lighting blue. Solid and scaled like an overgrown serpent, and it was shaped like a cross between a wicked tulip and a cyclopic dragon head, but the polished round gemstone was a pale empty blue. The handle was like a spiraled dragon tail, and looked incredibly solid and a good grip.

“That’s …” Jakon said.

“A serpent slayer blade,” dad said, “Forged from a truly powerful dragon of ancient times. Its power … amazing, but no need to worry about spores to use this fellow. It can do plenty … once it accepts you.”

“Accepts me?” Jakon said.

Mom sighed, and frowned so deep …

“It’s a magical blade,” she said, “A living blade. Your stamina is enough–as long as it accepts you as its wielder. A big if, and living blades–”

Dad laughed, but clearly knew better than say anything. Yet.

Mom sighed again. “Just say what you’re going to say.”

Now dad said it.

“Living blades,” dad said, “A step up–no. A few good steps above those monster cards you loved as a kid—and, I’m proud to see, you’re finally getting into again. With living monster cards … troublesome, but winning one over … few can do it right, and you did, from what I heard, and building a whole deck of living monster cards, the right way, they can protect you like loyal personal guards, if, well, anyway, you’re old enough to know to do the right thing. Now where was I …”

Dad hoisted the blade. Patted proudly.

“Ah yes,” dad said, “Living blades are made from living monster cards. The right ones. And this blade, long ago, was made from the best. Come and take it. Give it a try.”

Great! Jakon stood up and reached for the sword when–ack!

BOOM!!!