Chapter 59: Mithril
Mithril, also known as the Saint of Metals by humans and the Sacred Silver by the dwarven people, while generally called the Metal of Myth. The word Mithril is a common keyword found in all the heroic tales of old and it is a metal of great scarcity enough to be considered the rarest and most precious metal in the world.
The Sword of Arthur, the Shield of Athena, the Plate of Joan, the Boots of Hermes, the Visage of Heimdall, the Shroud of Florence, and the Lyre of Amadeus; each and every one of those items is a holy artifact and from Mithril they were all made.
According to the Duergar Myth, Mithril is mined from the core of silver vines, blessed by the God of the Heavens and the Earth, Mithril is God’s boon to the dwarven people and a miracle they can’t live without. While many other races have always coveted Mithril, no other race has ever managed to produce it. It is unique to the dwarves, to their prayers, and their rituals.
Even if humans were to mine all the silver ore in the world, the Blessing of Mithril wouldn’t grant them any, for only a dwarf can do it. Dwarves consider this process like that of giving birth to a child and every bit of Mithril discovered is given a name by its miner. Miners tend to chant prayers to the silver ore as they mine it with special songs of warmth and love until it yields Mithril.
And even among dwarves, not just anyone can shape Mithril, no one can simply hammer it or dent it with the best tools at their disposal, only the chiefs of the clans are the ones who are passed down the secret prayers of shaping Mithril.
That’s not the end even, Mithril is a metal that is impossible to destroy by any conventional or arcane means. It only listens to the secret prayer and is involved with a lot of mysticism and secrecy no one can even procure. That is why it is not just a simple metal, it is both a miracle and a blessing, some even went as far as saying it is a living metal as all Mithirl artifacts seem to have a mind of their own.
As for the metal itself, Mithril looks like common silver but it never loses its gleam, never gets dirty, never needs polishing, and never accumulates scratches from being collided with harder objects. That is why this Mithril coin caused quite a stir with the tiny bit of scratches that cover its blank surface.
While flipping it in his hand, Prince Liam kept inspecting the silvery gleam of Mithril and admiring its appearance under the moonlight. It felt magical in every way possible and if not for him being an educated man, he would have preferred the gleam of silver over the luster of gold.
As he sat lazily in his parked carriage, the knights that guard it from all sides moved out of the way and the door was opened. Edmond Black and Ian Grayson hopped inside and sat in front of the Prince.
"Your Highness." Ian spoke.
"They slipped off once again?" The Prince asked.