David Bishop and the Mystic of Creation T.C. Crawford (icecream ebook reader txt) 📖

captured by the elves down at the edge of the forest when they had been ambushed by Jakob and his Guild once again. All the while, Prince Gilric sat patiently listening to their tales and saying very little but nodding his head as the story unfolded to acknowledge that he was following along.

When they finished, he seemed very troubled by the capture of David.  He knew that David played a key role in the prophecies related to taking down the Defiant One and his demon army, and because of this, he pledged his support for their mission in getting him back. If David were to fail in his mission, the elves would have a much greater threat at their doorsteps that would threaten their peace for generations to come. Possibly even their survival. That was a risk he was not willing to take.

At last, when the night was growing late and their eyes could hardly stay open any longer, the companions expressed their gratitude to Gilric for his kindness and hospitality.

He had one of the housekeeping elves, fair as ever with very obvious feminine features, prepare them each a room for the night with the promise of catching up in the morning to see them off on their journey. He said their bags would be waiting for them, restocked with some additional surprises, when they awoke the next morning. They each wondered what the surprises could possibly be, but he would only smile and tell them to wait and see in the light of the morning.

That night, Gilric had the smithies up all night, preparing for his guests a set of magically enhanced blades fitting for each of their preferred combat styles.

For Erin, he had crafted a lightweight, curved blade that would easily compliment her smaller frame – its weight balanced perfectly to match her dance-like fighting style. Its edge was thin and sharp like a razor, but strong as the hardest steel. It would never dull and would cut through anything unfortunate enough to feel its sting as easily as a hot knife cuts through butter.

He also crafted her a bow such as the ones the elves had carried. They were particularly effective against the undead and demons, as their arrows were made from the wood of the great white tree and would have devastating effect on anything dark and unholy.

For Reingard and Holzer he had crafted great twin battle axes – their pommels shaped with a spike at the end for an extra means of defense. They were imbued with a spell that would enhance the strength of their wielders, given them super-human strength to take down their enemies and incite a fear in the hearts of anyone who would stand in their way.

For Tyrius, he had crafted a twisted staff cut from the heart of the ancient white tree itself. Its magical properties would enhance his skills tenfold, giving his powers increased vitality and taking much less of a toll on his body and mind with each casting. It was impossible to break and would never show signs of wearing.

Finally, he crafted one final blade for David, for when they found him once again. It was a long blade, lightweight and curved like Erin’s, but it had the emblem of the orb engraved on each side of the blade, with ancient ruins of power dedicated to the bearer of the Orb of Power. Its pommel was elaborately decorated and capped with a jewel that sparkled with the brilliance of a million stars. The blade was foretold in legends that were passed down by the Elves for centuries, and now with David’s appearance, it was time for the weapon of legend to be forged into reality.

Each of these weapons would serve them well in the coming battles, having been forged precisely for the purpose of combating demons and other creatures from the depths of the Dark Abyss – their powers rendering such foes obsolete. In all the lands there were no better forgers than the elves when it came to weapons. The Dwarves were masters of armor, true, but the elves were masters of war.

Chapter XX

The next morning Erin and the others awoke with the early rays of the sun shining through their windows. It was a gentle waking, something they had each missed dearly and had been rare since they left Ravenfell.

Their last good night’s sleep was spent in the halls of the Dwarven city of Emerald Keep when they were staying in King Tybrin’s quarters, however, the light there was not natural, having only been provided by artificial means, being underground and deep within the mountains.

There was nothing more natural than being woken by the gentle light of the morning sun shining through the canopy of the great tree above while listening to the morning song of the birds.

When they each got up, at the foot of each of their beds were their packs, just as Gilric had promised. They were each full to the brim with clean bedding and fresh food that would last them weeks in the wilderness.

Aside each of the packs lay their newly forged weapons glittering in the morning sun like precious artifacts found within a king’s treasure room.

They each slowly walked to their individual weapons in awe, inspecting them up and down and running their fingers along their expertly crafted surfaces.

Erin lifted her blade and gave it a few practice swings, marveling at how light the blade sat in her hand and how perfectly it fit her grip. It whizzed through the air as she spun it around in an arcing circle, feeling as if the blade were cutting the air itself.

She placed it back in its scabbard, which was also finely decorated in precious gold and silver designs running up and down its front, before securing it to her belt at her hip.

She then went to her bow and ran her fingers down its spine, gently testing the pull of the string. It hummed in a