Katava entered the kitchens, the warm, comforting scent of freshly baked bread filling the air. She treasured these brief moments of tranquility, when the smell of bread and meats would make her mouth water. The massive stone oven glowed at the back of the room, casting an amber light that danced off the polished copper pots and pans that hung from the ceiling. A pot of water bubbled gently on a small brazier, and a thin wisp of steam rose from it. There was a faint scent of herbs wafting from it as she passed. She admired the desserts she had made, a small smile touching her lips as she reached for a delicate honey cake, its surface a golden-brown with a glistening glaze.

  But before her fingers could touch the cake, a harsh, grating voice caught her attention.

  Bolton, his stocky frame silhouetted in the doorway, stood with two other young dwarves, blocking the exit. His face was a mask of sneering contempt, but his eyes, usually just filled with casual disdain, now held a glint of genuine malice that sent an immediate shiver down Katava's spine.

  "Oi, Troll Bait!" Bolton sneered, his voice thick with contempt as he stepped closer. His heavy boots clomped loudly on the stone floor in the quiet kitchen. "Why don't ye be useful fer once and jump in the oven?" He gestured with his chin to the roaring inferno within the massive stone oven as he took another step closer. "Or maybe ye need a bit of help," he said coldly.

  Katava's heart pounded like a drum against her ribs. She had faced Bolton's cruelty for years, enduring the names and the shoves, but this felt different. This wasn't just a threat; it was a promise. She tried to remain calm, to hide the tremor in her hands, but her fear was a palpable thing, a scent he seemed to relish. Bolton grinned, a nasty, triumphant curl of his lip. "What's the matter, troll bait?" he taunted, stepping closer. "Think I'm gonna hurt ye?"

  Before she could react, he lunged, grabbing her wrist. His grip was cold and unrelenting, a stark contrast to the heat of the ovens. The pressure of his fingers was like iron bands around her wrist as his grip tightened. Katava cried out, a sharp sound that was swallowed by the roar of the oven behind her. She pulled with all her might, but the dwarf held fast. Bolton laughed, a harsh sound that echoed through the kitchen as he began to drag her towards the fiery maw of the oven. Inch by agonizing inch, Katava's feet drug closer to the heat of the roaring fire. Her mind raced to the very real possibility that she would be burned alive, and Ontrose would never know what happened to her.

  In that terrifying moment, as she truly believed she was about to die, something snapped in Katava's mind. Her thoughts of Ontrose faded as twenty years of suppressed rage, of swallowed insults and unreturned shoves, washed over her in a blinding wave. Her body tensed, the wave of rage feeling like a physical vibration throughout her entire body. Then, a voice thundered in her mind. 'WAKE UP!'

  Katava stood tall as she stopped struggling and began moving with a strength that confused the dwarf attached to her wrist. Her body seemed to move on its own now, her gaze landing on Bolton, as if she were being controlled by an unseen force. Her free hand clenched into a fist and punched directly into the roaring flames of the oven. As the fire roared around her fist, she felt no pain. Only a building power within her. Bolton's eyes widened as Katava's narrowed with a ferocity he had never seen before, locked directly on the shocked dwarf's. The emerald glow of her eyes burned into his mind as he tried to process what was happening.

  Time seemed to slow to a standstill. Katava was aware of everything at once: Bolton's cold grip still on her wrist, the intense energy radiating from the oven, and the sudden shift in the other dwarves’ thoughts. She felt their confidence turn to stark fear, causing her to smile with a confidence she had never felt before. She could feel the subtle resonance of the stone beneath her feet, a pulse passing through it, almost as if reacting to her very presence now. In this moment, she knew she could command the stone around her to swallow the dwarves. She knew she could command every blade in the kitchen too embed themselves into the dwarves. She knew she could command the blood in their bodies to clot or boil. And she knew she could command the flames.

  Katava pulled her clenched fist from the oven. To her astonishment, fire enveloped her hand as it danced harmlessly around her skin. Bolton’s eyes widened further, his face paling with dawning terror as Katava spun her hand in Bolton's grip, grabbing his wrist now. With a strength they all knew she didn't have, she lifted Bolton from the ground, much as Ontrose had done a few years prior. Her face held no expression as she tossed him towards the other two dwarves, again much as Ontrose had done.

  Bolton tried to stand and retreat as he stumbled backward. The other two dwarves, who had been cautiously approaching moments before, froze as they stared at Katava in disbelief. Their taunts and anger were forgotten as they faced the now terrifying human.

  'SHOW THEM WHO WE ARE,' the oddly familiar voice commanded. Much louder now, the voice in her mind radiated with a power that begged to be released.

  Katava faced the three dwarves, her hand still engulfed in a swirling ball of flame, her eyes glowing brightly. A chilling smile slowly spread across her face. She opened her hand, palm up, and the flame began to spin and twist, stretching upwards. It seemed to take a life of its own as it formed the unmistakable shape of a dragon. The small, fiery creature, shimmering with heat, regarded Katava for a brief moment with intelligent eyes before turning its burning attention to the three terrified dwarves.

  With a roar that resonated in their minds, the fire dragon leapt from Katava's hand. It circled the three dwarves like a fiery tornado, its flaming breath scorching their faces and burning their hair.

  The dwarves shrieked, flailing frantically at the flaming apparition. One dwarf, in a desperate attempt to extinguish himself, dove headfirst into a large barrel of water, his lower half dangling from the barrel. But the water was no match for the dragon’s magical flames. The dwarf emerged a moment later, spluttering and screaming louder as the flames continued to burn.

  Truly terrified, the three dwarves scrambled from the kitchen as one, leaving the distinct smell of burnt hair in their frantic wake as they pushed each other through the doorway. Katava stood alone now, watching them flee, as the fire dragon gracefully landed on her shoulder before dissipating into nothingness. Her hand, previously wreathed in flame, was unharmed, not even a trace of soot. Her heart pounded in her chest with a mix of exhilarating power and profound fear.

  The exhilaration was short-lived, however, as she began to fully process what had just happened. The voice was now silent, leaving her alone with a chilling realization: she had just attacked three dwarves. By what she knew of dwarven law, they would come for her. For this, there would be severe punishment. Tears welled up in her eyes now normal eyes, blurring her vision as she ran from the kitchen herself, fleeing to the small home she shared with Ontrose. She knew she had to tell him, and quickly.

  She burst into the small enclave, her face flushed and tears streaming down her cheeks. Ontrose, who was enjoying his second breakfast, looked up, startled. "What's got ye, lass?" he asked, his expression softening instantly at her distress.

  Katava paced frantically, wringing her hands. "I did a terrible thing, Pa!" she sobbed.

  Ontrose stood up, his breakfast forgotten, a sudden tension in his jaw. "What happened?" he asked, his voice low and concerned.

  "Bolton and his goons came to the kitchens," she cried, pulling away from his outstretched hand. "He was plannin' on tossin' me in the oven!"

  Ontrose's blood immediately ran cold. His fists clenched tightly at his sides, a low growl rumbling in his throat, the sound like a rockslide. "I...am going...to kill him," he growled through clenched teeth. He reached for his axe as Katava continued.

  "I dunno how it happened," she said, wiping frantically at her eyes, "but I set their beards on fire with a dragon."

  Ontrose stopped reaching for his axe. His jaw, which had been set in grim anger, softened slightly. He blinked slowly before a bizarre, almost comical expression crossed his face as he stared at Katava. "Ye... ye set their beards on fire with a dragon?" he repeated slowly, as if testing the words. She nodded. A stifled sound escaped him, somewhere between a cough and a guffaw, but it quickly faded as he saw Katava's continued distress. His face hardened again, the anger for Bolton resurfacing. "Whatever happened, I'm knowin' he had it comin'. I warned him about puttin' his hands on ye." His voice was a low, dangerous rumble, all amusement gone.

  "I was so scared. I heard a voice then I put my hand in the oven and pulled out a baby dragon. I think..." She paused for a brief moment, the absurdity of her words hitting her ears. "They're gonna punish me," she cried, despair returning in a moment of clarity.

  Ontrose placed a firm, reassuring hand on her shoulder. His eyes, usually full of mirth, were now hard and resolute. "They'll be goin' through me first," he said, his voice the same low, dangerous rumble. He held her gently at arms length. "Come on, lass. We're talkin' to the king about this. Now."

  Katava took his hand, her tears subsiding slightly, replaced by a surge of relief and gratitude for Ontrose's unwavering support.

  Jenmamuh felt a familiar surge of energy, a resonance he hadn't experienced with such intensity since that powerful awakening about twenty years prior. The raw power vibrated the very air around him, a prickling sensation across his skin that made the fine, silvery hairs on his arms stand on end. He could sense the source, a beacon of psionic energy pulsing like a frantic heartbeat from the mountains to the south. This time, the energy was different: more intense, more focused, all sense of fear gone, and it was…close. Very close. It demanded release, a silent scream across the psychic plane. He focused his mind, pinpointing the source of the awakening to a mountain in the south.

  These mountains were familiar to Jenmamuh. He had spent countless days there with the dwarven kings of old, sharing what he knew of stonework and metalwork, and even providing plans of other subterranean systems. He had helped so much that they had carved his likeness from the first piece of granite that he helped excavate. From what he remembered, it would still be in the throne room. A wry smile touched his lips. He hadn't visited in centuries. Recognizing this mountain range as the home of the Ironhammer clan, Jenmamuh chuckled. The irony of a psionic dwarf, especially one with such raw, untamed power, was not lost on him. With a focused effort, he reached out with his mind, opening a shimmering portal deep within the Ironhammer stronghold. The air crackled as the portal stabilized, a swirling vortex of blues and purples that distorted the stone walls around it.

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Ontrose stormed into the hall, his face etched with fury. Katava followed a few steps, her fear obvious as her pace slowed and her small hands clutched nervously at her tunic. She was roughly ten steps behind Ontrose, her breath catching in her throat as she followed the enraged dwarf. She felt her heart pounding in her chest, afraid it would burst out on its own.

  Immediately after Ontrose passed the only human statue in the kingdom, its familiar, silent gaze seeming to follow him, a shimmering portal materialized in the air between Ontrose and Katava. Startled, she stepped back, her eyes wide. The portal shimmered for a moment, distorting the air as a figure emerged.

  The man stood still, his pale blue eyes adjusting to the dim light. He looked hauntingly familiar, with a face that looked like it was carved from stone. His gaze swept across the chamber in confusion before landing on Katava. She saw his face clearly now, her breath catching. It was the same face on the human statue, the same face and had seen her entire life. He was even more handsome in person, an aura of quiet power radiating from him.

  Before the man could speak, the enraged dwarf’s shoulder crashed into him from behind. The human was hurled forward, the sudden, physical impact stunning him. He did not brace for the stone floor, but thrust his palms out an instant before impact, performing a sudden, effortless pushup. The momentum of the charging dwarf combined with his own sudden upward force was too much for gravity. Instead of falling, his body went airborne, sailing up and over both of them. He flipped through the air with impossible grace, rotating once before his feet touched the cold stone, landing exactly where he had first appeared, near the human statue. He stared at the dwarf with a calm, almost amused expression, the girl momentarily forgotten.

  "Ease yourself, dwarf," he said, his voice smooth and melodious. "I mean you no harm."

  Ontrose was dumbfounded. A human who could fly? It was impossible. "Sorcery!" He yelled, his hand instinctively going to the axe that wasn't there. He tried to charge the man again, but was shocked to find he couldn't run. He looked down at his boots, realizing his feet were not touching the ground. His legs pumped futilely as he tried to charge the man again.

  "Although I am curious about you," the man continued, his eyes scanning Ontrose. "How are you blocking your mind like that?"

  Ontrose growled, his rage finally finding its voice. "What in the blazes are ye about? Let me down so I can give ye a proper thrashin'," he continued in a louder voice.

  The man returned Ontrose's stare, his curiosity intensified. "That's interesting," he said thoughtfully. "But there is no fighting in the audience halls. My apologies as well. My name is Jenmamuh." He pointed to the statue that bore his likeness. "I'm that one," he said, continuing on without giving them time to process his last remark. "I didn't mean to come unannounced, but I think you were calling me, good sir."

  Ontrose's eyes narrowed, suspicion warring with his rage. "I ain't called for any damn human!" he roared.

  In the corner of his eye, Ontrose saw the sting of his words on Katava, her face falling. The man noticed too, his attention turning to the human girl once again, his gaze softening.

  "Allow me to apologize once again, my dear," he said, his voice softening. "Dwarves now are not known for their love of humans. Which makes me more curious about you. How did you get here?" He asked in a soft voice.

  Katava hesitated, her eyes darting between Ontrose and the mysterious man. "I been here all me life," she replied meekly, her hands clutching tighter. "That's me pa ye got there. Please don't hurt him," she added in the same meek voice.

  Jenmamuh's eyes widened in understanding, shock clearly visible on his face. With a thought, he lowered Ontrose back to the ground. He stood still as he extended a hand toward the dwarf. "I'm afraid I must apologize once again, good sir," he said sincerely. "What is your name?"

  The dwarf eyed the man, suspicion still warring with his rage and his desire to protect Katava. "Ontrose," he grunted, reluctantly shaking the man's hand. As he released his hand, a confused yet amused look crossed Jenmamuh's face.

  "Now that is very interesting," Jenmamuh said quietly, his eyes locked on Ontrose's. He turned to Katava and held out his hand. "And you are?"

  Katava gently took his hand before she spoke. As their hands touched, she felt a strange presence spread through her mind, a fleeting sensation that left her speechless.

  Jenmamuh's eyes widened as his mind was flooded with pictures and bits of memories through Katava's eyes, the most vivid of which were the kitchen flames. The images flashed through his mind like a whirlwind as he saw the dwarven stronghold through her eyes. He looked at the two standing before him. "You..." he said, his voice filled with wonder. "Neither of you were meant for the confines of these halls."

  He closed his eyes. With a thought, Jenmamuh opened a dimensional portal once again, a swirling vortex of energy that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Through the portal, they could see a bustling courtyard filled with strange and exotic creatures. Humans, elves, even a gnome wandered the courtyard. The air within the portal seemed to shimmer with a vibrant energy. Jenmamuh opened his eyes and studied Katava and Ontrose’s faces as they stared at the portal, their eyes wide with wonder.

  With another thought, Jenmamuh closed the portal. Katava was about to speak again, but the smell of burnt hair wafted through the air, interrupting her thoughts in a stark reminder of her encounter in the kitchen.

  Ontrose and Katava turned to see Bolton and the two other dwarves, as well as three other male dwarves, all with their faces contorted with rage. Their eyes were fixed on Katava, but soon noticed Ontrose and the other strange human with them.

  Jenmamuh's voice boomed, silencing the dwarves before they could speak. "There is no violence in the king's halls!" he declared, his voice carrying a weight of authority that resonated through the very stones of the hall.

  Stunned, the six dwarves slowly walked past the trio, their anger visibly simmering beneath the surface. Once they had passed, they bolted towards the throne room, their haste betraying their intent.

  "Oh, this should be fun," Jenmamuh said with a slight chuckle. "Please, go on ahead if you'd like. I'll be there in just a moment." Jenmamuh turned to regard his own statue, a masterpiece of dwarven craftsmanship. "Oh, and Katava," he added. "Don't be afraid."

  Katava turned her attention to Ontrose as shouting erupted from the throne room. Ontrose simply nodded, and together they entered the chamber, neither realizing at that moment that Katava had never told Jenmamuh her name.

  The king was furious, his face red with rage as they walked into the throne room. "I been waitin' fer this day," the king said, the anger raising his voice. "I told ye that human wouldn't bother any dwarf, now it's attacked three of me kin," he growled, his gaze fixed on Katava. "Only one kind of good human," the king added icily. "Anythin' to say, Troll Bait?"

  Katava eyed the king warily, her fear evident. "I...I was..." she began, her voice trembling.

  "Defending herself, your majesty," Jenmamuh's voice cut through the room, calm and authoritative. He entered the throne room, his presence filling the chamber. His gaze landed on Bolton, a flicker of amusement crossing his features. "Quite creatively, I might add," he said, his focus on the now beardless dwarf.

  The king, seeing Jenmamuh, stood and descended the throne slowly. To the shock of all the dwarves, he bowed his head to the human. "You're the Guardian, ain't ye?" he asked as he slowly stood. Jenmamuh simply nodded. "I'd hoped to not see ye in me lifetime," the king continued.

  "The time of prophecy has not yet arrived," Jenmamuh said formally. "I'm here for them," he gestured to Ontrose and Katava.

  "Them?" The king said vehemently. "No, I've got somethin' special planned for them two," he said icily.

  Ontrose was trying to assess the situation. The king and six angry dwarves stood against himself and his adopted daughter, a strange human that magically appeared, and his axe hanging uselessly in his small room. He had faith in his own strength, but unarmed against six dwarves, he knew he was outmatched. His loyalty to his own kind weighed heavily against his love for Katava.

  "That won't do," Jenmamuh interrupted, his voice firm. "They will come with me if they wish." His tone left no room for argument. The king just stared at the two humans in his throne room, bewildered.

  "The blazes they will!" Gorick, Bolton's father, cried out. Katava thought it must have been a signal as all six dwarves started to advance towards her as one.

  Before they had taken two steps, and before Ontrose could fully react, the doors to the king's chamber burst inward. Pieces of wood came flying into the throne room, startling everyone except Jenmamuh. He stood, unfazed as the human statue, armed with a staff that it didn't have before, leapt into the room and landed heavily between Katava and the advancing dwarves. Its stone eyes glowed with an inner light, focusing on the six angry dwarves. They stopped short, unsure what to do now. The statue stood completely still, staff in a defensive stance, as if waiting for the dwarves to advance again.

  "Sorcery," one of the dwarves muttered.

  Jenmamuh couldn't help but smile, glancing at Katava. "If you only knew," he said to the dwarf. "I would also suggest backing away, provided you value your limbs," he continued, all mirth in his voice now gone. He intentionally turned his back to the dwarves, focusing now on Katava and Ontrose. "The choice is yours," he said. "You can stay here," he motioned to the dwarves behind him, "and see what the king has in store for you, which isn't pleasant I can assure you. Or I can show you what you're truly capable of." With another thought, he opened the portal to the courtyard they had seen earlier. He glanced back at the king, his eyes holding a trace of anger they hadn't before. "Don't worry. When they're ready, I'm sure we'll return." Without another word, he stepped through, disappearing through the gateway.

  The dwarves, sensing an opportunity with the human gone, tried rushing Katava again. In the blink of an eye, the statue moved, the stone staff spinning fast and connecting with two of the oncoming dwarves, sending them sprawling backward. The staff whistled through the air as another swing caught Bolton directly in the chest, sending him flying into his two companions. The king backed up, stumbling into the steps of his throne.

  Ontrose looked at Katava as the statue jumped after the last standing dwarf. "I'm with ye lass," he said. Katava smiled at him, before turning her attention to the king. He was backing up his throne, his hands empty. She looked back at Ontrose. With a simple nod, she turned and together they walked through the portal, leaving the chaos behind them. The screams and shouts of the dwarves and the king’s angry pronouncements were lost as the portal closed behind them.