This..This is going to take a lot longer than I imagined.

I think to myself, staring at the ground in concern. Before us was a neatly arranged circular layout of sticks arranged into different shapes.

As I should have expected of a dwarf. Smithing was a large part of a dwarf’s identity, it seemed, just like in the books of my old world. Andvari’s intensity was not to be underestimated.

Kiieeek!

Next to me, Greenie was unable to contain his surprise at the speed at which the dwarf moved. Andvari moved about busily with his knees in a crouch, fiddling with something in the grass, then move on to stacking stones.

Greenie touches one such formation of stones, drawn in by the smoothness of its surface.

Click-clack!

We both flinch when the pile of stones cave in on themselves like a game of jenga.

You break it, you fix it.

Andvari’s empty eyes glare in our direction, making the both of us jump.

Greenie fix!

He hurriedly replies, doing his best to recreate the exact layout the stones had been in before. The dwarf, pausing for a bit, resumes adjusting his layout when he hears Greenie placing the stones together. My poor Greenie. He was already looking greener than usual, full of shame because he’d lost the precious ham.

I was sad about losing our ham to the possums too, but I could only shrug it off. If I didn’t Greenie would feel worse than he already was. With the clarity of his emotions that seeped into me through our link, I was feeling the shame secondhand.

Boy, did it not feel good.

Not just Greenie, but Andvari too seemed tense. He was silent, a deep frown on his face as he worked. The more he made the plans for the forge, the worse it got. Andvari wouldn’t even give me his usual grunt of response to my blathering. Something was wrong.

But I didn’t know how to approach the subject. So I distract myself with other thoughts, waiting for Andvari to finish. I also bring him the occasional stone when it looks like Andvari needs one.

I should be happy the wolves weren’t here to mess up the careful plan Andvari was laying out for the forge.

After handing off the armor to Andvari, I’d chased after the wolves. I had to follow after Capo who was moping sulkily because his mate and pack left without him. It took a lot of wrangling to convince him not to try and hunt each creature that came along. It was also a good thing I scouted ahead then and steered him away from the sleuth of Ironwood bears that were about to cross his path.

In his irritation I wouldn’t be surprised if Capo tried to take down all of them.

Once I’d found them, Boudicea had taken the lead and with the pack, gone off to gather dry wood, water, and bones, any materials that could be used for building. I’m sure it would take some time before they all came back, what with the foul stench that remind in the clearing.

Andvari somberly continues to lay out the plan for a rudimentary forge using the sticks and stones Greenie and I bring him. I can’t help peering over Andvari’s shoulder to take a peek at what he was building next. Were those little grass figurines of us?

There was a small green bird, with small pebbles for eyes and a flower on it’s back. That flower had two straps that went around the wings of the bird, just like the backpack that stayed on my body at all times. That must be me! Two humanoid figures, one big and the other small. The big one was probably Greenie because of the short dagger at his hip. The smaller one Andvari? And there were more. One of Crixus (with no arms) and the wolves, all carefully folded and tied into shape.

I only caught a glimpse. When he hears my wings fluttering beside him, Andvari immediately hid the figurines in his beard.

Seriously, what was going on in that beard?

Do you have a location in mind for all of this, Andvari? I ask.

The cave is no good. It will be too hot for the rest if we built it inside.

Agreed.

Not all the wolves were healed yet, and building a forge in the same space everyone would sleep in was not a good idea.

But this did look like a lot. The circular stick formation had several small piles, as well as bits of grass woven and shaped like metalworking tools. Among the tools was a hammer, an anvil, and tongs.

This forge is for studying the armor, right? What materials will we need to build all this?

Wood, we had plenty of. But to make tools that were strong enough to handle the armor? Especially since the tools would have to be heat-resistant, it looked difficult. Maybe that was why Andvari was so grumpy.

I- I don’t think we have the materials available to do all this.

But this is a forge we are building.

Andvari responds, incredulous at my reluctance.

I know, but we don’t even have a hammer at this point, Andvari. I don’t think we’ll be able to build your- what is this big pile? To your right?

I point to an especially large mound of twigs in the corner of the circular formation.

That’s the waterwheel.

Andvari gestures a large spinning motion with his hands.

A waterwheel? But we don’t have a river nearby.

Lady, all dwarven forges have a waterwheel. Andvari shrugs in response, taking a pause as he explains to me.

But why would you need a waterwheel for a forge?

The waterwheel works the bellows, turns the lathes, and hammers metals into thin sheets. Must I always explain these things to you?

I ignore the last bit at the end, even if it did kind of hurt. Out of the 5 members of the Unkindness that I could speak to, only 2 knew of the details of the world outside this place. Among the two, only Andvari was knowledgable on a variety of subjects. Crixus’ main areas of expertise was firmly planted in fights and strategies for battle.

By necessity, it had to be Andvari. And I did try to make it up to him by giving him extra bits of meat from my own share. It was the least I could do for him, when I was asking all these questions to someone who didn’t like to speak much.

But he never addressed his annoyance at answering my questions like this before.

Andvari was in a strange sort of mood for sure.

And how big does the waterwheel need to be?

Andvari squints, thinking to himself.

15 paces.

15 paces was a lot, even if those paces were dwarf-sized. Smaller than Crixus at his full height, but still taller than Greenie.

That’s pretty big..

I mutter, rubbing by beak with my wings. Looking up when Andvari’s shadow covers my body, I rear back in surprise at his twisted expression.

If we can’t have a waterwheel, then what’s the point of a forge?!! This is a forge we’re discussing, a dwarven forge!!

Andvari’s ferocious outburst had me frozen. Did I say anything to make him mad?

I didn’t mean- I don’t-

Of course you don’t know! You’re no dwarf. You’re a bird! All you do know is flying, fighting, and eating!

Andvari yanks at his matted hair, yelling while his arms wave at me.

And look at me! Look. At. Me. A dwarf?! A blind, useless dwarf!!

Oh no. It was happening again. That same darkness that settled on Andvari as he called himself a warped alloy. Why did Andvari hate himself so much!!

Master!!

Greenie rushes in, quick as ever to protect me. He scoops me up in his arms and jumps away from Andvari, watching the dwarf warily as he breaks down.

This isn’t about the waterwheel, is it, Andvari?

I ask quietly.

Lady, though my loyalty lies with you, I don’t want to discuss this.

Andvari quietly gets up, hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides, and marches straight back into the cave. Greenie and I watch as he stumbles, then steadies himself, cursing under his breath.

He left.

….

Better to give him some time to cool off. Using the information Andvari gave me before his outburst, I get Greenie started on churning up mud to create our charcoal.

Every once in a while, a wolf would drop by with some dried wood. The only problem was that to make the charcoal, we had to do it outside the safety of the bush that protected our clearing.

Master, no go. Bad dwarf.

Greenie tries to stop me when I finally dust my wings off, preparing to fly into the cave and look for Andvari.

It’s alright, Greenie. Andvari’s hurt.

Dwarf? Pain? No blood?

Greenie was telling me he hadn’t seen any injuries on Andvari.

No, not that kind of injury.

One here.

I tap at Greenie’s thick chest.

Why?

I for one, was pretty sure Andvari had some for of severe PTSD, but I didn't know how I would explain that to Greenie.

I don’t know why, Greenie. But something tells me we need to get this forge built. For Andvari.

Finish the mud for me, would you? I ask, flying out of Greenie’s arms and into the cave.

Past the sleeping wolves, to pick up a thin, short stick.

Schheeeeck!

Taking one end of the stick, I wrap it in a worn piece of burlap cloth, a scrap from Andvari’s clothes, and set it alight. The firepit burned brightly, but Andvari wasn't there.

Which was expected.

There was only one place Andvari could go to to be alone. No wolves bothered him here, and the vines surrounding the hole muffled Crixus’ snores.

Clenching my beak hard, I make a beeline straight for the gaping hole in the back of the cave, surrounded in a layer of thorns that made it look more ominous.

It was that freaky place that gave me the heebie-jeebies.

Alrighty then.

Taking a deep breath, I softly descend into the hole with my makeshift torch sputtering in my beak.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAKK!!

Instead of a soft descent, more like a straight up free fall!

Why was it windy down here!? Desperate, my wings flap until I can finally balance my body into a shaky hovering position.

Strange, I hadn’t felt any wind when I first looked into this place.

Another up current of wind blasts through my body, shaking me to the core.

And it was cold too!

But I gritted my beak and kept going, following the rope that kept the dwarf suspended in side this deep hole.

The further down I went, the stronger the wind here became. Andvari had lowered himself quite deeply into the cave, muttering to himself and scratching at the walls with his sword in one hand.

Andvari? What’s wrong??

Perhaps..I was wrong. I’d sworn never to craft again!!

I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS!!

It was the first time I’d felt Andvari’s pain and anger so clearly through the link we had. I can’t help rearing back at the intensity of emotion that roared at me. Were we back to the way things were when we first met, when Andvari was suspicious of me.

Where was this coming from? Andvari’s emotions was always neutral. At times, somewhat amused, other times, somewhat surprised sometimes at our antics. And there was his strange ability to dampen the emotional link between the two of us..

Especially when he was down in that hole, it was difficult for me to detect his emotions.

The deep distrust he’d had when we first met was back.

Another blast of wind sends me splattering against the rough walls of the hole. Hooking my talons into the rocky wall, I hold on for dear life. Andvari's body swings on the rope as well, though he doesn't seem to care.

I couldn't leave him down here like this. He'd seemed so much better recently, finally letting go of that sword sometimes. I glance at the rope he was strapped to. But he might try to jump down..

There was no way I was going to leave him alone.

Come on, Andvari! I’ve kept our promise. My wings are healed, and I’m with you, here. And the alloys, I brought you the alloys like what I talked about before. Let’s go build our forge!

Andvari slowly turns to face me, his twisted face slackening in surprise that I was here. He knew I didn’t like this place.

Come on, Andvari! Let’s go back up!!

Lady??

The expression on his face seemed to be asking me if I was truly worthy of his trust.

No…

He turns away again.

I’ve never built a forge before! Andvari growls, gripping painful fistfuls of his long beard.

But why not? You knew the plans of how to build one, a grand one, too.

I say, thinking back to the plans that laid forgotten outside our cave.

The fires that burn in the High Mountain are eternal. They have a beginning, but no end.

The dwarf wrings his hands, expression desperate. I gulp, watching the rope system that kept him safe swung him in the air with his movements.

Andvari… I don’t understand…

Hrothgar lit the First Fire in the High Mountain. With the fire, he imparted the knowledge of the forge to the first dwarves.

Can’t we use your knowledge to build the forge then?

My forge..

In the darkness of the deep hole, with emptiness surrounding us, I could only focus on the expression on Andvari’s face. His lips were knit tightly together to hide the trembling, bushy eyebrows drawn together in great pain.

You don’t understand. A forge is not built. It is born. Forges are passed from master to disciple; father to son. I, and the other dwarves of this generation included, have never built a forge.

The emotional wall Andvari had placed between us weakens again. I can feel Andvari’s emotions, tightly lidded into the very depths of his heart.

A flash of a cruel, smiling face crosses my mind. It was a dark-haired dwarf, looking so different from Andvari. Cheeks ruddy and full of life, blue eyes sparkling in a terrible happiness. His dark hair was braided intricately to frame his face. The beard too, was braided, decorated with polished stones.

Who was this dwarf??

It wasn’t Andvari.

Was I seeing into Andvari’s head? Did this have to do with the strange title Andvari had when he first showed up? Forsaken, was it?

Doing my best to stay relaxed in this situation, I tighten my beak on the rocky outcropping; waiting for Andvari to continue.

But he didn’t. He didn’t say anything about the dwarf I’d seen.

Could you at least tell me about Hrothgar, and how he built the forges?

Andvari doesn’t respond.

We’ll figure something out. I try to reach him again using our thought link.

He doesn’t face me even as I continue my attempts to talk to him.

Don’t make me go over there, Andvari! I call out.

No response.

Sigh.. I have to go over there then..

That leaves me no choice but to crawl over with my body plastered to the walls of the deep hole. I have to clench my whole body tight to keep myself from shivering.

A glance down into the depths of the hole..

It looked like the open mouth of a terrible beast. The jagged rocks around me like teeth that went on forever. Grinning, waiting to gobble me up.

I shouldn’t have done that!!

REALLY shouldn’t have done that!

Now I was shaking, hard enough that my talons scrabbled to get a good grip.

Fwip-fwip!

The flame on my torch shook crazily as the wind buffeted it.

Clack!

A pile of loose stones crumble under my talon and I drop my torch. The dark walls of black press even closer, the wind whistling close to my body. This was making me claustrophobic.

Uh-oh. Now all I had to depend on was the Night Vision skill. Everything was too dark. I could barely see!

With another deep breath, I continue. If he didn’t catch me soon, I would fall deeper into this windy pit. It would be very, very hard for me to regain my bearings in this wind and fly out again.

This was a leap of faith.

You tell me how Hrothgar built his forge, and we’ll figure it out together.

Holding out my wing to him, I jump to Andvari. Slowly, his large hands trace the air until it gently settles on my body.

Though he gives no verbal response, his hands that slowly pet my feathers was all the response I needed.

I press a wing to my chest to calm my frantically beating heart.

Relief warms my heart when Andvari begins cranking the lever that would take him back up, out of the hole. Gentle fingers wrap his long beard around me to keep me warm.

Shuddering, I wait, closing my eyes till Andvari can get us out of here. The darkness behind my closed lids seemed warmer than the darkness felt in here.

I can’t help stroking my fingers through the shock of white feathers at my throat. It felt irritated, dry.

But why did it feel like a scar so similar to the one Andvari carried; was engraved into my own body as well?

Ding~!

[Skill: Night Vision upgraded from LV1 to LV2!]