For the first round of the 2020 NYCMidnight Short Story Contest, I received the following assignment: a fantasy story, a jeweler, and couples counseling. The story had to be 2,500 words or less, and I only had a week to write it. (Each round decreases in time and word count.) “Miracles” placed third out of about twenty-five or so writers, moving me on to the second round. For more information about NYCMidnight, click here.
The enchanted firelight, snapping with white and sapphire sparks, illuminated the entire cave. It was not a dark and shadowy pit under the earth, but a light and airy stone room in a series near the peak of a mountain. Wide, uneven windows cut into the curved and flowing space, revealing chunks of sky. Ornate pillars, hand-carved with scrollwork and dancing fairies, showed the work of an artist. Neat boxes and shelves fitted neatly into the smooth stone, the mark of a man who had lived there for a long time. The man in question lounged in a comfortable chair in front of the fire, a book splayed on his lap. He appeared to be an ordinary peasant, with straw-colored hair, cotton clothes, a plain wedding ring, and worn leather boots. He seemed unaware of the elf standing in the entrance.
Now the man raised his head and measured the visitor in his doorway. The elf was tall, his midnight violet skin gleaming with the light of stars. A Nightsatin elf, and even without the glittering royal crest encrusting his delicate ears, Teth knew who he was. “Your Highness. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
The elf ignored the dribble of blood on his cheek, the misty coat of ashes on his clothes, and approached the jeweler. “I have come to beg a boon. I have heard of your legendary skill, the skill no magic-bearing creature except the dragons possess. I have scaled Barbola Mountain, I have crossed the river of fire, I have risked the wrath of the mighty dragon Esfir who keeps you in chains-”
“Do I look like I’m in chains to you?” Teth demanded. He hated visitors. Most of the time. “I know what you had to do to get here. You’re lucky Esfir is napping. What do you want?”
The prince blinked, unused to being spoken to in such a manner. “A magic ring. One that can restore the happiness of my marriage.”
There it was: the spilled wish of every individual who sought him out for help, the confession of what was wrong in his life, and how he hoped Teth would fix it with a miracle.
His annoyance quieting, Teth set his book aside and studied Prince Maeir. One of the minor princes, if Teth remembered correctly, and he thought he remembered the scandalous story of the marriage. The jeweler rose and held out a gloved hand for the prince’s ring. Teth turned it over, examining it at his table. It was a dark silver, impure, and held a circular amethyst at its center. Pinpricks of starlight dotted the band.
At last Teth spoke. “Tell me about your wife.”
Hope shone in the crystal light eyes. “So you’ll do it?’
Teth merely repeated his request.
“Irina is human,” Maeir began. “Everyone was against it. My father, he told me I would tire of her before her lifetime ended, that there was a reason a marriage such as this were…. frowned upon.”
Teth fixed an appraising stare upon Maeir, who flushed plum and raised his chin. “Did you tire of Irina?”
“No!” echoed in the cavernous workspace. “No. I fear she is tiring of me.” The prince’s sonorous voice cracked, and he shifted his weight. Quite a predicament, Teth thought. A flighty, unpredictable human girl becoming bored with a powerful Nightsatin prince? Unheard of.
Teth settled on his work bench as he listened to their history poured out like water from a vase. How Maeir had been collecting moonlight when he noticed a young woman sitting on the cliff, staring into the ocean. Curious, Maeir had gone over to her, and that had been the end of it for him, although it had taken a skirmish with the Sunshadow Elves, the replanting of a fairy glen, and regular traveling around Valora before he finally admitted his feelings for her.
Still listening, Teth put on glasses, and he sorted through the chest of treasures before him: flakes of a mermaid scale, chips of colored glass, rubies and diamonds and sapphires the sizes of fairy eggs and bumblebees, ribbons of silver, gold, copper, nickel, bronze.
Love vibrated in Maeir’s eyes, his voice, even his skin. Irina, Teth mused, must be quite a woman to capture the heart of an icy Nightsatin elf. He understood.
“I want another child,” Maeir continued, surprising Teth. “I haven’t told Irina. I know she loves Taeriel, of course she does. I just don’t know if Irina’s happy. I think she misses her home. We’re not by the beach. She loves the beach. It’s her favorite place. We stay in Silvestra most of the time, and-” Maeir realized the jeweler was working. He snapped his mouth shut.
Teth selected a hair-thin strand of copper and began to thread it through the silver ring. “I have learned many things from the dragons,” Teth mused. “Not just the renowned skill you seek. Dragons, too, have relationship problems much like yours, and-”
Maeir laughed, his skepticism apparent. “Dragons have relationships. Sure.”
“Of course. Do not tell me you are so ignorant in your own world, Prince.” Maeir’s ears twitched as he glared at Teth, but he remained quiet.
“Dragons are temperamental beings, but they love fiercely. Naturally, fights and disagreements occur over such a long lifespan, and over time, they have developed a solution.”
“What do they do?”
“They call it lorem caritate,” Teth said as he set down the tool and selected a different set of pliers. “It’s not exact, but a rough translation is ‘counsel of the couples.’ Or much simpler, ‘couples counseling.’”
“Couples counseling.”
“Yes. Often a third party becomes involved as a negotiator, to listen and to help the dragons better communicate and work on the true problem underneath the surface. Not the shallow soot lying on top.”
Maeir’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious. Letting in a third dragon to talk about their problems.”
“I didn’t say it had to be a dragon.”
Maeir considered this, gazing at Teth with more respect before finally shaking his head in disbelief. “But still, sharing their problems with someone else?”
“Ah, but that is your pride speaking,” said Teth, cleaning a magnifying glass. “Pride is an easy armor. It hosts our rage, protects our hearts, and often blocks the healing and forgiveness.”
“Dragons have more pride than anyone,” protested the Nightsatin elf.
Teth shook his head. “You mistake pride for dignity. It is a common mistake to make, Your Highness.”
The prince looked like he wanted to argue, but he said nothing. Inwardly, Teth smiled. He remembered what it was like to be an impetuous young man, full of love and despair and fight and pride, and what it had been like to lose it all except what mattered most. Except the love of his life. Nothing mattered when your love was on the line. Not pride, not anger.
“It is my advice you try the path of lorem caritate,” said Teth. “All it requires is the willingness to be open, to speak freely, to listen, and to love one another. The ring may or may not help.”
Maeir shook his head. “I’ve heard of the Sword of Flames. The Chalice of Hope. You created them from an ordinary sword, an ordinary cup, and they performed miracles.”
“Let me tell you a story,” Teth said. “If you still want the ring when I am finished, it is yours.”
Maeir nodded, and Teth gestured to a chair carved from the stone wall. Ashes flaked off the elf as he settled himself.
“This was before the Sword of Flames, the Chalice of Hope, and all of my other creations. It was the second item I ever made, and it was for a young man who loved a young woman.”
As he spoke, he worked. The work appeared ordinary enough, Maeir knew. No different than an ordinary jeweler. But somehow, Teth unlocked the properties of a thing, filled it with magic and intent, and let what was meant to be come to life.
“Her name was Ekaterina, which means pure, and she was. Pure of heart and spirit and joy. More than anything, even more than her love for the young man, Ekaterina longed to fly. To have wings of her own. Despite his misgivings, the young man was determined his love should have her wish. Ekaterina and her young man traveled the same path as you: up the Borbola Mountain, past the river of fire, and found me.”
Teth picked up a hammer, wide and flat as a bull’s nose. The ring chimed as he struck it, filling the cave with light and song. Maeir, wide-eyed, watched.
“Ekaterina and her young man, they asked me for a pair of bracelets to turn her arms into wings. She wanted to clap her hands together and watch her arms transform into wings whenever she wished.”
The cave echoed with the bell-like ringing as Teth set the hammer down, and using tongs, plunged the copper-wrapped ring into melted emerald, a stone of love and romance.
“What happened?” Maeir asked in a tight whisper. “Did the bracelets work?”
Teth drew the dripping ring out, letting the excess flow back into the barrel. “Oh, they worked.” He pulled at the warm metal, kneading it like warm bread dough, refolding and reshaping them with glowing gems. “Scalloped gold, studded with garnets and dragon scales and chariote, the stone of transformation. Stunning. She wrapped them around her wrists, and she transformed immediately. She was never able to regain her human shape, for the objects I forge cannot be broken.”
Teth blew on the ring, rainbow steam drifting from it. “I watched her launch into the sky from this very mountain. Forever changed.”
Maeir licked his lips. “What about the young man?”
“Devastated,” Teth said simply. “Destroyed. Absolutely loathed me, of course, and quite understandable. I was still learning, and perhaps I made some mistakes. But magic is raw and wild, and it does not like to be controlled. It wants to mix and meld and be let free. I do not know… I wonder, sometimes. I do not know if it was possible to give Ekaterina and her lover what they wished.”
Teth placed the ring on an iron hand cast. “There. It is finished. Do not touch.”
It was without question an enchanted ring, done by no other than Teth. No one caught in its shining green aura could fail to know of its creator. Rose quartz the size of poppy seeds clustered around the dark purple amethyst. Carnelian, citrine, and lapis lazuli glistened like snowflakes as they nestled in the braided pattern of copper and emerald.
A sunset caught in a melting rainbow sky. The magic of each gem, each stone, each metal, hummed and sang, a symphony of new magic. A ring of love and freedom and wishes and just maybe, a miracle.
“It’s beautiful,” breathed Maeir. “And it will restore our happiness?”
“It will help your wife find what she needs,” Teth answered, disappointed in the question. “As to what that is, I cannot tell you.”
The prince’s eyes were inflamed with fury. “This is not what I asked you to make.”
“No one tells me what to make,” replied the jeweler. “And even then, magic has its own will. Will you take it or not? You have come such a long way for it, I know, and you do not want to leave empty-handed. But if you think carefully of what I have told you, you will not.”
“Teth, Creator of Miracles,” murmured Maeir, as he stared at the glittering jewelry. “Did you know that’s what they call you throughout Valora?”
The nickname itched at Teth. What he considered his truest miracle was not a piece of jewelry he had enchanted. “You dawdle, Prince, but the time has come. I know Esfir, the dragon you fear, will not sleep long. I ask again. Will you take it, or will you not?”
The prince drew on a glove. “I love my wife.”
Teth nodded, his heart heavy.
Maeir’s hand went to his purse, but Teth shook his head. “You have already paid. You have sacrificed much to be here, and magic often demands its own payment. You owe me nothing. Take the ring, and best of luck and good health to you and yours.”
The prince repeated the blessing, and he vanished through the maze of caves, leaving behind a shaft of moonlight in his wake.
“Well, that was amusing,” purred a voice of icicles and ocean waves and the crunch of broken seashells. “Do you think he’ll give it to her?”
Teth did not react as the ice-white dragon rested her snout in one of the wide cavern openings, the rest of her body still curled on the ledge beneath. Her scales sparkled like diamonds in the enchanted firelight, reminding Teth once again of the stars she had been renamed for.
“If he were wise, he would try lorem caritate first, and the ring second. It’s possible. If he loves her more than anything, as he claims, then there’s a chance. You’ve seen what lorem caritate can do firsthand.”
“As have you,” Esfir reminded him. “About that. Must you give away so many of our little secrets?”
“I wish more people knew about it.” Teth cleaned his tools and arranged them in their rightful places. “Besides, if you truly minded him knowing, he would never have left this cave alive.”
Esfir cast a baleful eye at him. “Maybe I should eat you instead.”
Teth smiled, unafraid, and joined her at the window she had carved out decades ago. “If only humans didn’t give you heartburn and conscience pangs.”
The dragon snorted. “If I ate you, I would have no conscience left.” As they laughed together, the sound of love and contentment and miracles, the dragon shifted, raised her elbows to the ledge, and rested her head upon her long, scaled arms.
Encircling her pure white wrists were two golden bracelets.
