Scarburg Meadhall

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwemer laughed heartily. This young Kara had a knack for cutting to the heart of a matter. She would make a fair partner for any man, or even a worthy helper for a wizard - if he ever wanted one - but that was another thing altogether.

"As you have guessed," he said with a growing twinkle in his eye, "mine is dweomercraft as you Eorlings call it. Thus my name among you. 'Old wizard man'. I am not one of those who came over sea to vie with the power that is no more in Mordor. I am but an old man who has learned his craft at the feet of wise men. Mithrandir had his fire, Saruman his iron and wheels, Radagast his beasts. I have but the earth at our feet and the water in the ground, and the air that we breathe. Humble and simple things, of course, but ready to hand and useful in a pinch. For instance-"

He bent down to the ground and touched it with one finger. He glanced up at the ring finger on Kara's hand, then drew from the earth a small circlet of gold. He handed it to Erbrand.

"For the future, should it turn out well, my good man." Then he looked at Kara again, whose face was beaming even as she held her peace.

"But something should be done for the present!" Eodwemer touched the earth in a different spot where he discerned that an unopened seed which had slept through spring and lay waiting to pass through yet another winter. Let its spring be now. thought the old man. A daisy sprang up from the ground and blossomed before their eyes.

Eodwemer rose again and smiled. "Yes, Erbrand, I suppose I might be of use for a little while."