Yet that smell … strawberries and cream? Jakon took another deep breath.

Yeah. Strange, dessert for breakfast?

And … it was … sniff, sniff, ah! Toppled with a liquid spice. That secret clear but shiny spice mom always used on the strawberries to give them the perfect sweet crisp twang. A secret spice she never had much of, and so she always saved it for special occasions.

Always.

So the question was … what’s the special occasion? No birthdays. No holidays.

Maybe a special visitor then? Without telling him? Strange. No. Probably not.

This hallway was straight like a hammer handle should be, but wide enough for the stoutest dwarf. Paintings chiseled into the wall showed his dad’s side of the family, the Dawdora Clan. All stout dwarfs, all with long braided beards down to the floor, both men and women, and all beaming proud of their dwarven lineage. They all seemed to look down at him as he marched down this hallway. But ever since his human side took over, it made Jakon into a lean and mean kind of guy, rather than thick and stout and truly bearded … sigh, even dwarf women by his age had better beards.

He might as well be marching down an aisle of judgment. Judged unworthy.

But a dwarf was a dwarf. Half or not.

And Jakon was still a Dawdora. He kept his back straight and high. Not a hint of slouching. Worrying about judgement like that, only elves worried about that nonsense. He’d just find another way other than smithing to prove himself a true dwarf.

Dwarves took on challenges head on. And each day, another challenge to face head on.

His nose proved as true as his eyes, but as a dwarf, that wasn’t a surprise. It was expected.

A dwarf’s nose was amazing, half human or not.

The kitchen was at the end of the hallway, and it was like the anvil to the hammer. The room was even shaped like an anvil, with sleek gray walls curved just right and diamonds sheening bright. All to remind everyone here of the importance of smithery, especially to this family’s bloodline. In the center there was a small round table of the blackest of black iron. It was molded to look like concentric solid rings of black roses. It was a wedding gift to his mom, from his dad.

Three chairs of the same rosy style were around the table. Jakon always sat on the newest. His chair it was. The smell bit his nose the strongest, like a dog nipping the nostrils, except with the smell of fresh wrought iron rather than with teeth.

A black iron bowl was already in front of his seat, and not just any bowl, but the bowls dad forged to match the black roses of this very table.

Something very special was going on …

Something his parents hadn’t told him about yet either …

Even stranger, dad was seated at the table, and without any bowl or plate, but he despised strawberries with a passion. That bulging nose of his was curled wrinkled. It could be that strawberries were too close to him, but he wasn’t the type to deny his son a good food simply because he disliked it.

Anyway, he was one of the stoutest dwarfs in all of Dirlop, and proud of it. His long black beard was braided among the thickest and trimmest too, and right now, it was over his dark gray smithery apron, which was as long as a full dress and thicker some most fabric-based armor … but if he had his apron on … he came here right from his smithery.

Jakon sat down anyway. Mom went through the effort too …

Mom sat beside dad, and … no bowl either. Or plate. And she just loooved these strawberries and cream. Why … sigh. Let’s say she was on the thinner side, and really could use a few desserts in her, but her face was lined with concern. Her blonde hair wasn’t even braided, and that smile on her face missed her eyes by miles.

Jakon wasn’t that clueless. This didn’t look good. Better start the conversation first, or else–

“Thanks for the … breakfast,” Jakon said.

Dad hurrumpfed. “Yes, breakfast. Dessert for breakfast.”

“Honey,” mom said, “We spoke about this.”

Dad merely nodded. Hurrumpfed again.

“We did,” he said, “And agreed, but news from up north … those orcs and their blasted dragon overlords already anointed their new–”

“Not in front of Jakon,” mom said.

Dad hurrumpfed again.

“He’d old enough to hear it,” dad said, “He’s more than human enough. Almost a man now, if not already. His dwarf side’s … in spirit more than body.”

That got dad a fierce glare from mom.

Jakon knew better than to jump in.

Yet.

Or start his strawberries and cream. Dessert for breakfast. A very bad sign indeed.

Jakon merely leaned back in his seat and waited for the right moment …

Dad hurrumpfed once again, and he had won all the hurrumpfing contests for a hundred years straight. He was too proud of his hurrumpfs not to use them whenever he could, whether he should or not.

“The boy reads about those Seven Deadly Serpent wannabes in his blasted books,” dad said, “The real thing’s finally come about, rumor has it. They even selected another Princess of Smiles.”

The Princess of Smiles … of the bloody neck kind. Legend had it, back before she was killed with the rest of the Seven Deadly Serpents, she could wield up to a million blades through her mind and even use magical techniques through them like they were witch’s staffs.

But that was thousands of years ago. What life was like back then … the dime dreadfuls only pretended to know, and Jakon realized that much.

So he made a point to grimace, and nothing more.

But mom and dad were looking at him, and clearly for more than just the correct physical reaction …

“It’s bad news,” Jakon said, “But my blades are ready if it comes down it to. Mom trained me well … enough, right?”

Dad chuckled. “She’s a blademaster, she is!”

“Was,” mom said, “And Jakon has a far way to go. Very far. I haven’t figured out how to open his spores to magic.”

Dad hurrumpfed. “Dwarves have no spores. Dwarf skin is the thickest and best there is!”

“The spores are spiritual, honey,” mom said, “And I can sense them in him. The trouble has to do with his dwarven blood, so–”

“Blaming dwarfs for the boy’s trouble, ey?” dad said, “As I see it, it’s the other way around.”

“I know you do, honey,” mom said, “But that doesn’t change the fact he needs training from someone besides me. Someone who–”

“Is too far away!” dad said, “No telling what horrors he’ll run into on the road, and we can’t come with him. He’s not ready! Not alone he isn’t.”

That … perked Jakon up. Traveling alone … maybe not, but leaving Dirlop for an adventure … maybe … fun?

Maybe.

“Hooooney,” mom said, “I’ve arranged for others to go with him. They’ll arrive any day now–”

“Unless,” dad said, “They were ambushed on the road. Orcs and worse are out there now. Too much for my son to fight off alone, and we can’t spare the men to guide him, let alone watch over him. War’s coming and–”

“Best he’d not in the middle of it,” mom said, “If he’s here … he’ll end up fighting before he’s ready, and–”

“Enough!” dad said, “We agreed to disagree, ey? Let the boy decide. He’d old enough.”

Mom and dad again both looked at Jakon and … wow, ugh, was this …

“Who and where and … um,” Jakon said.

More like sputtered.

Jakon cleared his throat. “I picked up some of what you’re saying, but–”

“No means no, great!” dad said, “I knew you’d embrace your inner dwarf.”

Mom tsked. “Give our boy a chance to speak for himself.”

Oh well. Second try’s as worthwhile as a first, as any dwarf knows.

“If … I mean, with war coming …” Jakon said, “I want to be as ready as possible, to fight. Dirlop is my home. Its safety is too important. Leaving that to everyone else? Of course not! That means being able to use magic with my sword techniques, even if my dwarf side …a dwarf faces a challenge head on, and … this morning, for a moment, I saw a castle on Razorspine Peak, before it disappeared.”

“Castle?!” dad said, “Blast it! You’ve read so many of those dime–”

Jakon scowled this time. “A dwarf trusts his eyes.”

Dad hurrumpfed, but … nodded?

“True …” dad said.

Mom even jumped in. “Jakon never told those tales like they were true.”

“Not before …” dad said, “Fine. I’ll ask around. Even if it was there for only a moment, a few other dwarves should of seen it too.”

Other dwarfs … Jakon smiled a touch. Dad still saw Jakon as a dwarf.

Dad looked fierce at mom. “Let’s hold off till I investigate this … castle rumor, ey?”

Mom nodded. Her smile just as false now.

“It’s for the best,” mom said, “Jakon, we’ll continue this at lunch.”

‘But …” Jakon said, “At least–”

“Lunch!” both mom and dad said.

Sigh. A united front. No hope now of getting a full story out of them.

Leaving Jakon mostly in the dark … again.