Kellan was jolted awake by a firm shake on his shoulder. Blinking groggily, he looked up to see Eamon's face, illuminated by the first light of dawn creeping through the barracks window.
"Wake up, Kellan. We've got a lot of work ahead of us," Eamon said, his voice carrying a mix of urgency and determination.
Kellan rubbed his eyes and stretched, feeling the familiar ache of sore muscles from the relentless training and work they had been doing. He nodded and quickly got out of bed, joining Eamon and the other recruits who were already getting dressed and preparing for the day.
The fort was bustling with activity as they made their way to the mess hall for a quick breakfast. Soldiers and recruits moved with purpose, their faces set with determination. Today marked the beginning of their official duties, and the air was thick with anticipation.
After breakfast, Kellan and Eamon headed to the parade ground, where Lieutenant Commander Greaves was already waiting for them. His grizzled face was stern, and his gaze swept over the assembled recruits with a mix of scrutiny and approval.
"Today," Greaves began, his voice commanding attention, "you will begin your official duties as soldiers of Alanor. You've been through the training, but now you must prove yourselves in the field. The kingdom needs you."
The recruits listened intently, their focus on the officer before them. Greaves continued, "You will be assigned to different units based on your skills and training. Some of you will be sent to guard posts, others will join scouting missions, and a few will be assigned to specialized roles. Pay attention, and follow your orders. The safety of the kingdom depends on you."
Kellan felt a twinge of nervousness but steadied himself. He had trained hard for this moment, and he was determined not to let his nerves get the better of him.
As the recruits were called up one by one and assigned to their units, Kellan found himself placed in a special technical unit responsible for the maintenance and repair of weapons, armor, and helmets. This unit was crucial in ensuring that all gear was battle-ready for the next day.
Eamon, to Kellan's surprise, was assigned to a scouting unit. Lieutenant Commander Greaves had noticed Eamon's exceptional eyesight and proficiency with a bow during training, making him a perfect fit for the role.
Kellan made his way to the workshop, his new home within the fort. The sound of hammers striking metal and the hiss of hot steel being quenched in water greeted him as he entered. The air was thick with the familiar smells of smoke and molten iron.
Inside, he saw several other blacksmiths hard at work. One of them, a grizzled man named Roran, looked up and gave Kellan a nod. "You must be the new recruit. Welcome to the forge."
Kellan nodded, feeling a mix of pride and nervousness. "Thank you. I'm ready to get to work."
Another blacksmith, an elderly woman named Marta, stepped forward. "It's good to see a new face around here. We've been at this for years, and it's a welcome sight to have some young blood join us."
Kellan smiled, appreciating the warm welcome. "I'm honored to be here. I'll do my best."
Roran clapped Kellan on the back. "You'll do fine. We've heard good things about you. Let's get you started."
Kellan was shown to his workstation, where he quickly got to work. The rhythmic pounding of hammers filled the air, creating a steady cadence that resonated through the workshop. As they toiled, the blacksmiths exchanged stories and memories, the shared experiences lightened the mood and helped Kellan get assimilated.
During a brief break, Roran wiped the sweat from his brow and looked at Kellan thoughtfully. "You know, lad, it's good to see someone so dedicated. You've got good hands. It's a shame what happened to your village, but I'm glad you're here, doing something that matters."
Kellan nodded, feeling a complex mix of sorrow and determination. "I miss the village, but being here gives me hope. I hope I'm making a difference."
Roran's eyes softened. "You are, lad. Every piece of armor we mend, every sword we sharpen, it all contributes to the fight. Remember that."
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the workshop, Kellan and the others finished their final pieces for the day. They stood back, surveying the rows of gleaming weapons and freshly repaired armor.
At that moment, the door to the workshop opened, and Bram, the head blacksmith, entered. He had been away dealing with paperwork and other administrative duties. His eyes scanned the room, landing on Kellan. For a moment, he seemed stunned, then a broad smile spread across his face.
"Kellan! I can hardly believe it's you," Bram exclaimed, striding over and enveloping Kellan in a hearty embrace. "I thought I'd lost everyone from Emberfall. It's a miracle to see you alive and well."
Kellan returned the embrace, his heart swelling with emotion. "I'm here, Bram. I managed to survive and find my way here."
Bram pulled back, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You've grown, lad. And you've found your place here, I see. We'll do great things together, just like old times."
Kellan nodded, a sense of belonging washing over him. "Yes, we will. It's good to be back at the forge, with you."
The other blacksmiths gathered around, welcoming Kellan into their fold with pats on the back and words of encouragement. The camaraderie and support in the room were palpable, and Kellan felt a renewed sense of purpose.