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    Yeoldebard
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Nekromancer - 109. Chapter 109

The elf opened the door into darkness, the bright light outside not penetrating the thick shadows within the orphanage. Even his elven eyes couldn’t see the interior of the building, and Amnor Sen didn’t dare step inside.

“Hello?”

“Gods bless it Krem, I said enough! Now turn the lights back on!”

“No!”

Amnor Sen grimaced, wishing more than ever that he had learned to cast spells.

“Krem?” he called, gasping as the drow appeared in front of him.

The half human’s eyes squinted, his face shrouded by the darkness, and Amnor Sen sighed, kneeling so he was face level with the boy.

“Why are you casting dark spells?”

“My eyes hurt,” the drow said angrily. “I don’t want the sun.”

The elf flinched in sympathy. He knew about the dark elves’ hatred of the light, but he had always assumed it had to do with them being evil, but it seemed it was just a racial trait, no different from his ability to see in dim light. To be forced to see the light every day… it had to be painful.

“Do you think you could handle being in the sun for a time? I might be able to help you,” Amnor Sen said gently.

“No. I don’t want the sun.”

Slowly the darkness dissipated, Krem flinching as the light from outside crawled over his face. Amnor Sen stepped inside quickly, the elf closing the door to cast the building back into shade. He could see, and the light levels shouldn’t hurt Krem’s eyes, but he could see a candle burning in the other room, and Amnor Sen frowned slightly as the man in charge of the orphanage stepped through the door.

“You again? Krem, go to the bedroom and play with your brother and sister.”

The drow pouted, his eyes squinting as he walked into the other room. The candle was snuffed out, the sound of complaining children following as the room was once again plunged into darkness.

“You win. Take him, do whatever you want, I don’t really care anymore,” the human grumbled, falling against a wall in exhaustion.

“You’re burning his eyes. Did you even try to ask why he wants it dark in here?”

“Why would I? He’s just a kid who doesn’t know how to behave!” the man snapped.

“He seemed very forward when I asked. The light burns his eyes; it’s a common trait in dark elves,” Amnor Sen pointed out. “If I held a torch to your eyes, wouldn’t you try to stop the light from burning you?”

“I have other children to think about in here. I can’t put the needs of one over everyone else!”

Amnor Sen shook his head slowly, setting a bag beside the man.

“What is this?”

“Halfling wanderbread. There’s two months worth in this bag. Eat it with your stew, and it will fill you up,” the elf said. “I’ll be back, I should still have a few gold left.”

“You’re not taking him with you? I thought you wanted the damned drow… You can have him.”

“No, I’m not taking him into the sun without protection for his eyes. I should be able to trade a few more favours to Shelyn’s clergy. Maybe go on a quest to find a rare piece of art,” Amnor Sen said, turning to the door.

He stepped outside once more, making sure to keep the sun out of the orphanage. Heading toward the market district, the paladin spent some time searching, finally coming away with a pair of spectacles made of quartz for only forty gold. He still had to deal with the clerics, but that was merely a matter of trading favours.

“Back again?” a cleric smiled as he entered the museum yet again.

Amnor Sen let out a painful smile, the effort hurting his heart as he thought of Jeremy. But he still pushed on, shaking his head.

“I have another favour to ask. I know I’m reaching my limits here, but this is for the orphanage I spoke of earlier. One of the children has issues with their eyes and the light. I was hoping you could help me enchant these spectacles so he could see in the light without his eyes hurting.”

He held out the quartz, the cleric taking the glasses with a soft hum.

“The lenses are far too thick for any enchantment to take hold without effort,” she said regretfully. “However, one of our glassworkers might be able to come up with a solution. Is his eyesight poor in general, or are you merely searching for a way to cast shadows on his eyes?”

“I believe shadows are all that are required,” Amnor Sen said.

“We do have a pair of goggles. I believe you are a smith, yes? The goggles wouldn’t affect his vision, would likely offer protection in a forge, and would grant protection from bright light. We could enchant them for you, but the cost is rather high, as the spell is a strong one not many are granted by Shelyn.”

“Of course,” Amnor Sen nodded. “I am low on gold, but I can pay in other ways, should that be acceptable. This is for a child, and I would hate to see them go without.”

“As would we,” the cleric replied. “All that we ask is that you help us restore our stock of glaives. We have had many leave the temple lately, travelling the world to spread Shelyn’s message, and they each took one of the weapons with them. We’ll enchant the goggles for your child, and after, we will expect ten glaives.”

Amnor Sen agreed quickly. The metal involved would be difficult to procure, but if he slipped a glaive between his other orders, once he got going in the forge, the elf would probably have the order complete within two months. For several hundred gold worth of casting, that seemed like a good deal.

Barely an hour later, the paladin had his hands on the goggles, trading the quartz glasses for them. Stained a light red in colour, and adjustable in the back, Amnor Sen thought they would go well on the drow, and he could feel the magic in them. They would work, he was sure of it.

Copyright © 2020 Yeoldebard; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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