The Nekromancer - 111. Epilogue

Darkness filled the forge, Amnor Sen letting out a quiet sigh as he let his hammer fall to his side. All consuming, the pitchblack drowned out even the flames of his forge, denying him any ability to work.

“Krem, I need to work on the glaives for the faithful.”

“But I want to go outside again!”

The drow was hiding somewhere in the room, his eyes perfectly suited for the dark. It was a game for the boy, a test for Amnor Sen. He would not begrudge the half human his racial heritage, nor would he get angry at Krem for exercising the abilities he held. Though they made forging a real pain in the ass.

Since receiving his goggles, Krem had shown an exuberance that surprised Amnor Sen. Over the last year, he had been forced to adjust his way of life, his way of thinking, and the elf wouldn’t change that for anything, even if change was difficult to begin with.

They had thrived through an anonymous gift, a holy sword and a haversack of wands delivered by a random stranger the day after he had brought Krem home. The lights in the sky had eventually faded, and he didn’t know what had become of the catfolk who dared to face the gods, but Amnor Sen heard rumours that he had succeeded, that prayers had been answered by a force in Jakun’s name. He hoped they held truth, if only to let himself believe that Jeremy’s death had not been in vain.

“Fine, go outside and play. But you better not rip your new clothes, or you’ll be the one sewing them back together,” the smith said, staring in the direction of the heat he was pretty sure was the forge.

“Can I use pink fabric?”

The elf rolled his eyes as the darkness retreated.

“That was not an invitation to rip your clothes up. If you want, I’ll take you to temple tomorrow and we can have someone show you how to fix clothing,” he said. “It is not a skill I am well versed in, but if it is where your art begins, then I will do what I can. Now please, go eat your lunch and let me work in peace. If you want to help, you can pump the bellows. It will be good for your muscles.”

The drow approached the bellows by the forge, grabbing the lever that controlled them before dangling on it with a grin. He slowly descended, the fire hissing as air was fed into it, and Amnor Sen took advantage of the increased flames, setting his metal within.

“Good job,” he praised. “But next time, try to pull. It gives a more steady flow.”

“Okay Daddy…”

The elf felt his heart soar at the words, the affirmation. From warrior to father… he had come so far so fast. Being married to Jeremy and adventuring with Jakun had been trying, but Amnor Sen was grateful every day for the experience. He knew his life with Krem would have its own struggles, but the elf was prepared for them. And though he had never reached Mendev, though Loran still remained alive, the paladin was happy. Not all stories needed an ending. Sometimes it was better to start a new one.