The Flame’s Whereabouts – Part 04

Dodonno looked up at the tapestry hanging on the wall.

It was a gift from his younger brother, Dodorono, to their mother. Dodorono was around ten years old when he gave it, already drawn more to clothing than smithing. He had started attending a weaving workshop and made this tapestry there. He spent all the allowance he’d saved up until then to buy thread and created this piece for their mother. Other Dwarves that age were restlessly waiting for the day they’d finally be allowed to hold a hammer or sneaking sips of alcohol to pretend they were full-fledged Dwarves.

When Dodonno saw the tapestry, it crushed him. His brother’s talent was incredible, and he realized he could never do something like this. But the next feeling that rose in him was a desire to help. He decided then and there that he would be his brother’s biggest supporter. He would help Dodorono pursue whatever he wanted to do.

A lot of time had passed since then, but the tapestry was still well-maintained and proudly displayed. That meant their mother must have been truly happy to receive it.

There were no windows in the room, but to their mother, this tapestry had been a window to the world outside.

They had never talked about it directly, but Dodonno was sure. Every time she looked at the tapestry, she thought of Dodorono. Dodorono was someone who shattered the stereotypes of Dwarves.

“So Dad understands Lord Brigid’s will. That we should leave this country. That’s why he told me and Dodorono to go.”

“Yes.”

“But if that’s the case, then you and Dad should come with us.”

“If only it were that easy.”

“What are you hesitating for? That’s what Lord Brigid wants.”

“It’s not that simple. Neither of us has much time left, and we’re attached to this house.”

“What if there’s an earthquake? That giant anvil might fall. Is this really the time for that?”

“Our grandparents’ graves are here. So are our ancestors’. If even we were gone, we wouldn’t be able to face them.”

“That kind of duty only matters if you’re alive.”

His mother gave a weak shake of her head, then fell silent.

Looking at her, Dodonno realized that his mother and father had already made up their minds. They had come to accept that this country would fall.

They had already accepted the end.

They believed, with conviction, that someone had to stay behind, and that it had to be them.

---

There was a hollow even deeper within the great cavern. As Hikaru advanced, he wondered what the structure of this mountain really looked like. Any sign of people had completely vanished. A smooth-floored passage stretched ahead and eventually opened into a wide space.

“Is this the place?” Hikaru asked.

“Y-Yeah, probably. I’ve never been here myself, so I can’t say for sure.”

Since no one else was around, Dodorono let go of Hikaru’s cloak and stepped ahead.

It was vast. Just a massive, empty space. There was nothing there. No, there was one thing: a single chair. A huge throne fit for a king.

“That’s odd. I heard there was supposed to be a statue of Lord Brigid here, but there’s nothing.”

“A statue?”

High above, a hole gaped in the ceiling, revealing a patch of blue sky. Could there really have been a statue tall enough to pierce the heavens?

“No, much smaller,” Dodorono said. “It should’ve been beside that throne-like chair.”

“Is this really all there is in this space? Even with the heads of the twelve clans gathering here, it’s way too spacious.”

“Not at all. Every year, the master blacksmiths from each clan would line up their finest work right here. They said the collection was so splendid and luxurious that just looking at it would make a blacksmith’s hands itch to create.”

“And yet there’s nothing.”

“Right, nothing.”

Hikaru crouched down. Looking closer, the ground was covered in fine scratches, evidence that something solid had once been placed there.

But that was it. While it was strange that everything was gone, his only real thought was, so what now?

No discoveries. Not even a flicker on Hikaru’s Mana Detection.

“Dodorono…” Hikaru trailed off.

Standing at the center of the hall, hand on his chin, deep in thought, Dodorono looked unlike any Dwarf. If the backdrop had been a ballroom, the image might have been fit for a painting.

A quiet chuckle escaped Hikaru.

Dodorono, who loved stylish clothes and was meticulous about fashion, had even worked out just to wear those outfits properly. If his physique ever threatened the silhouette, he’d rather give up alcohol and get into shape.

At first, Hikaru thought he was an odd Dwarf, but after spending time in this country, he realized: it was because he was a Dwarf that Dodorono pursued his passion so fiercely.

It was clear that there was no stage in Ironforge for Dodorono to truly shine. So he should leave, without delay.

“Let’s go, Dodorono. There’s no reason left to stay in this country.”

“Hm? Ah… yeah.” Dodorono looked up at the sky with a hint of regret. “Seems like Lord Brigid isn’t here anyway.”

“Oh? I felt an unusual presence and came to see… and it looks like I’ve found something even rarer.”

The voice sounded like it came from the heavens, and at the same time, like a whisper directly in their ears. It was definitely a boy’s high-pitched voice. Hikaru and Dodorono both froze in place.

“Ahh. Ahh, yeah, I can talk. I can talk, I can talk. Seriously, speaking is such a hassle.”

Even though Hikaru’s Mana Detection had picked up nothing before, now he could sense a faint trace of magical energy. The speaker—someone in the form of a boy—was seated on the lone throne in the vast chamber. He slouched against the backrest, right leg crossed over the left.

“A-Are you Lord Brigid?!” Dodorono exclaimed.

“The one and only,” the boy replied leisurely.

Hikaru stared at him intently. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and shorts, an outfit not suitable for this cold place. The shirt gleamed white, clearly a luxury item. The argyle vest and matching shorts shimmered faintly with a purple light, likely from the mana woven into the fabric. Hikaru realized that it wasn’t the boy triggering his Mana Detection but his clothing.

In other words, the boy—Brigid—gave off no magical energy at all.

With golden, silky hair and a youthful face that looked no older than ten, he was clearly an anomaly.

“You’ve got some connection to drakons, don’t you?”

He shot a glare at Hikaru. His eyes seemed very normal, nothing like Talis or the Fire Drakon. Even Dodorono, who had been stunned at first, was starting to settle down.

“I do,” Hikaru admitted. “The Fire Drakon, specifically.”

“So it was you Tartarais was talking about.”

“You sensed when I arrived?”

“Obviously.”

Hikaru had no idea what was so obvious about it, but considering how even Talis had sensed something strange in him, maybe this was just normal for their kind.

“But never mind that. You there! The Dwarf that doesn’t look like a Dwarf! What are you?”

“M-Me?”

“Yes, you! What even are you?”

“My name is Dodorono.”

Even though he had left Ironforge, Dodorono couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. The Brigid he had worshipped since childhood—the divine figure—was right there in front of him.

“Dodorono, huh… whatever. I don’t really care about your name. What I want to know is why you’re dressed so unlike a Dwarf.”

“W-Well… I tailored these myself. I just happen to like this style of clothing.”

Brigid leaned forward. “You made it yourself? Really?!”

“Y-Yes, and because of that, I don’t quite fit in among Dwarf society.”

“Fascinating!” Brigid clapped his hands. “The silhouette is solid, but what stands out is the detail. There’s a subtle sheen in the backstitching. It’s not just thread, is it?”

“Y-You’re absolutely right. I spun insect wings into the thread.”

“And those buttons look unusual.”

“I used gallstones from a magical beast.”

“Gallstones! You’re an idiot. A brilliant idiot!”

Brigid burst into laughter, while Hikaru, only now realizing the weirdness of it, stared at Dodorono in disbelief.

“I, uh…” Dodorono was completely at a loss. Called an idiot, laughed at, but also seen and understood. He didn’t know how to react.

“Ahh, that was a good laugh. Haven’t laughed that hard in ages. My jaw hurts, and I thought my diaphragm was going to cramp.” Brigid rubbed his cheek with one hand. “I’ll give it to you.”

“Huh? Give what?”

“I said I’ll give it to you. That flame you all call the Progenitor’s Forge.”

Dodorono froze, his mouth hanging open. Hikaru was just as stunned. But he also realized something.

The flame chooses, the master is chosen.

Those words had confused Hikaru at first. He had misunderstood them, assuming the flame had already chosen its master. But that wasn’t it. The flame had chosen to vanish from the forge. And the master was someone who would be chosen, not someone already decided.

In other words, the master hadn’t been chosen yet.

“So? Do you intend to accept it?”

Brigid grinned, but all traces of boyish innocence were gone. His smile was twisted. Wicked, cunning. Hikaru wasn’t sure if Dodorono noticed.

Dodorono lowered his head. “May I speak, Lord Brigid?”

“Mm-hmm. Go ahead.”

“I must decline.”

“Oh? Then I shall give it to you—huh?” Brigid looked aghast. He had clearly not expected a refusal. “What did you just say?”

“I said, I must decline.” Dodorono lifted his head. There was serenity in his eyes. “I love clothing. The smoothness of the fabric, its power to transform how someone is perceived, the way it becomes part of the body. But fire? Fire burns. It is the enemy of clothing. I have no need for it.”

Brigid’s face turned blank as a mask.

What is that look? Hikaru wondered. I thought he’d be furious. He couldn’t read his intentions.

“I see. Very well. This may not end well for you, but I’ll make the decision myself.”

Brigid rose. With a snap of his fingers, a beam of light shot up from the center of the hall. It lasted only a few seconds, and then the room dimmed again.

“Lord Brigid, what was that light just now?” Dodorono asked.

But Brigid had vanished without a trace.