Fairy Silk and the Sword's True Owners
Elves and dwarves, now firmly entrenched as fantasy stereotypes, actually share the same roots. Both originated from Western fairy tales. The initial models for the elves and dwarves familiar to modern people were created by the towering literary giant J.R.R. Tolkien. When Tolkien crafted the races of elves and dwarves—no, when he created Legendarium—he drew much inspiration from Norse mythology, including runes, elves, dwarves, and more.
In Norse myths, dwarves were master craftsmen who produced items so exquisite they astonished even the gods. This artisan trait was absorbed into dwarves, solidifying the stereotype of dwarves as a race of skilled artisans.
Long story short, it wasn't all that strange for the fairies before Ian's eyes to bring up weaving.
"We fairies raise silkworms as livestock. We weave cloth infused with the power of the sun and moon from their silk, and we call it jinneungra."
"Jin... what?"
Ian scratched his head at the sudden translation glitch. This wasn't some wuxia novel.
The fairies' imperial tongue had an archaic ring to it.
"Ah, you're talking about fairy silk."
Ingrian pretended to know, and it was a welcome pretense. That was far easier to grasp. It literally meant fairy-woven silk.
"What's that?"
"Just what it sounds like—cloth woven by fairies. It flows with magic."
"Magic?"
"They say it's cool in summer and warm in winter... I've only seen it a few times myself. It's worth its weight in gold, quite literally."
Ingrian explained kindly.
Fairy silk was a fantastical cheat item straight out of a fantasy world. Beautiful, soft, and it protected the wearer from annoying temperature shifts. Naturally, only someone like a king from a prosperous nation could hope to touch such a top-tier luxury item.
And yet, the fairies standing before Ian right now were the very artisans who produced this priceless treasure.
The fairies bowed their heads low.
"When the weather turned foul, we used the sword in your possession to weave our cloth. You may not know this, but that sword was forged long ago by our queen in alliance with great artisans of our kind! Though we once lent it to humans, it is a blade passed down through our race for generations!"
The fairies cried out in unison.
"Please return the sword!"
"Return it!"
"Return it!"
Ian rubbed his temples watching the chorus of fairies. This damn sword came with all sorts of baggage.
# To cut to the chase, Ian had no intention of handing over the sword.
It was a rightful reward for helping Lucy. Whatever use the fairies got out of it was none of his business.
"Nah, not happening."
As Ian made his refusal clear, one fairy timidly protested.
"I-if you're just going to steal our possession like that, we won't stand idly by."
Ian scowled at the protesting fairy.
"Yeah?"
His eagle owl, sensing Ian's irritation, let out a fierce screech.
Cawrk!
"Eeeeek!"
The fairies all slammed their heads to the ground and trembled. Being small, they apparently saw large birds of prey as natural enemies.
"Quiet down. Want more meat if you're bored?"
Ian fed the eagle owl a chunk of meat while slyly gauging the fairies' reactions. They seemed terrified of it. This guy could serve as a handy intimidation tool.
But he had no plans to scare them off immediately. As he'd seen in the fairy queen's tomb, fairies wielded strange powers. No need to provoke them into a desperate fight.
Ian decided to reason with them first.
"One question. Why's a magic sword yours?"
A fairy boldly replied.
"Because it was ours to begin with!"
The fairy's logic went like this: The sword's magic was unstable and might have faded without their care. Like a dead battery, in metaphor. But by using and maintaining it, the fairies claimed practical ownership, even if humans held nominal title.
"But the owner of record is Baron Talian, right? Isn't it?"
"W-well..."
The fairies faltered at Ian's straight talk.
But a clever one piped up.
"The baron's descendants neglected the sword for centuries! Meanwhile, we consistently retrieved it from the tomb and put it to good use!"
"..."
That's theft, you lunatic. Not something to brag about.
"And you still claim ownership of that magic sword?"
Ian got the gist. The humans who never sought it or cared suddenly showed up to reclaim what the fairies had been using. A clash between nominal and de facto ownership. Even modern law would tie itself in knots over this; it wasn't something you could easily side with either party on.
But Ian couldn't back down easily. Why hand over a magic sword he'd rightfully earned to fairies?
"To reiterate, this sword was a gift from the fairy queen to Baron Talian. Naturally, the owner is the baron."
"..."
"Humans pass heirlooms to their descendants—you know that, right? I received ownership rights from the rightful Talian heir. So the sword is mine."
Want your queen's gift back? Take it up with her ghost.
The fairies knew exactly what nerve Ian was hitting, so they hesitated to press further.
"Ugh..."
"But..."
Still, they didn't give up easily. They'd clearly grown attached to using the magic sword.
Right then—
"Enough, all of you!"
A fairy fluttered out from the forest. The others gasped.
"Your Majesty!"
It was the current fairy queen.
The queen shot her subjects a sharp glare, then bowed to Ian in apology.
"My fairies have been rude. I sincerely apologize."
"Wasn't that rude."
Not like they drew blades. All they'd done was show up and throw a tantrum.
Ian wasn't bothered.
"Thank you for saying so."
The queen immediately berated her fairies.
"You lot! How dare you be rude to our benefactor's descendant? Do you think to steal back what a past queen bestowed?"
"But Your Majesty!"
A fairy protested.
"That human isn't the benefactor's heir, and he doesn't need the sword as much as we do!"
"And how would you judge that? Did I ever teach you to act so rashly?"
"...We're sorry, Your Majesty."
The queen turned to Ian with a gentle tone.
"If I may ask, what is your relation to the benefactor?"
"Friends."
"I see. Then, could you introduce me to him?"
Ian caught her drift. She suspected he might be a grave robber pretending friendship with Baron Talian. If so, she'd attack without hesitation.
"Sure, if that's what you want."
Ian sent Belenca to fetch Lucy. She brought not just Lucy, but the priest too—like a medieval package deal.
"You'll need a notary, right?"
Ian briefed Lucy on the situation.
"Got it?"
"Yeah... I just need to prove I'm the real Talian, right?"
The priest promptly produced documents proving Lucy's legitimate barony and the transfer of the magic sword's ownership from the fairy queen to Baron Talian.
The queen inspected them and nodded.
"Undeniably the queen's hand-seal. Authentic."
"So..."
"Yes. The magic sword belongs to Ian here."
The fairy queen declared.
The other fairies couldn't argue now.
But the queen wasn't done.
"On behalf of the fairies, I formally request of Ian."
"What is it?"
"We'd like to borrow your magic sword. Or sell it to us, if you prefer."
Whatever the means, they wanted continued use of it.
"What'll you give me?"
"Jinneungra."
Ingrian and the priest gasped at the queen's offer.
Jinneungra—fairy silk—was something even an imperial duke rarely touched. And she was offering it as payment!
"Ian, what's jinneungra?"
"Dunno. Fairy silk, apparently."
"...What?!"
Lucy, catching up late, yelped in shock. As an imperial noble, she knew fairy silk's value—pricier than an equal weight of gold! Selling it could fund her domain for ages. Ian was set for life. Lucky bastard.
As Lucy envied him—
"Not really keen on lending it out..."
"Why!"
It was the queen she'd yelled at, but Lucy was the one shouting. Ian stared at her, dumbfounded.
"Why're you getting worked up?"
"It's fairy silk! And you're turning it down?"
"Yeah. Just silk, right? Not that curious."
"..."
Lucy was speechless at Ian's nonchalance toward fairy silk as "just silk." Wow... Ian really was a true mage. To her, he seemed utterly mad.
"I'd rather study the magic sword more."
"Wow... you're... seriously... wow..."
To Lucy, Ian looked like a Buddha who'd severed all worldly attachments and attained enlightenment.
But that was her misconception.
To Ian, a former modern man, this world's luxuries held little allure. Cool in summer, warm in winter? Nice. But why not just crank the AC? No AC? Savages.
That was his mental flow. Having known modern comforts, he couldn't fall as hard for fairy silk as a medieval native might. The magic sword was far more intriguing and research-worthy.
The queen spoke up.
"What you seek is to explore the power of sun and moon, correct?"
"That's right."
She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them.
"What if we helped with that exploration?"
"Hm..."
That piqued his interest.
"In exchange, lend us Anorilsil's power. We'll aid your research and deliver jinneungra monthly."
"Lend the power?"
"Yes. Not the sword itself. You keep it; just share the power within."