Courage is Beardless

By Andi J.Feron

Zinnia and her best friend Bogumuth have never fit into elven society. As a half-elf and a beardless house dwarf, they are denied acceptance by most of their village. When the loss of magic starts to unravel their world, Zinnia and Bog are the only ones willing to save it.

 

However, saving the world is only the beginning as it starts a chain of events that sets up the biggest adventure of their lives. They will fight mythological beasts, form unusual alliances, and discover that sometimes courage is found in the most unexpected places.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Unchained Imagination Publishing LLC
• Release date: Feb 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9781951802189

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Death of Magic

Bogmuth Latterborn, or Bog as I called him, evicted every scrap of dirt from my house, and we set off to leave the village. He placed his orange cap over his wavy brown hair that stopped right below his ears. He had a nose with a bump from where he’d broken it a time or two. His golden, round eyes held a lot of soul. As a beardless dwarf Bog’s strong jaw suited him well. He had what others considered an average appearance, but never put much effort into his looks. He had much more important things to do, like worrying about curses and bullies.

Three elf boys rounded the corner of the butcher’s shop and picked up stones that helped decorate the flower boxes. They flung them at Bog, and he yelped when one hit his shoulder. I picked the rocks up and flung them right back. They cursed my accurate aim and followed those up with a few Bog’s way. Bog frequently lamented about how often we were cursed, but curses had nothing on my stubbornness and determination.

We continued toward the village outskirts, and the stable keeper spit on Bog’s boot. Zinnia Floriathim! The nerve of you letting your house dwarf walk free like that. No chains on his wrists and ankles is entirely improper when he’s out and about. He could bite someone. Not that you’re proper in any other way. She spit on Bog’s boot again.

I stepped between my friend, and the stable keeper. I suggest you stop spitting at Bog, or I’ll be the one to bite! And call me, Zin!

She gaped and put her hand on her hip. I never! Your grandfather is going to receive a complaint about this.

Like he’s unaware that I misbehave!

She stormed off to the circle where my grandfather served as village leader.

Bog lowered his head. You shouldn’t draw so much attention to yourself. If you tried to follow the rules, people would leave you alone.

I rolled my eyes. Zinnia, put your head jewel at the right place on your head. Zinnia, eat your porridge slower. Zinnia, obey all one thousand forty-three rules for being a proper Elvish maiden. Like anyone has any time for that. Even so my half-human, misshapen ears and plainness make me stand out no matter what I do.

Bog shook his head. There is nothing plain about you. Not a thing. You bring trouble for yourself by hanging out with me. I’m nothing but a too-short, beardless dwarf. I can’t even reach the height of an elven sword. It’s a disgrace. I would say we should disregard our friendship for societal acceptance, but you would get yourself in danger, and then I'd have to go on living with that.

I laughed. You're saying you love me more than you want to be accepted? That means you love me a whole lot since being accepted is your one life's desire.

We made it to the end of the village, ignoring the ten more curses sent our way. Well, I ignored them while Bog cringed at each one.

Lark! I blew air between my fingers, sending a whistle through the wind.

A glorious dragon with scales white as the cotton spun at the mill swooped between the canopy of gold leaves. The blue of her eyes blended with the sky. Her tribe had rejected her because of her snowy scales. I thought they made her more magnificent than the greens and oranges of the other dragons. She lived alone until Bog and I found her in a cave one day. Dragons never faired well alone, and I made keeping her company a priority.

Lark tipped her head to the side, allowing me to propel myself onto her back using one of two spiraled horns that sprouted from her head. I yanked Bog up in front of me, and he grasped tightly to her horns until his hands paled.

Lark flew us above the blue wooded trees, and the golden leaves shimmered against the rays of sunlight. The river curved in every direction helping magic flow equally throughout the land which fed the dragons, leviathans, and pterippi. The fairies saw some benefits as well, and that helped them bring forth seasons for crop regulation.

Look in the poppy field, in the middle. Bog pointed at a blackened spot that blistered next to the yellow and pink of the rest of the field.

Lark, take us down for a better look.

Lark swooped down, and the field looked as though someone struck a torch to it and allowed it to burn outward. I touched a charred poppy, and it crumbled to ash. Dragon's fire burned too powerful to leave anything behind which made this event an oddity. With no obvious explanation, my curiosity dwindled, and I had Lark return us to the skies. As I twirled through the clouds, I missed how close the sun dipped to the horizon.

I tiptoed into my house, hoping to make it to my room without notice. I made it my goal to avoid the lecture my tardiness usually evoked from my grandfather. I removed my shoes and felt a chill run through my feet as I touched the grey stone.

Where do you think you are headed, Zinnia? Grandfather caught me trying to slip past the archway of our dining hall.

Sorry, Grandfather. I lost track of time.

She can't help herself. The human side of her brain makes her a nitwit, my cousin Lauritha said.

Lauritha, I suggest you forbid your speech lest you find yourself in the same boil as Zinnia now does.

Sorry, Grandfather. Lauritha bowed her head and returned to her dinner.

Grandfather motioned me to the table. Our dinner spread across a white stone table with four large rubies on each of the four sides. I found it difficult to pull my stone chair out as I lacked the elven strength of the rest of my family. I took the time to eat my porridge the proper way as to not kindle the anger of the patriarch further.

My three uncles, two Aunts, and seven cousins sat around the table. My grandmother had gone to the valley of the dead sixteen years ago when I first lived. My mother sat next to me, and she turned no looks my way. She'd endured my disappointments regularly and no longer discussed any misdeeds I performed.

The monotony of eating porridge at the rate of an elf left me exhausted, but I found relief when a loud thud hit our silver front door. Our other house dwarf, Vauslor, answered, and two elders stood at the door. My grandfather led them into another room, and they were gone long enough for me to slurp down my porridge. When they emerged, Grandfather notified us the elders had called a meeting for all who resided in the village. We journeyed to the outdoor theater, where important discussions took place. In the middle, the elders faced the crowd, and the rest of the villagers sat on blue logs that formed organized rows.

A third of my crops are thoroughly scorched and not by dragon's fire. Also, there is no evidence of any presence entering or leaving my fields, a villager said.

Three other elves told similar tales of livelihoods threatened by a mysterious fire that burned from the middle outward.

One of the villagers stood to speak. The barrier to the human world must be leaking,

Gasps and the clatter of villagers' voices filled the air of the theater.

What makes you believe this true? Grandfather asked.

When the barrier has a leak, magic seeps out of our land, bringing destruction and desolation. Random spots are depleted. What we must fear is the widening of the tear. We will lose all magic before the damage is mended. If this occurs, none will survive.

Grandfather stayed silent for a moment before deciding. We must put together a team to figure out the breach.

The origin of the tear might be on the human side. Any living creature who crosses the barrier will vanish once away from magic.

I raised my hand. I can do this. I am half-human and should be able to survive in the human world.

This is foolishness. It is likely you could survive for a short time, but in order to seal the barrier, you would likely remain stuck in the human world, Grandfather said.

I am the best hope.

Her half breed status makes her a halfwit, another elf hollered.

Several other elves chimed in with similar sentiments. The elders asked for seclusion while they made their decision. The elders sent out a portal fairy to locate the tear so we wouldn't have to search all our lands. The portal fairy could instantaneously appear wherever she willed in the magic lands.

I thought it unfortunate she couldn't create larger portals to assist the travel of others. She discovered a tear on the southern end, and the portion that needed to be sealed was on the human side as feared. If we were only to seal our side, it was likely that whatever caused the tear would reopen it.

I was deemed the most reasonable choice and went home to prepare. I believed most of the elders were quick to agree because they saw me as a nuisance to the village. Bog begged me not to go, but I told him it was a necessity. I further told him my courage would see me through. Bog said he couldn’t relate because being a beardless dwarf, he could never gain much courage. Common knowledge said that a dwarf's courage came from their beard.

My mother bit her lip. I think this quest is void of thought. 

I hugged her goodbye. It must be done.

 She said nothing back and handed me a week's worth of rations. If necessary, I could survive on the plants of the forest, but it would be nice having my mother's food for comfort. I braided my long brown hair, and my mother refused to let me leave without my head jewel. She said only a fool would leave without one. Mystics had charmed the jewel to keep me safe, but I believed it complete nonsense. I stepped out of my house to find Bog with a satchel draped across his shoulder.

Bog, why are you looking ready for travel? I asked with a laugh.

I very well can't let you trek across all the lands without me at your side.

What happened to your lack of courage?

I believe I may have a stubble or two that contains a few fragments.

Very well, your company will speed the endeavor.

Lauritha cackled. A half breed elf, a beardless dwarf, and I'm sure you will add that deformed dragon to your list of misfits. Good fortune even making it beyond the red bark forest.

Silence, Lauritha! Grandfather chided. He put a pendant around my neck, which I promptly tucked in my shirt. This will allow you to cut through anything which may help you if run into some sneaky river creatures. May it prosper your journey with success, he added.

Chapter 2

The Entanglement of Algae

Bog and I walked to the field. I whistled for Lark. When she arrived, I told her of our quest, and she turned south. More charred spots appeared the closer we got to the southern border. The grave state of our land became clearer the farther we trekked. The land was usually full of birds, unicorns, and sprites, but very few appeared as we journeyed. Lark grew tired, and she landed at a cave for the night.

Bog nibbled on a carrot from his garden. What happens if you get to the other side of the barrier, and you evaporate as any good elf would?

I think it's fortunate I'm not a good elf. If I am unable to seal the tear, we eventually will all evaporate. Even you with your cowardly ways.

Yes, cowardly has kept me from the death valleys. Perhaps, if I will die by not helping, the most cowardly thing I can do is assist you, he said.

I think you will find, my dear friend, that you are not as deprived of courage as you are beard.

Even so, my main worry is that you will meet your end because you have the grievance of courage.

Courage is not a grievance, Bog. You are a silly, little dwarf.

It is a grievance if it leads to my fairest friend's death.

I smiled at him. Do not trouble yourself. All will be well.

The look on Bog's face told me he would probably trouble himself through the night, but there was little I could say to remedy his internal conflict. Dragon's scales provided great warmth, and this brought slumber quickly as Bog and I curled up under one of Lark's wings. Three days into our journey, we still had at least four ahead. Lark made our journey less arduous, and for that, I held immense gratitude for her assistance.

Our canteens are nearly empty. We must fill them soon, Bog said midway through our fourth day's journey.

I see a stream over there. Lark, fly us to the shore.

This stream contained glimmers of opal stones that gave a colorful shine to the river. Round silver leaves topped the red bark of the trees. I stooped down and cupped my hands into the water. The river had a smoothness that caused me to view it purer than the water of home. I filled my three canteens, and Bog did the same. A soft giggle rippled from the water, and I glanced around for the source. When I was unable to locate the origin of the laughter, I turned to load my water onto Lark's back.

Bog, where did Lark go? I scanned the area, unable to see even a sliver of white against the red bark of the forest.

Bog quit drinking from the stream and rapidly scanned our surroundings. How could an enormous dragon vanish?

I didn't have an answer, and the giggling returned louder with more voices joining. Bog and I covered our ears as the volume became too much to handle. A creature more beautiful than a high elf appeared in front of us. Spiked fish scales covered her legs, and her pink top covered her upper chest. Her black hair held a greenish tint and extended the length of her body. I recognized her as a Naiad, a water nymph, and knew the deadly poison her scales seeped. More naiads were sure to be looming in the river and behind the trees.

I have stolen your dragon. Her voice emitted as a loud whisper, almost as if the wind carried her words.

I clenched my fists. Give her back!

The naiad giggled, and several other invisible ones joined her.

Giving her back is not fun. Her scales will make us beautiful houses.

We need her. We are on a quest to seal the tear from the human side of the realm. Have you seen burnt plants, fewer unicorns roaming the fields, and the skies lessened of pterippi and dragons?

We have noticed, but we do not care. Less to consume our stream.

If the tear grows or is even allowed to leak further, our realm will evaporate, and you will have no stream to protect, I said.

We think you would say whatever to have your dragon returned. In the spirit of fun, we will allow you to free your dragon. This will most likely result in your drowning, but that will make merriment to watch.

The naiads giggled. The visible naiad explained that they'd trapped Lark in an underwater cavern. The vines of the naiad algae kept her securely captive. My appointed task involved swimming to the cavern to free her. If I accomplished her release, we were free to go.

This is idiocy. No one can free themselves or any other from naiad algae. It is an impossibility. Bog told me after I agreed to the terms.

Very little is truly impossible, Bog. This is something you must learn, and I will show you. Lark has an hour, maybe a bit more before she drowns.

You have ten minutes and not the thirty of a normal elf. Your breathing will not hold beyond that.

Ten minutes is all I need, you will see. Besides, they are giving me three dives, which in reality will give me the thirty of a normal elf. On top of that, my grandfather gave me a secret weapon.

Bog shook his head as I dove into the clear water and swam downward. Once at the bottom, I looked on all sides for the cavern. I neared the end of my first ten minutes and had to resurface. The second dive I swam to the east because I noticed the water growing warmer,