Dang it's dusty in here!

As a rule, a dwarf never mined new areas alone. After all, unfamiliar stone could conceal hidden dangers. Handfuls of them would go out to retrieve crafting materials. Often, Clem found himself on the same team as Gurdis. Her favorite treasure tended to match the blue of her eyes. She was also quite fond of tripping him with her pickaxe. They bickered for hours over ideal mining spots, and who received what material to craft into merchandise at the market. By the time they were young adults, they bickered over who would propose first. (Clem would. Not that Gurdis would ever admit it.) They always had something to argue about in their house. It was wonderful! Home was where the stubborn, immovable rock, that never let you forget that one time you lost an argument about the price of a pair of sapphire earrings, was.

.

The flow of trade in and out of the caverns never ceased. Surface dwellers' need for stone, metal and gems was unending, and dwarves like Clem would rather avoid any and all water-based travel. Humans were eager to sail anyway—especially to places they shouldn't. This mysterious urge never quite made sense to Gurdis either. Steep, dangerous mountainsides, sure, that was a good Tuesday night. Churning waters with nary a rock in sight? Hard pass. Still, it made for interesting stories at the market.

The only reason Clem remembered any stranger's name past a transaction was to prove or deny their usefulness to Gurdis. She was particularly adamant that a human named Elliot Stillwater was crap at metalwork, but had a better eye for precious gems than Clem did. “Well, of course he's a crap smithy, he's not even fifty,” Clem pointed out. “Could hardly expect a child to know how to temper a blade worth anything at the market.” But he took offense to the other accusation. He'd live around rocks and gems for his entire life! If some human child knew more about them than he did, he'd eat his hat!

Clem stopped wearing hats. It became apparent that he'd picked a fight with, as Elliot put it, a “total nerd.” Humans on the surface apparently had an entire college dedicated to the study of every rock under the sun and the earth. This one in particular had a vested interest in how dwarves utilized them—hence his frequent visits. When Gurdis asked why he didn't leave when Clem started interrogating him every few minutes, Elliot said he “loved pop quizzes.” No matter how many times Clem denied it, the human regrettably referred to him as a close friend.

.

The first time Clem traveled on the surface for days was to do a heist.

Elliot wouldn't shut up about this dwarven axe that once belonged to Clem's clan but was stolen by some raiders centuries ago. It now sat in some human's fort on the surface as a trophy of conquest. Gurdis was adamant it be returned. Clem knew Elliot couldn't tell a dwarf's handiwork from an orc's. But his wife just wouldn't let it go. Eventually he turned to her and declared he would get the axe himself if it meant she'd finally believe him. She told him he wouldn't make it a day on the surface. And that's how they found themselves joining Elliot's trade group for a little detour. The fort welcomed them without fuss. Gleefully, Elliot pointed it out as they passed through the mess hall. Clem's expected triumph withered away when he realized that, not only was the axe of dwarven make, it was a treasured heirloom of his clan. And it sat several meters above a roaring fireplace. Gurdis got that smug look on her face...

Two pickaxes, a sudden musical number, a broken wall, and a runaway cart later, Clem was telling Elliot to shut his gob while strapping the axe to his back. He didn't even attempt silencing Gurdis, who had been crowing her triumph even while dismantling the fort wall. At least the feast thrown by the clan elder at the axe's return made the hassle worth it. That, and they got to watch Elliot get absolutely sloshed on dwarven mead. Served him right.

This little adventure, unfortunately, had motivated the human to bring more opportunities to his doorstep. Apparently there was a treasure trove of dwarven items to be returned. And when those slowed to a trickle, Elliot convinced them to participate in other 'liberation efforts.' They were getting rather talented at it, after all. Robbery after break-in after heist followed. A reputation began to build, of “a chatty charlatan and his gruff dwarf bodyguards 'liberating' artifacts.” Clem regretted ever listening to him.

.

Nalesha Ernathrevar was only one of many “acquaintances” that Elliot brought to Clem and Gurdis' shop. She wasn't the first half-elf, or druid, to propose returning dwarven belongings to their rightful place. Once before, she had happily caused them to trek through spider-ridden woods for what turned out to be nothing. Gurdis had particularly hated that trip. But Nalesha did bring them the first underground adventure. A nearby cavern had collapsed, burying precious cargo and several bodies beneath rubble. Some high elves had been traveling to return a long lost hammer, as a show of good faith. Gurdis once again couldn't let it go, and Clem decided for the nth time to shut her up by proving her wrong. Of course they wouldn't find some incredible hammer just sitting under some rocks! It was going to be a waste of time, he knew it. Gurdis told him to stay home if he was so certain. He refused, of course. If nothing else, they could do some mining in the area so they didn't return home empty-handed.

Smalltalk was plentiful on the way. Gurdis argued with Clem about Nalesha's earrings. Nalesha complimented Elliot's adventuring spirit. Clem quizzed Nalesha on the hammer they were retrieving. He was becoming more and more convinced that this was a fool's errand. She didn't even know the hammer's name. Elliot pointed out she wouldn't know much about metal weapons anyway, being a druid.

“What's that got to do with anything?” Gurdis' sharp voice carried through the tunnel. Clem, bringing up the rear, told her to quiet down.

“Druids don't carry metal on them,” Elliot explained, falling into that annoying scholarly tone of his. Gurdis came to a halt, allowing him and Nalesha to pass her. “Y'see, they're concerned with the balance of nature. They can't use anything they consider “unnatural,” like metal or—” He nearly bumped into the half-elf when she stopped ahead of him. “Nalesha? What's wrong?”

She ignored him, peering back at Clem and Gurdis. “Is something the matter, friend?”

At first, Clem expected his wife to begin crowing about a new victory. But Gurdis wasn't dredging up an old argument. Eyeing him, she remained where she stood. “Then what is our druid friend here doing with metal earrings?”

Elliot frowned, as if it hadn't occurred to him to ask until now. He turned. Clem moved, but his wife was faster. Two shouts, a flash of metal, the thunk of a bolt, and an outraged cry later, Clem was telling Elliot to run while flinging his pickaxe at Nalesha. The half-elf sank to the ground at the same time as Gurdis, but not before lifting her arms with the crackle of magic. The tunnel roared, until treacherous stone collapsed. But Clem refused to give up. Shouldering and tossing aside the rubble, he unearthed his wife, breath wet and ragged. He dropped to his knees, arguing that she shouldn't have leapt in front of him like that.

Baring her teeth, Gurdis choked, “Told... die protecting... first...” Clem searched for something, anything to stop the bleeding. This wasn't an argument he wanted her to win.

.

Within a candlemark, there was no one to bicker with him anymore.

.

His boots had echoed oddly on the way back from the rough tomb, leading him to a house alien in its emptiness. The still air had never driven him mad before. When it proved too much, he found his hand on his axe and his foot out the door. Days and nights, he dug. Whispered “I told you so”s and the shriek of steel on stone following him through the caverns. It was just as well. Dwarves never mined new areas alone.

Excavation later ferreted out the truth. Hidden beneath Nalesha's layers was the emblem of a cunning spider, denoting a dedication to malevolent forces. Whatever her sinister plot, it had been foiled by Gurdis' discovery and Clem's axe. But he was inconsolable. He should've realized it was odd of a self-proclaimed druid to only commune with spiders. That Elliot didn't know a lick about anything other than rock and earth. He should've decided, this time, to refuse this retrieval job. But he hadn't. Taking out the one responsible had brought little comfort to the grieving dwarf. Carving and polishing Gurdis' grave marker brought no relief. Asking why us, why her, why not me did little good.

Finally, Clem packed what little was necessary, and left.

.

Squinting against the blizzard, the dwarf trudged through an alien, wintery land. Ice and snow stretched across the land, smooth and unbroken. It brought no comfort.

“I won't, be defeated,” Ameles shot back. His spines were growing more pronounced now. Hyme deduced the prickly personality grew with them.

“Defeat can be as simple, as being surprised.”

The other mantis bowed his head. “Our, apologies, sister. It wasn't our, intention to worry you. Ameles, let's return, to our rooms for the time being.” No doubt Creo had been dragged here for an impromptu sparring session. He always was reluctant to train. Dangerous, in these times.

Rather put out, Ameles turned an accusing claw her way. “Aren't you supposed to be, preparing for the ceremony?”

“I was.” Now both pairs of Hyme's arms were crossed. “Until a servant informed me, my only living brothers were in the garden, woefully unprotected. Playing.”

A hiss exploded from him. “This isn't play!” He snatched the branch from the ground, threatening her attire with its rough bark. “I can't improve, unless I train! Yet training has been put on hold, for your ceremony! Which we are unable, to attend!”

“I understand your frustrations—” When Ameles interrupted with another hiss, she held up a hand and repeated herself. “I understand your frustrations. But, this is a meeting of, the Ladies. You must remain, outside.”

“Yet we can't be outdoors before,” he bit out. His head turned, shouting at their brother. “Creo, he doesn't care in the slightest!” His protests were drowned out by Ameles' anger. “He would rather, read his books, while the rest of our House falls around him!”

“Ameles.”

“Hyme,” he shot back. Shing. Ameles froze once more, a blade pressed against his throat. His antenna dipped. Meeting his sister's gaze, he fell silent at last.

Hyme didn't relish pulling rank on her own family. There were so few of them left. But this attitude of his would end with his head rolling across the ground. The Ladies were not to be trifled with, and her goal was to join them. She had to instill this respect into him now. For his own safety. “You will address me without disrespect, in the future.” She leaned until her antennae brushed his. His training kept the rest of him still, but there, she found a faint tremble. “You will keep your head.”

An explosive hiss left her, sending Ameles skittering backwards. Creo fell back as well, pressed against a fence encasing scattered white blooms. He was always so adverse to fighting. She was surprised he hadn't tried to learn how to blend into them and disappear. Sometimes, she worried he would. Either by his own hand, or someone else's. The latter was how they'd lost the rest of their family. It was only the three of them, now.

Straightening, Hyme took ample time to examine the fabric of her clothing, enlisting Creo's help for her back. He knew not to lie to her. But it was as she hoped: No fraying thread, no tears, no blemishes. Her antennae tapped together. Good. The ceremony was as harsh as these clothes were delicate. She ordered her brothers to accompany her and remove any threatening obstacles. It provided Ameles with an outlet. Besides, she wanted them both to remain close. Better to be in danger closer to her than farther. She had to keep her wits about her and surpass the council's expectations, if she wanted to earn the spot their mother had lost. And she would earn that spot.

To say Hyme was nervous wouldn't be a lie. She knew others had died trying to take her mother's seat. But that was why she had to succeed now. There was no time to waste.

The garden vanished behind the ornate doors of House Mantis. Servants stepped aside and bowed within doorways, tall and thin as their masters. Hyme paid the stick-bugs no mind. Not today. The siblings climbed stairs with graceful urgency. Flight would risk my attire. Regardless, they made good time. It had been wise of her to search for them when she did. The final stretch of their journey took them down a long plush carpet in the heart of the building. At the hallway's center stood two large, dark doors. The wood was carved with the likenesses of the first Ladies of the House, regal and imposing.

Hyme had once asked their mother what was behind those doors. Much younger then, she had imagined a large table behind which the Ladies sat to discuss matters with visitors. She hadn't realized the exclusivity of the council room. Whatever her mother had answered hadn't stuck in her mind. She supposed it didn't matter, now. I've been in there once before, to stake my claim.

“...sister.” The whisper came from Creo, who hovered dangerously close to her arm. “What... lies within?”

She didn't turn. Her gaze seemed transfixed by the door's design, but truly she was remembering what lied behind it. A dark room, a ring of tall figures, a vanishing door. She knew saying such a thing would frighten him. It was also information she wasn't allowed to share. Whether she lived or died, her brothers would never know what was inside.

Hyme ordered them to position themselves out of sight of the door. Then, she carefully pressed her claws against their elbows, prompting both to arm themselves. Now they looked more the part of her bodyguards. I mustn't fail them. She clicked until they stood at attention. Creo's pale exoskeleton certainly stood out amongst the House's normal browns and greens. Ameles, conversely, seemed a natural addition to the guards. They were lords in their own right. And from this day forward, they would both be her protection, as well as under her protection.

There was the sound of wood sliding out of place. The large doors swung open agonizingly slow. From her peripherals, Hyme saw her brothers didn't flinch or attempt to peer inside. She was proud. Nobody moved until the way was finally open and the hall fell silent once more. Her brothers sheathed their weapons to stand at attention. Lifting her head, her even stride brought her through this doorway for the second, and possibly last, time of her life.

She would not fail.