The White Lady - Volume 6

The White Lady : Volume 6

Children armed with sandwiches continue to roam the city, often stopping to share with guards, slaves, and the workers. One particular boy stands shorter than most his age, looking as if stunted by a past of poverty or poor nutrition rather than genetic heritage. Daniel sports a shock of wheat blond hair, and his bright blue eyes sparkle among a freckled-cheek joyful grin while sharing with others. Whenever asked where the sandwiches he passes out are from, he tells people that the White Lady gives them to him, always too many for just him - left as he sleeps. So he shares.

Over a span of weeks Daniel spends more and more time in the Forge district, as if drawn by understanding that those laboring need the food. His cheerful face becomes more and more known, to the point many look up in anticipation of his arrival; Dwarves and Shaahesk alike. The watchful boy hovers more about the anvils as he's able, and hears the guards speak to the workers in a rough and guttural tongue. Though he clearly doesn't understand the words, the tone is one significantly lacking in any respect, and the boy frowns.

Later, he approaches the Shaahesk weaponsmith and offers him not one sandwich, but two, as if trying to make up for the guard's lapse in behavior. His eyes stray to what the tall lean craftsman is making and his eyes widen. Rather than a standard hilt, for Daniel had seen many in his short life, a winding serpent bound the hilt to cross guard and symbols of another language had been pressed into the metal. Surely someone who created such beauty would be respected. Seeing the child's eyes alight on the sword, the worker quickly hid it away, as if embarrassed and began working again on blades similar to those that Daniel had seen time after time created in the area. The incident made Daniel curious, why would anyone hide such beauty?

When he arrived home that evening, one room of many small rooms some refugees had begun sharing after the birth of 'New Elysia,' the boy took out a scrap of paper and wrote something carefully on the pace with a bit of charcoal he'd been able to find among the forge works. After inspecting his writing, he curled up with scrunched up eyes that finally relaxed as his breathing slowed. Late in the night a luminescent glow gently lit the room and a lady in shimmering white entered. As she bent to relieve herself of a burden of food, she spotted the scrap of paper. After trading sandwiches for the page she turned the paper over and wrote something. The quiet lady stood looking at the young boy a moment before tucking his blankets close around him and placing a gentle kiss upon his brow. In a breath, she was gone.

Days passed, and Daniel grew more bold, speaking greetings to Shaahesk as well as the Dwarves. He realized he had picked up a few words from each, though not many. He could at least tell those receiving sandwiches "Hello". Even if his tongue felt awkward with the words, those receiving them looked appreciative. But more than that, he started speaking to the weaponsmith specifically. "Do you like making swords?" "What is your favorite kind of sandwich?" "Do you have brothers and sisters?" At first the lanky Shaahesk with blue iridescence among his scales merely grunted, but over time he began to speak one-word replies, and Daniel realized that his newfound companion was learning his language as much as Daniel was learning his. So the boy took heart and continued asking, though each time he paused towards the end of the conversation, as if to say more, but did not. And he didn't see the weapon with the serpent hilt for a long time.

A month passed, and the weather became cool. However, the temperature of the area near the forge seemed hot among the cinders. Daniel saw more and more guards frequent the area and relax in the unnatural warmth. Their interaction came as clusters, and they avoided contact with the craftsmen as if they carried an unknown illness. The few times they did interact, guards seemed harsh and demeaning towards the laborers. The worst came when a guard spied something Daniel had not, the artisan working on the serpent hilted weapon. He only heard a crash and raucous hissing laughter. By the time the boy had sprinted towards the area, all he saw was his blue tinged friend tossing in broken parts of the ornamental weapon into scrap to be melted down as a group of bulky guards strode out of the area.

"Why? Why would they do that?"

"It isss my foolissssh flaw. I thought to hide my dessssignssss in a weapon, but they are not any more functional than one created fassssster. The dessignssss are only for beauty. It disssstractsss from the war and takessss too much time." The Shaahesk's tongue flickered before he turned back to his forge, though his pounding rhythm was to a slower tempo.

"I think it was special. I liked it." Daniel hoped his words helped. Just in case, he left two sandwiches.

"You are a hatchling, you will learn."

Daniel left and wrote a note, leaving it by his bed before sleep. When he awoke, he had a reply and sandwiches. This time a little bag rested near the food. In it he found threads of silver and a note, which made his face shine.

He beamed as he walked rounds, giving blessings of the White Lady, sandwiches, and words of encouragement and hope. But he saved his Shaheesk companion till last. Shyly Daniel passed over the worker's favorite sandwich (which may have been wiggling, but Daniel didn't want to think too hard on that) and the bag.

"It's from the White Lady. She says she likes your work, too, and beauty holds its own power."

A clawed hand took the bag deftly, a testament to years of his craft. There were no other words, but a nod as he tucked the bag into a leather apron. Day after day Daniel continued to pass out the White Lady's gifts, and each day there was a small bag or box with metal parts, silver, gold, copper. Sometimes they had cubes of exotic or hard woods, silks and dyes. They always had words, though Daniel stopped reading them after the first. One day, as winter was on the cusp of becoming spring Daniel was passing on his bag when his friend stopped him with a raised hand.

'It isssss enough.' Daniel's face fell until the lean worker bent down to speak with him, something he'd never done before.

'Thank you kihuka.' The reptilian tongue flickered as he passed a small bag into Daniel's hands.

After that day, Daniel never saw him again. Rumor had it that a lady in white guided him from the city to a place safe for all, that he could create his art in peace. To this day, Daniel keeps a beautiful and unique looking amulet around his neck; an intricate toy top of layered light and dark woods with fine inlays. When it is spun by its cord, beautiful designs are made. And as he passes out sandwiches, the now-older teen tells of the power of inner beauty.