The Gift

The Drunics closed in on Nairden, the young Dwarven cleric, disarmed and vulnerable he appeared to be easy prey now.

“Leave or die,” the challenge rang out, echoing off the walls of the small cave. Two elves stood, swords drawn, ready for combat. One held a hand out toward the dwarf, muttering words the Drunics knew to magic, the other approached the prone form, sword glistening in the meagre light provided by the same medallion the dwarf wore.

“You leave or he dies,” one Drunic countered.

“Told you, Sun,” Moonhawk said, “I don’t know why we still bother.”

“Rules,” Sunhawk replied, “I’m taking that to mean you wish to fight?” He added to the Drunics, like ogres they were large unlike ogres they had intellect.

What followed was brief yet messy. Sun’s spell protected the dwarf long enough for his twin sister Moonhawk to re-arm him, adding her own sword as well. Sunhawk came from the rear, forcing them to divide their forces.

******** ****** *****

The two elves stood in the chamber, shuffling nervously as all eyes focused on them.

“I think I preferred the Drunics,” Moonhawk muttered to her twin as King Cairngorm began speaking again of their valour. “We did our duty, nothing more, Nairden knows that.”

“In honour of the safe return of my son, Nairden, I would like to present Sunhawk and Moonhawk these swords, forged of elven steel left over from when our races were allied by our finest craftsman and imbued with the magic that combination has always created, it is the finest gift we can offer, a mere trifle compared to the gift you gave me.”

Both Elves bowed with respect. Moonhawk saw the light glowing from each sword, the fine edge on then too. She gripped the offered hilt and smiled, “Hawkblade,” she whispered.

word count: 300