The workshop had an air filled with the thick scent of hot metal, and the clanging of the hammer struck the anvilsoundedded like ambient noise, Fit for this environment. The occasional silent but audible crackling of the frames is accompanied by steady but weekly rhythmic sparks. The flames cast a warm orang, a hue covering everything in it, way leaving shadows behind. The workshop was littered with tools, weapons in various stages of completion, and pieces of scrap metal sprawled about. Yet, amid this chaos, a certain hint of order seems to lie within it. Elias seemed to be at home as if he was in his element. One could easily tell that he had spent numerous hours working in the workshop.
"Hold still, keal." He muttered in his deep voice, soft yet firm.
He was lifting a large, flat piece of metal and shaping it with a mallet. Lifting it with ease, he hammered away at the metal, sending sparks everywhere; his rhythm was steady and unbroken as if I bothered the world around him. Even though I was trapped within this baby's body, the sound of it felt comforting, so steady as if it were the heartbeat of the world around me.
I fidgeted a little on the workbench, trying to take a look at the scenery. The tools, the weapons, that strange but familiar hum in the air fascinating, and the flames, with their soothing glow and warmth. Elias paused from hammering away at the metal as if noticing my glances around the workshop. Wiping his brow, he glanced over at me with a smile and said.
"Don't get too comfortable, Kael. This workshop is a hard place to be, even for grown men. You'll learn, though. One day you'll understand."
I didn't understand what he meant by that, I would ask him but I just cooed and wiggled in his direction at his words. An unanswered question was on my mind, and still no answers; I wanted to ask him questions.
'What kind of a place did I find myself in? Why does everything around me feel so... alive?
Elias smiled softly as if noticing my confused state. "You can do a lot more than just make weapons here, you know. It's about shaping the very world around us. Crafting, forging your path forward."
A familiar sensation suddenly washed over me, again putting it at the back of my mind. This time it was a little bit different. It was some deeper, something more ancient. I felt as if I had become one with the very air. A presence, something ancient, something primal, whispered in the corners of my senses. Was it the land itself? Was it magic?
"Your mother's probably worrying," Elias said, pulling me out of my daze. Lifting me and cradling me once more, his voice was heard again. "Like she always does"
I scanned around the room with my eyes, as if I had lost something precious, desperately searching for that strange presence again. But it was gone; now I was left with a hollow sensation within me. I couldn't tell you what just happened, but I didn't have long to dwell on it.
My father walked over to a different workbench, one which I was not placed on in a soft piece of cloth. I watched as he began to sharpen a blade; the sounds of metal grinding away at a stone soon began to fill the air. He glanced over his shoulder, giving a small smile.
"One day you'll learn how to use a sword like this. Just like your old man."
I blinked at him. A sword?
Before I could contemplate the thought further, the door to the workshop dreamed open, and a gust of wind blew in, with it the sounds of a commotion from the village. Elias's expression shifted at once from calm to alert, as if sensing that something was wrong. He didn't panic, but the change was subtle, A trained readiness in the way he stood and carried himself, the way his eyes scanned over the room before his emerald eyes peered into mine.
We'll finish this later, Kael. Stay here," he said though I didn't have much chance to protest. He hurried to the door and paused, looking back at me one last time. "This village is peaceful, but peace is fragile."
The door shut with a soft thud, and I was left in the dim light of the workshop. The forge cracked behind me, the tool around which hummed silently but still audible to my ears, and that strange feeling was still there, lingering at the edge of my awareness. I felt it more strongly now, but it didn't seem to come from the forge or the flames.
What was that?
Mira's Pov:
To Mira, the weight of the world had never felt more exciting than when the door of the clinic would burst open, and the smell of various herbs and potions was pushed away by the metallic stench of blood. Mira turned sharply from the table where she'd been grinding the Lunafern into a paste, her golden eyes narrowed at a sudden commotion.
Two guards stumbled inside, dragging a third between them. The injured man's armor was dented and bloodied, his face pale and covered in a mixture of sweat and blood. The faint light that was seeping through the window showed a wicked gash that stretched along his side; the wound was so deep it was exposing the raw and torn muscle beneath.
"Get him on the table, now!" Mira barked, the calm authority in her voice cutting through the panic.
The taller of the two guards, A man with chestnut hair and a scar running against his jawline, nodded grimly.
"Yes, Lady Ardent." With a grunt of effort, he and his partner carried the wounded man onto the central table, its long-forgotten smooth surface scarred from years of similar emergencies. Mira was by their side in an Instant, her hands moving deftly to remove the battered breastplate.
"Gareth, tell me what happened here?" she said whilst still not looking up, addressing the scarred guard. Garden's voice was tight, his words clipped.
"We were patrolling the edge of the forest. Then there was some movement; Lurkers. Two of them. We Barely managed to drive them off, but Joren here..." He gestured to the unconscious guard. "He caught the worst of it."
Mira pressed her lips together in a thin line, her eyes scanning over Joren's injuries with a practiced eye. She realized that the gash along his side wasn't the only problem. His leg was twisted unnaturally, and his arm had deep claw marks raking down them.
"Ana, bring me the draught of Crimson sage and Moonroot," Mira called over her shoulder.
A petite woman with dark hair that was tied back into a neat bun appeared from an adjoining room; her hands were steady despite the tension in the air. Ana, Mira's apprentice, moved swiftly to retrieve the requested items, her face pale but composed.
"Yes, Lady Mira," Ana said, her voice soft but determined.
As Ana worked, Mira stretched both hands out, hovering them just above the wound on Joren. A faint glow began to emanate from her palms, warm and golden, like the sunlight filtering through autumn leaves. The light wasn't just a glow-it seemed to be alive with the essence of some energy, radiating warmth and calm. It was the power of Light essence, Mira's chosen connection to Nythera's primal energy, Aether. The energy danced in her hands, similar to the fire that she had displayed to Kael; it danced like a living thing. The guards watched in awe, their earlier panic giving way to hushed reverence.
Gareth took a step back, muttering under his breath, "By the Gods..."
Mira ignored them, solely focused on the task at hand. The Aether responded to her will, flowing through her into Joren's body. The edges of the gash began to knit together; the once torn muscle now was fusing as the golden light coursed over the wound. The claw marks on his arms started to shrink; the once-baked red flesh returned to a soft pink as new skin began to replace the old.
"He'll live," Mira murmured, though her brow furrowed with effort. Healing through light essence wasn't without its cost. It not only drew Aether from the surroundings but also on her strength as well, which was beginning to show. Ana returned with a potion, placing it carefully in Mira's outstretched hand. Mira uncorked it with a Flick of her thumb and poured the shimmering liquid into Jordan's mouth. His throat worked reflexively, and his breathing began to steady; even his face, which was drenched in sweat, looked to be at ease. This made the once tense guards visibly relaxed, the tension in their shoulders easing.
"Thank you, Lady Ardent," Gareth said, his voice coded thick with gratitude. Mira straightened, brushing a strand of golden hair from her face.
"Don't thank me yet. YoU said there were two Lurkers? Did you kill them? Gareth hesitated at the question but answered.
"No, we wounded them, they retreated into the forest. We didn't have the number to pursue them."
"That was the right call," Mira said, though with a grave tone.
"But the fact that they were this close to the village is troubling. Lurkers don't usually stray far from the deep woods unless something drives them out."
Ana's voice was quiet but steady as she, too, spoke up." Lady Mira, could this be connected to the increased monster sightings in the area? The traders were saying-"
"I know what the traders were saying," Mira interrupted, though not unkindly.
Her golden eyes flicked towards the window, where the fading of evening cast long shadows across the room.
"Something's stirring in the wild. Something dangerous." Joren groaned softly, his eyelids fluttering as he began to regain consciousness. Mira placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Rest. You'll need your strength." Turning to look at the scarred guard called Gareth,
"Inform the village guard captain. We need to increase patrols around the perimeter and warn the villagers to stay away from the forest. Especially at night."
"Yes ma'am." Gareth bowed slightly, his expression determined. He and his partner left, their boots throwing against the floor as they exited the clinic. Mira finally let out a slow breath, which it seemed that she had been holding for quite some time, her hands still with residual Aether. She turned to Ana, who was already cleaning the tools and preparing bandages.
"You did well, Ana," Mira said softly. Ana looked up, her dark eyes widening.
"Thank you, Lady Mira." Said Ana.
But Mia's mind was elsewhere, her thoughts swirling with unease. The light of the Aether still pulsed faintly in the room, a reminder of the world's deeper current. She could feel the storm was gathering at the edges of her awareness, dark and menacing.
She thought of Kael, of Elias, of the fragile peace they had built in this village.
And she thought of the shadows creeping ever closer.
This wasn't over.
Not by a long shot...