The cold lingered in the air as Kaelin stood alone in the square, the woman's cryptic words echoing in his mind. "You are not alone in your pursuit of the Forge… Others seek the shards, and not all of them share your purpose." The idea of other Eternals was not new—Kaelin had suspected as much after the trial in the Veil—but the thought of actively encountering them unsettled him.
Kaelin turned his gaze toward the forest beyond the village, its dark expanse a stark reminder of the trials he had faced. The shadows, the shard, the constant battle for survival—it was all tied to the multiverse's slow unraveling. And now, it seemed, his role in this cosmic conflict was far from solitary.
A faint creak behind him snapped Kaelin out of his thoughts. He turned to see Jorin stepping cautiously out of the inn, his lantern casting warm light over the scorched cobblestones.
"She's gone?" Jorin asked, his voice hushed.
Kaelin nodded. "For now."
The innkeeper's brow furrowed. "Who was she? Another shadow?"
"No," Kaelin said, his tone even. "Something else. A messenger from someone… like me."
Jorin's expression darkened. "You mean one of these 'Eternals' you mentioned?"
Kaelin's silence was answer enough.
Jorin shook his head, his grip tightening on the lantern's handle. "This village has seen its share of strange things, but this… It's bigger than anything we've faced before, isn't it?"
"It is," Kaelin admitted. He hesitated, then added, "I can't promise the trouble will stop if I leave, but staying here won't make it better."
Jorin sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. "You saved us tonight. I won't forget that. But if what you say is true… I'd be lying if I said I wasn't afraid of what comes next."
Kaelin's lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. "You're not the only one."
The village was quiet as Kaelin made his way back to the inn. The night's events weighed heavily on his mind, each piece of the puzzle adding to the growing tension in his chest. The Forge, the shards, the shadows, the rival Eternals—everything felt like a thread pulling him toward an inevitable conclusion, one he wasn't sure he was ready to face.
In his room, Kaelin sat on the edge of the bed, his sword resting across his knees. The shard's faint hum resonated in his chest, a reminder of its presence and power. He ran his fingers along the blade's edge, his mind drifting to the woman's words. "The multiverse is breaking… Save it, or let it fall."
Kaelin exhaled sharply, his hand tightening on the hilt. He had never asked for this curse, never sought the responsibility tied to the Forge. But the shards were part of him now, their light entwined with his existence. He couldn't ignore their call, no matter how much he might want to.
The faint creak of the floorboards drew Kaelin's attention. He glanced toward the door, his body tensing instinctively. "Who's there?"
The door opened slowly, revealing a boy with a mop of dark curls and wide, curious eyes. It was the same boy who had asked Kaelin if he was a knight when he first arrived—Eron, Jorin's son.
Kaelin relaxed slightly, though his expression remained guarded. "You should be in bed."
The boy stepped inside, his gaze fixed on the sword across Kaelin's knees. "You're not like the others," he said, his voice soft. "You're not afraid."
Kaelin snorted quietly, his lips twitching into a faint smile. "Not afraid?" he echoed. "Kid, I'm afraid all the time. I just don't let it stop me."
Eron tilted his head, his curiosity undeterred. "Why do you fight? You could just leave, couldn't you?"
Kaelin's smile faded. He stared at the boy for a long moment before answering. "Because someone has to," he said. "And because running won't change anything."
The boy nodded, his gaze dropping to the sword. "Is it true? What they say? That your sword talks to you?"
Kaelin chuckled, the sound low and rough. "Not exactly," he said. "But sometimes… it feels like it does."
Eron reached out hesitantly, his small hand hovering near the blade. "Does it hurt?"
Kaelin's hand moved swiftly, gently catching the boy's wrist before he could touch the sword. "It can," he said, his tone serious. "This isn't a toy, Eron. It's a burden."
The boy's eyes widened, but he didn't pull away. "Do you ever wish you didn't have it?"
Kaelin's grip loosened, and he leaned back, his gaze distant. "Every day," he admitted. "But wishing doesn't change the world. Only action does."
Eron's expression turned thoughtful, and he nodded slowly. "I hope I'm as brave as you when I grow up."
Kaelin's lips twitched into a faint, bittersweet smile. "Don't be," he said quietly. "Be better."
The boy lingered for a moment before turning and slipping out the door, leaving Kaelin alone once more. The room was silent save for the faint hum of the sword, its light casting soft shadows across the walls.
Kaelin leaned back against the wall, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. The boy's words lingered in his mind, a reminder of the weight he carried—not just for himself, but for every life touched by the Forge's light.
The first rays of dawn were breaking over the horizon when Kaelin stepped outside. The air was crisp and cold, the village still shrouded in the quiet of early morning. The scorched cobblestones in the square were a stark reminder of the battle, a scar that would not easily fade.
Jorin was already awake, standing on the inn's porch with a steaming mug in hand. He nodded to Kaelin as he approached. "Heading out?"
Kaelin nodded. "The shard's pull is stronger now. It's leading me somewhere."
Jorin frowned, his gaze flicking to the forest. "And what happens when you get there?"
Kaelin's hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his expression unreadable. "More trouble, probably."
The innkeeper chuckled softly, though the sound held little humor. "Figures."
Kaelin glanced back at the village, his gaze lingering on the darkened windows and quiet streets. "Keep them safe," he said. "Whatever happens, don't let fear take hold."
Jorin nodded, his jaw tightening. "And you? What about your fear?"
Kaelin's lips curled into a faint, grim smile. "I don't have the luxury of it."
With that, he turned and began walking toward the forest, the shard's faint hum guiding his steps. The path ahead was uncertain, the road fraught with danger and questions. But Kaelin Veynar had never been one to shy away from the unknown.
The light of the Forge called to him, and he would answer.