Onward and Upward

Apr 09, 2025

We ended up staying several days at Gateway Fortress, as it was called. It was staffed almost entirely by Dwarves. It turned out we wouldn’t have to take our wagons any further. They would be broken apart and used in the cities. The Dwarves had made a transport system to haul baggage. We would walk, and stay at way stations on the way to whatever city we would be assigned.

We hadn’t known before what city we would be assigned to. There was no reason to assign us a city back at ‘The Day’. The Dwarves kept all of the records here as to what city needed how many people and of what type. Of course, most of the work right now was excavation and planting, but other jobs would soon be needed and they wanted to divvy the experts up efficiently. We Dwarves are big on efficiency.

I was thrilled when we got our assignment. I have a very un-Dwarflike sense of excitement, so I considered it wonderful that we were given the city farthest away from the Gateway, and the furthest into the interior of the mountains. It was the newest city as well. I am afraid that the rest of the family wasn’t so thrilled. It meant a much longer trip to get there.

But they became more comfortable each day. The roads, and the way stations, were of Dwarf manufacture, and built to Dwarf sensibilities. The rooms were solidly built, and you couldn’t hear a thing once the doors were closed. I watched Mother bloom day by day, as she was able to relax in the evenings. Even Father seemed more and more content.

As for my siblings and I, we didn’t care so much. But it was true that I could sleep better without all of the noises of the night. When I closed my door and blew out my lantern in a Dwarf built hostel, I could hear and see nothing. Add that to the fact that we were walking along nice Dwarf-made roads, and not having to pull a wagon, so the trip was certainly more comfortable, physically speaking.

It was four more weeks before we arrived at our destination. We first saw it as we came through a tunnel. Truth be told, it didn’t look like much.

I don’t know how much you know about Dwarf cities, but we build in the mountains, of course. Not too high up, just up out of the valley a little ways. It is always nice to have a well flowing stream in the valley.

We like our cities to fit in, as much as possible, with the hillside. And we don’t want to just dump the rock we take out of our caves, leaving a scar on the hillside. So we make terraces.

When we dig, we mostly take out blocks. Biggish blocks of stone, almost my height. But of course, in taking out the blocks, there are lots of chips and things.

So we take the blocks, and make terraces. And we fill in behind the terraces with chips. And we take the dirt, which we dig up before we make our terrace, and put it on top… not quite filling the terrace, but leaving a little rock wall. And a family will dig their cave right behind, and viola, we have a Dwarf farm.

As soon as the family can, they will do something with the wall of the terrace… get some plant to grow on it. Each farming family has their own idea of what to do, and so each one looks a little different.

But for this city, no one had yet planted anything on the terrace walls; it was too new. It didn’t look like many of the walls were even finished. And the gate wasn’t finished. We Dwarves do a lot of carving on our gates, history and such, and it takes years. All of our cities on the island had had their gates finished long ago, but this one was hardly even begun. It looked bare.

We saw the city toward the end of one day, and entered it toward the end of the next. An awkward time to arrive at our new home, but what else could the hostel makers do? They had wanted to build as few as possible, so they couldn’t be that close together.

Directly inside the gate was a doorway, marked “Assignment Office”. We waited outside while Father went in. He came out with a young boy, not quite my age.

“Pick up your things,” Father said, and the boy led us down the caves.

As we walked I noticed, again, how unfinished it was. There was dust all over, none of the doors to the rooms were carved, let alone the posts. And we hadn’t walked very far at all when the boy stopped at a door, bare like the rest, “Here it is,” he said, and then scampered back the way he had come.

Opening the door with a key Father had been given, we went in. I don’t know what we expected, but it was small, and bare, inside. The room we walked into was, of course, the main room: my parents’ bedroom and all that. I looked at the walls, and there were two up-rooms and two down-rooms, all on the same side. That made sense. It left room for Father to dig out this room bigger if he wanted to. It was a good thing that Gertrude had stayed behind, though, as there wouldn’t have been a room for her. (I realized later, of course, that had Gertrude come they would have assigned us to another suite.)

Mother was the most taken aback. Our suite at home had had dozens of cabinets and things carved into the walls, and was ornately carved and designed. Every door and every wall, and even much of the ceiling had been covered with designs. These walls were bare. Not even finished, really. They still needed their final smooth cut done.

I think Father was as excited as I was. A bare room was less comfortable, perhaps, but it gave one more to do to personalize it. We all stood waiting for his first decision. He looked at the side doors.

“Boys up, and girls down, “he said. This reversed our previous house, but there we had had three up rooms and two down, so the girls had almost been forced into up-rooms. Up-rooms were more typically used for boys.

My younger Brother waited, as was appropriate, for me to choose my room. I didn’t really care, and could see he wanted the near one, so I chose the far room. Then we both raced up our stairs; ostensibly to put our stuff away, but in reality to see our new home.

There was no light in my room, but that didn’t matter. I listened around and could see what it looked like almost as well as if I had used my eyes; better almost, as I could sense the differences in the rock. It was tiny, not even a quarter the size of my folks’ room, but there was plenty of room on either side and beyond, I could tell that. So I could expand it all I wanted.

There were no cabinets, no bed nook. I would have to carve all of that. Until then, I would sleep on the floor. I was really excited.

Back downstairs I could tell the girls were not nearly as excited. Girls don’t like carving nearly as much as boys. But as Gunther and I both told them that we would help (by which everyone understood us to mean that we would do the carving and they would tell us where) they calmed down. All in all, they would much rather sleep on the rock of their own cave than in the wagon, or even the hostels.

Even Mother was doing better. She had increased her complaints to a constant stream; which, for those of you that don’t know Mother, meant she was doing much better. She was quiet and breathed loud when she was upset, noisy when she was busy and OK, and quiet again when she was really content. I knew that state would take days; but we were all happy with where she was now.

Island People

Island People is a young adult fantasy book centring on a young prince. The book starts with his kidnapping and follows his adventures as he not only escapes from his kidnapper but gains critical allies and friends.

The entire book is scheduled on Substack, and there are several sequels. This is a book I wrote years ago, so it is in a bit of a rough form. Critiques and comments are more than welcome, they are requested.

Thank you for reading Von’s Substack. I would love it if you commented! I love hearing from readers, especially critical comments. I would love to start more letter exchanges, so if there’s a subject you’re interested in, get writing and tag me!

Being ‘restacked’ and mentioned in ‘notes’ is very important for lesser-known stacks so… feel free! I’m semi-retired and write as a ministry (and for fun) so you don’t need to feel guilty you aren’t paying for anything, but if you enjoy my writing (even if you dramatically disagree with it), then restack, please! Or mention me in one of your own posts.

If I don’t write you back it is almost certain that I didn’t see it, so please feel free to comment and link to your post. Or if you just think I would be interested in your post!

If you get lost, check out my ‘Table of Contents’ which I try to keep up to date.

Von also writes as ‘Arthur Yeomans’. Under that name he writes children’s, YA, and adult fiction from a Christian perspective. His books are published by Wise Path Books and include the children’s/YA books:

The Bobtails meet the Preacher’s Kid

The Bobtails and the Cousins

The Bobtails go to France

and

No Ordinary School

As well as GK Chesterton’s wonderful book, “What’s Wrong with the World”, for which ‘Arthur’ wrote most of the annotations.

Arthur also has a substack, and a website. On the substack you can listen to some of his published books. Free.

Thanks again, God Bless, Soli Deo gloria,

Von