Chapter 27: The Crow's Call
The grand festivities were in full swing in the castle, with high-ranking nobles reveling in the success of the tournament, their laughter and chatter echoing through the halls. Exquisite food and fine drinks flowed freely, and nobles conversed about the latest events, trades, and promising alliances.
But in a more secluded chamber, far from the festive atmosphere, the tone was drastically different. The queen, regal and stern, stood before the second prince with a sharp gaze, her posture tall and unyielding. Beside her, the crown princess folded her arms, mirroring their mother's disapproval. The young prince, Cailum, the same "Cailum " who had fought in the tournament, met their reproachful stares with a mix of defiance and barely concealed pride.
"Do you understand what you've risked?" the queen's voice was cold. "Entering the tournament in disguise—without telling us! You could have been gravely injured, or worse."
The princess added, "You should know better Cailum. Risking your life for some adventure. If word got out, do you know what kind of embarrassment this could bring?"
Before cailum could reply, a strange fluttering sound caught everyone's attention. A sleek, dark crow swooped through the window, landing on the back of a nearby chair. The queen's eyes widened as the bird calmly opened its beak, and a voice began to speak.
"This is a golem I created to deliver messages," the crow intoned in a steady, youthful voice. "I might sound young, but I am actually in my eighties. I am the Blacksmith of a Thousand Tales. And as the name suggests, most of my divine weapons were inspired by heroic fairy tales I was told as a child. Stories that made me wish to bring those legendary weapons to life."
The queen and the princes exchanged stunned looks, while eyes shone with intrigue. The crow continued, its voice unwavering:
"You, second prince, are qualified for one of my divine weapons. Once it is complete, and should you choose to accept it, I will bring it to you."
With its message complete, the crow tilted its head, seeming to watch the prince for a reaction, then spread its wings and flew out the way it came.
For a moment, silence filled the room. The queen's initial shock gave way to simmering anger. "This…blacksmith dares to communicate with us so boldly?" She turned to Cailum , her eyes blazing. "And all the more reason for you to have stayed out of the tournament. You've brought attention we don't need, Alaric."
The crown princess nodded. "Do you even realize what this message means? Now that this blacksmith knows of you, you're only drawing more eyes to us."
But a delighted giggle broke the tense atmosphere. Cailums younger sister, the princess, couldn't contain her excitement. She clapped her hands, her eyes sparkling with admiration for her brother.
"Mother, isn't this wonderful?" she exclaimed, nearly bouncing with excitement. "cailum is going to have a divine weapon! Made by the Blacksmith of a Thousand Tales!" She tugged at her brother's sleeve, beaming. "This is amazing!"
The queen sighed, her anger softening at the sight of her daughter's enthusiasm. She turned back to Cailum, her expression still serious but with a hint of concern. "This blacksmith, whoever he is, clearly possesses abilities beyond what we know. And now, with him involved, we must tread carefully."
Yet despite her mother's warnings, the young princess continued to gaze at her brother with pride. Cailum, though keeping a respectful demeanor, could barely contain his own excitement. The thought of wielding a divine weapon from such a fabled blacksmith stirred something within him—a mix of curiosity and ambition that was hard to ignore.
And as the crow flew back into the night, cailums path seemed set toward a new adventure, one that might bring him closer to the newly fabled Blacksmith of a Thousand Tales and the mysteries he held.
The moonlight filtered softly through the high, arched windows of the capital's church, casting long shadows across the cold stone floor. At the heart of the cathedral, beneath the towering statue of the God for Warriors, Seraphine knelt in prayer, her eyes closed in quiet reverence. Her armor gleamed dimly in the stillness, reflecting the soft light as she whispered silent prayers for guidance, hoping for the strength to protect the weak and uphold justice.
Her thoughts were heavy with memories of the countless orphans she had helped in her years as a holy knight, the faces of the children she had promised to protect. She could feel their tiny hands gripping her own, their hope burning bright even in the darkest moments. But as she prayed, a sudden, unexpected noise shattered the silence.
A flutter of wings echoed from above, and before Seraphine could raise her head, a crow swooped down from the ceiling. It flew straight into the church, startling her as it landed atop the stone pillar nearby. But this was no ordinary crow. The bird's eyes gleamed with an unnatural intelligence, and it did not caw or cry—it spoke, its voice steady and clear, though strangely youthful.
"This is a golem I created," the crow said, its voice carrying across the church. "I might sound young, but I'm actually in my eighties. I am the Blacksmith of a Thousand Tales."
Seraphine froze. Her eyes widened as the words sank in. A golem delivering a message? A voice echoing in her mind like a whisper from the past.
"I've been watching," the crow continued, "and I heard that you've wanted to help the orphans. That truly touched me. I myself was once an orphan. Those were difficult times, and I found solace in the heroic fairy tales I heard as a child. It was those stories that gave me hope—hope that a better world could exist. And now, I dream of making those fairy tales a reality."
The crow paused for a moment, as if to let its words sink in, and then spoke again.
"Once my work is complete, I will give you a holy sword—Excalibur. It is said to have once been wielded by a farm girl who pulled it from a stone and stopped an evil that threatened to destroy her country. She saved her people, and with this sword, I believe you can do the same. It is said that only someone pure of heart could pull the sword from its resting place, someone without selfish desire, who seeks only the good of others."
The crow's wings fluttered once more before it turned to fly back toward the ceiling. "I hope to meet you soon, Seraphine. When the time is right, we will speak again."
The bird vanished into the night, leaving only silence in its wake.
Seraphine remained kneeling, her heart racing, the weight of the message settling heavily on her shoulders. She could feel the cool stone beneath her hands, the scent of the church's incense hanging in the air. The quiet of the night seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her reaction.
The Blacksmith of a Thousand Tales... The name echoed in her mind, a sense of wonder and suspicion rising in equal measure. The offer was tantalizing—a sword that could save countless lives, a chance to fulfill the very dream she had spent her life pursuing. Yet, doubts gnawed at her. Could she trust this person? A stranger who had been watching her, who knew her deepest desires and fears?
Her gaze drifted toward the towering statue of the God for Warriors, the figure that had been her guide for so many years. What would you say? she wondered. Would you believe this mysterious figure's promise?
Seraphine rose to her feet slowly, her hand still resting on the hilt of her sword. The words of the crow played over and over in her mind. A farm girl who pulled Excalibur from a stone... The thought lingered. And the crow had mentioned purity of heart. Only someone without selfish desire...
Could it be real? Was she truly the one worthy of such a weapon? Was her heart pure enough to wield Excalibur for the greater good, as the farm girl had done?
The church, once a place of solitude and solace, now seemed full of possibilities—and dangers. She felt a stirring in her chest, a new purpose beginning to take shape. Perhaps this was the sign she had been waiting for.
With a final glance at the empty space where the crow had vanished, Seraphine left the church, her thoughts still swirling. Her heart was calm, yet filled with uncertainty. She didn't know who the Blacksmith of a Thousand Tales truly was, or whether she could trust him, but one thing was certain: she would find out.
And with that thought, Seraphine walked into the night, a new path opening before her, her mind as open and full of questions as the stars overhead.