Kinderling 11

 "But the world isn't broken."  I replied.  Then I thought about my personal world.  The home I may never be able to return to.  My people, as exasperating as I find them and they, I imagine, find me, they are still my people.  

The old Gorf must have read it on my face.  "The world was broken many years ago young one.  This attack on your village is just the most recent consequence of that breaking, and it is merely a small ripple by comparison to the breaking.  How much do you know of Kinderling history?"

"Some, my father teaches me as much as I'll listen."

"Then you might know that the Kinderlings used to mine the silver that can be found hereabouts and used it to craft the most wonderful of objects.  Those objects and the silver itself was widely sought after across the lands for the silver from this area was known far and wide for it's ability to absorb and hold mystical energies.  Yet due to the breaking, the trade dried up.  The village hasn't seen anyone from outside for many long years."

"You seem well informed for a deep one."  Uncle Zon interjected.

"I keep abreast of the doings on the surface, that is my purpose here."  The Gorf replied.

"So you are a spy?" My father asked.

"Nothing so nefarious as that, my friend.  I merely keep tabs in case there is something that might endanger my people."  The Gorf answered.  "This attack on your village, for instance.  I am eager to set you upon your way so I can write up the report and send it to the lower halls.

"Unfortunately, the Breaking coincided with the schism amongst the Gorf.  Just when our brothers and sisters who had lost faith in Gorphim fled to the surface, the Breaking and fear of it's consequence caused my people to retreat to the Lower Halls. I have often thought that was a mistake.   That we shouldn't have closed ourselves off to our own kind.  Gorphim knows how I've tried and what it cost me to live close to the surface.  I was a fool.  It seems in no time at all those who fled to the surface lost themselves and became savages.  My own wife, nearly a hundred years after coming to live with me still only speaks haltingly, and refuses to learn to read and write.

"You see young one?  That is why I can't return to the Lower Halls.  To them, I have been tainted by my contact with the surface Gorf, and I would never be accepted into Lower Society.  To them, I am just as damaged as the fallen."

"I had heard some Gorf boys talk about the Fallen when I was a boy and played down here.  They would never tell me what it meant, and would chase us out of the caves if we pressed too hard."  Uncle Zon said.

"Yes," The old Gorf replied.  "The Fallen is a bit of a taboo subject amongst the faithful.  We don't like to be reminded of what we could become if we turn away from Gorphim's teachings.

"Ah!  Here we are at the crossroads.  If you follow that path you will find yourselves at the water gate."  I looked around and we were indeed at a place where a couple tunnels converged.  The old Gorf indicated a smaller side passage as the direction we wanted to go.  It felt odd leaving the old Gorf there.  I had a million questions I wanted to ask, and I didn't expect I would ever see him again.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye."  I said.  "Perhaps I could come down and see you again if...  When this is all over."  

"That would be nice, young one."

With that, the old Gorf turned and made his way down another tunnel.  I was sorry to see him go, he was so... almost... Grandfatherly.

"Zon, this path your Gorf friend directed us to, it doesn't look all that nice.  Are you sure it's the way we should go?"  My father asked.

"Tadius, shame on you.  That nice old Gorf showed us the way and now you won't trust him?"  Uncle Zon feigned shock.  I could tell, especially when Uncle Zon gave me a grin and a wink when he thought Father wasn't watching.  I don't think my father caught on.

"Now Zon, that's absolutely not what I meant." Father sputtered defensively.  "I'm not..."

"Yes, yes, I know Tadius." Uncle Zon interrupted.  "I was just kidding you.  To tell you the truth I'm not looking forward to that path.  It's awful dark and dirty, and it looks ill-kept.  Which tells me that it is precisely the path we need to take."

"How's that Zon?"  My father didn't sound convinced.

"Because the Deep Gorf don't go to the surface unless they have to."  Uncle Zon explained.  "Of course their tunnels to the surface would be ill-kept.  And ill-kept tunnel like that is exactly what I have been looking for."

"Smoke." I whispered to my familiar, who had been strangely quiet all this time,  "Is the way safe?"

*"safe as any path dear one"*  and with that, Smoke entered the tunnel ahead of us.

Dear one?  When had Smoke started calling me that?

I followed.  Father and Uncle Zon came after.