Chapter 13 - Chapter 12

The forge was filled with the familiar clang of hammers and the heady scent of molten metal, but today, it felt charged with something more. As we stepped inside, I spotted Hephaestus at his workbench, his hulking form hunched over some mysterious project. When he turned around and saw us, his face broke into a grin.

"Ah, you're finally here!" he boomed, his voice like rolling thunder. He motioned us closer, stepping aside to reveal a suit of armor on display behind him.

I stared, speechless. The armor was unlike anything I had ever seen—brilliant silver, polished to a mirror shine, with intricate etchings that shimmered faintly in the low forge light. The design was so elegant, every plate perfectly balanced for protection and agility. It radiated strength, as if it had been crafted not just for a warrior, but for a hero.

"It's… incredible," I breathed, taking a step closer. The silver plating gleamed under the forge's light, and I could see the faint glow of mana runes etched into the metal, pulsing softly as if alive. "How much does it—"

"Don't ask," Elowen cut in sharply, giving me a pointed look. "Just try it on."

I hesitated, then nodded. The suit of armor was fitted perfectly to my size, but that didn't mean it would be easy to put on. As I struggled to maneuver one of the pauldrons over my shoulder, I heard Hephaestus sigh heavily.

"Hold still, boy," he grumbled, his massive hands surprisingly deft as he adjusted the straps and clasps with practiced ease. "Armor can be quite difficult to put on, you should learn to put on your own armor "

I nodded sheepishly. "Right. Got it."

With Hephaestus's help, I finally managed to don the full suit. The moment the last strap clicked into place, I felt… different. Lighter, somehow. I took a few experimental steps, marveling at how easily the armor moved with me, as if it were part of my own skin.

"Not bad, eh?" Hephaestus grinned, crossing his arms as he stepped back to admire his handiwork. "This isn't just any armor, you know. I forged it using celestial silver and draconian scales, tempered in the flames of Olympus itself. It'll protect you from more than just blades and arrows."

I swallowed hard, running a hand over the smooth, gleaming surface of the chest plate. "It's perfect," I whispered. Then I reached for my black Nemean cloak—the only piece of gear I had kept since the start of my journey—and threw it over the armor. The dark fabric settled over the silver plating like a shadow, and I flipped up the hood, glancing at my reflection in a nearby mirror.

For a moment, I didn't recognize myself. The figure staring back at me looked like a knight from legend, draped in midnight and moonlight, his gaze burning with determination.

I couldn't help it—I laughed, shaking my head in amazement. "This is… unreal. Thank you, both of you."

Elowen's smile was soft, her eyes gleaming with pride. "You deserve it, Adrian."

Hephaestus snorted, turning back to his workbench. "You're not done yet, lad." He reached under the table and pulled out a long, polished sheath, holding it up for me to see. It was made from the same silver as the armor, with a black leather belt strapped around it.

"For your sword," he said gruffly. "No blade worth its salt should go without a proper home."

I took the sheath reverently, running my fingers over the smooth metal. Then I carefully slid Draeca into it, feeling it settle into place with a soft, satisfying click. The sheath felt natural at my side, as if it had been waiting for my sword all along.

"Thank you," I said again, my voice thick. "I—thank you."

Hephaestus just grunted, waving a massive hand dismissively. "Enough of that. Go on, you two have a ship to catch."

We left the forge and made our way back to the waiting carriage, my heart still racing with excitement. I felt invincible, like nothing in the world could stand against me in this armor.

The ride to the docks was quick, and when we arrived, I froze at the sight that awaited us. Anchored at the pier was a ship unlike any I'd ever seen—sleek, elegant, and impossibly beautiful. The Vael'theryn. Even with its sails furled, it looked like it could leap into motion at a moment's notice. Its pristine white hull seemed to shimmer under the sunlight, polished wood gleaming like molten gold, every curve and line exuding a sense of grace and power.

But it was the figurehead that truly held my gaze—a magnificent dragon, its form coiled around the prow as if guarding the ship. The beast's eyes glowed faintly with mana, giving it a fierce, almost sentient presence.

"Is this the ship that we are going to be taking?"

Elowen huffed beside me, crossing her arms. "It's the best we could do on such short notice. The Vael'theryn, it translates to 'Windsong of the Sea'. Sadly though I couldn't get any sailors to come with us, I assumed as a princess asking they would join but-"

I glanced at her, surprised by the bitterness in her tone. "I don't mind. Besides, this ship looks advanced enough that we won't need a full crew, right? We won't have to worry about rowers or, uh… what are they called again?"

"Sailors," Elowen corrected dryly. "And no, we won't need them. This ship's outfitted with a mana-powered navigation system. As long as we have enough mana crystals, it can sail itself to any destination."

I let out a low whistle. "That's… pretty impressive."

We walked up the gangplank together, and I turned to offer Elowen a hand as she stepped aboard. A few beastmen laborers were hauling our bags onto the ship, they set the luggage down and bowed respectfully to the princess before retreating back down the pier.

Once they were gone, I took a deep breath and looked around. "So… where's the captain's quarters?"

"Follow me," Elowen said, leading the way down a narrow corridor. The ship's interior was just as finely crafted as the exterior, with polished wood paneling and delicate carvings adorning the walls. She stopped in front of a sturdy door marked with a brass nameplate that read Captain.

"Here we are," she said, pushing the door open.

The captain's room was spacious and filled with maps, charts, and strange devices I didn't recognize. But the centerpiece of the room was a large, intricate control panel mounted on the far wall. It was covered in glowing runes and strange symbols, each one pulsing softly with mana.

"What is this?" I asked, stepping closer.

"It's the ship's navigation system," Elowen explained, brushing a hand over the panel. "With this, we can set a course to anywhere in the world. You just have to focus your mana into the main crystal here and speak the name of the location."

"Okay," I murmured, placing a hand on the crystal. It pulsed softly under my fingers, responding to my touch. "The Port of Piraeus."

The runes on the panel flared brightly, and the crystal began to glow with a soft, blue light. A low hum filled the room, and I could feel the ship vibrating slightly as the mana engines kicked to life.

"We're on our way," I said softly, a thrill running through me. Then I turned to Elowen and grinned. 

☉☉☉

The salty breeze from the ocean danced across the deck, teasing loose strands of my hair and making the sea sparkle from the afternoon sun. I stood on the deck, feet firmly planted, feeling the familiar weight of Draeca in my hand. With every sweep and thrust, I focused on maintaining my form, the blade cutting through the air in clean arcs. Nearby, the princess sat reclined on a deck chair, her long, dark hair fluttering in the wind. Her legs were tucked beneath her, she was still in her dress, I didn't know how that would suit our journey. An old, leather-bound book rested on her lap.

"Did you know," she said suddenly, not looking up from the yellowed pages, "that the First Empress once challenged the entire Royal Guard to single combat when they doubted her right to rule?"

I lowered my sword and wiped my brow, breathing deeply as the sweat began to dry on my skin. "I didn't know that," I replied, eyeing her curiously. "But it sounds like her."

"She defeated every last one of them," Elowen continued, her lips curving into a small smile. "It's said she didn't take a single wound. Can you imagine the shock on their faces?"

I sheathed my blade and began my usual routine of exercises. "No wonder they called her the Peasant made Empress," I said between breaths. "That kind of strength and skill… coming from nothing."

Elowen nodded absently, her eyes scanning the text. "She left behind more than just a legacy of power. She changed what it meant to be royalty. A homeless girl who became an empress, defeating nobles and warlords, and bringing the entire continent under her rule." She paused, tapping her finger against a particular passage as if weighing its meaning. "And here we are, following in her footsteps."

"Is that what we're doing?" I grunted, switching to a set of squats. "We're after a sword that hasn't been seen in centuries, fighting gods know what, all to prove ourselves worthy. Seems like we're setting the bar pretty high."

Elowen closed the book gently, marking her page with a thin ribbon. "Maybe. But that's the point, isn't it? This isn't just about the sword, Adrian. It's about what it represents. Arthuretta believed in a future where strength of will mattered more than blood. That's what we have to show, too." Her voice softened, turning introspective. "I think… I think it's why I am trying to bring back my family's sword."

I paused mid-exercise, my muscles taut. It wasn't often she spoke so openly about her betrayal. Elowen usually wore her composure like armor, revealing little of the turmoil that I knew simmered beneath the surface. I stood up slowly, stretching out the tension in my back. "You've never told me why you're so focused on getting the sword, couldn't you just get another made?" I said after a while.

Elowen's gaze shifted to the horizon, her eyes distant, as if she were seeing something far beyond the rolling waves. The wind tugged at her hair, blowing loose strands across her face, but she made no move to brush them away. "Because it's not just a sword, Adrian," she murmured softly. "It's a symbol. A symbol of everything the Pendragon name used to stand for."

I tilted my head, watching her carefully. There was something fragile in her voice—an emotion she kept hidden behind her usual poise. "Honor? Glory?" I ventured.

Elowen shook her head slowly, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. "No. It's more than that. As you know, Arthuretta wasn't born noble. She came into this world during the darkest age, when the evil god Khaelus held dominion and let Drethar roam freely—demons, monsters, creatures born of nightmares. It was a time of unrelenting terror. But everything changed when Ravanna chose a starving street urchin, an orphan girl scrounging through trash, and set a trial before her that should have killed her. Yet, against all odds, she survived. She endured and was granted the Sword of Attila."

Elowen's eyes gleamed with reverence as she spoke. "Arthuretta took that sword and became the beacon of hope humanity so desperately needed. She purged the world, banishing each Drethar and abomination back into Tartarus, and sealed Khaelus in the abyssal depths of the Void. Afterward, she founded the Kingdom of Pendragon and established a new order. But she did something more—she took the Sword of Attila and split it into two: Excalibur and Gram. Excalibur was meant for her female descendants, and Gram for the male. But Gram was lost to time barely a decade later."

Her gaze turned to me, intense and unyielding. "Somewhere along the way, my family lost sight of what Arthuretta's legacy stood for. They began to see power as their birthright, a divine mandate rather than something earned. They claim to be Ravanna's chosen, the embodiment of her Golden Order. And they've clung to that illusion for centuries."

I frowned, the pieces of her story fitting together like shards of a broken mirror. "So, by finding the sword, you're trying to—"

"Restore faith," she finished, her voice resolute. "Not just in the Pendragon name, but in the ideals Arthuretta stood for. I want the world to believe in us again, not because of our bloodline or our titles, but because we are worthy to rule. To lead. And I can't do that as long as my family remains blinded by their false sense of superiority."

Her shoulders straightened as if bearing an invisible weight. "I need to prove that there is more to our lineage than just a name passed down through the ages."

☉☉☉

The ship sailed steadily through the open waters, the wind whipping through the rigging and filling the sails with a low, rhythmic hum. I stood on the deck, watching the horizon as the vast expanse of the sea stretched out before us, shimmering under the midday sun. Seagulls cried overhead, their voices a distant chorus as they wheeled against the cloudless sky.

Elowen was beside me, her gaze fixed on the horizon as well. "We should reach the coast of Greece by tomorrow morning, if the winds stay favorable," she murmured. There was a hint of anticipation in her voice, but also an edge of wariness.

I nodded, leaning against the railing. "Any guess at what trials are at the temple?"

"I do not know," she replied. "But I do know that it's a place of significance. The temple is based on that Greek Goddess version of the Celestial Athena. So if anything is to take from it, it should be a trial of wisdom or something, from what I saw each trial will have some guardian overlooking it to see if we pass."

I glanced at her, curiosity piqued. "A guardian?"

Elowen's lips curved into a faint smile. "Yes a guardian, they are usually a Falor of that Celestial. So I assume that it is the Falor Athena-."

"Oh great, please don't tell me it is her." I mutter. 

"You know who it is? She raised an eyebrow

"Yeah, I met her in London. Her name is Thalia, a real ball of sunshine. She is the one who gave me the ticket to get to Ogygia, and said we would meet up there but I never saw her since that day."

"Thalia… I don't think I actually heard of her, last I heard the Falor of Athena was some long descendant of Odysseus."

"Well, we will find out soon enough." I replied as we sailed onward, the stars shimmering above like a thousand tiny beacons guiding us toward our destination. As dawn broke, a faint outline of land appeared on the horizon.