Chronicles of the Overworld Book 1 — Nihal of the Land of the Wind by Licia Troisi Page B

this mounted on it?”
    Livon agreed. During Nihal’s absence, he’d spent some time thinking about their relationship. It was clear that Nihal was beginning to grow up. It didn’t seem right to clip her wings just because he wanted her by his side. Until then, he’d always followed his instinct, but he vividly remembered his own youthful desire for freedom and the clashes he’d had with his own father because of it. He understood now that he had to let Nihal make her own choices and watch her flight from a distance, always ready to support her when there were problems, ready to catch her if she fell.
    He wanted to show Nihal that he was ready to let her grow. He couldn’t think of a better way to do so than making her a sword.

    Livon took his time. He wanted to create an extraordinary sword, one that would never abandon Nihal and that would always make her think of him.
    It just so happened that one of his suppliers, a cunning dwarf with a keen business sense, sold him a big block of black crystal for a reasonable price. Black crystal was the hardest material in the entire Overworld. It could be found only in the Land of Rocks, and the Tyrant’s Fortress itself was made of it. Livon had never worked with it, but he knew the technique, and he liked the idea of a black sword. All that was left to do was come up with the right design.
    The armorer thought about Nihal—her character and the things she liked—and decided to make a sword with an image of a dragon, which struck him as the best animal by far to represent his daughter’s spirit. Besides, Nihal admired knights, and the Dragon Knights were the most powerful of all the knights in the Overworld.
    The sword began to take shape in his mind. He worked for a long time, mostly at night so that he could surprise Nihal. He spent hours, chisel in hand, sweating over the chunk of black stone. He took advantage of every moment Nihal was out, to the point that he started neglecting his work and his clients began to complain.
    “You’ve become such a slouch!” Nihal teased. But then she grew serious. “Do you need help, Pop?”
    Livon shook his head and replied that a certain project required all his attention. He couldn’t tell her that it was for her and he couldn’t think of a better excuse.
    All armorers, all artisans, all artists look forward to a creative moment like the one he was experiencing as he saw the sword come to life.
    The crystal sword would be his masterpiece.

    Then, one morning, Livon called Nihal. He wore the strained expression of someone who had been up all night. His coverall was filthy.
    “Are you OK?” Nihal asked, worried.
    “I’ve never felt better. This is one of the best moments in my life,” said Livon as he handed her a leather-wrapped package.
    Its contents took Nihal’s breath away. The long black sword sparkled in the clear light of morning. It was as shiny and translucent as glass. Its flat blade, as sharp as a razor, narrowed toward the hilt, around which a dragon wrapped itself. The dragon’s white head—the Tear—rose up out of the black stone. The animal’s jaws were opened wide, as were its great wings, which stretched out toward the sides of the blade. Livon had paid such attention to detail that the creature’s very veins were visible; the wings were so thin as to be transparent.
    It was a breathtaking weapon. Nihal didn’t dare touch it. Livon had created many beautiful objects, but this was a true work of art.
    “You asked for a sword. Here it is. This isn’t a toy. It’s your sword. As I made it, I thought of you. It’s a weapon that can defend and attack. A real weapon for a real warrior.” Livon smiled and Nihal looked at him with shining eyes. “Go on, the least you can do is pick it up!”
    When Nihal finally lifted it, she was amazed by the way it fit her hand. It was so light and manageable.
    Livon laughed. “Come on, it’s not made of glass! That’s black crystal, the hardest material known.