A carriage came to a stop in front of Damian's workshop. The sound of its wheels crunching against the gravel broke the evening's silence. Leone stepped out. His sharp gaze took in the modest structure before him.
"This must be the place," he muttered, his lips curling slightly. "A typical blacksmith's workshop. Why is it that almost every blacksmith lives in such disarray? Do they ever think of keeping things clean?"
Leone approached the door and knocked firmly. Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing Damian's rugged figure.
"Welcome, 3rd Lord," Damian greeted, bowing slightly. "You've come at just the right time. The young master has finished his work."
"Is that so?" Leone's expression softened. "Thank you for taking care of him."
"Oh, 3rd Lord, there's no need for thanks. It was my honor."
Leone gave a slight nod. "Where is my son?"
"He's inside," Damian replied, stepping aside to let him in. "He's been busy with his creation. Follow me."
As Leone entered, a cascade of unfamiliar, melodious sounds filled the air. The notes danced through the workshop, each one more enchanting than the last. He paused, his brow furrowing in amazement.
"Damian, what are those beautiful sounds? I've never heard anything like them."
Damian chuckled softly.
"Those, my lord, are the sounds of your son's creation. Go and see for yourself."
Intrigued, Leone followed the sounds to a small corner of the workshop. There, amidst the clutter of tools and scraps, was Ashan. He sat on a stool, carefully tuning an instrument that radiated an otherworldly charm.
"Son," Leone called softly.
Ashan looked up from his work, a smile lighting up his face. "Father, you came at the perfect time. I've just finished it." He held up the instrument, its polished surface gleaming under the dim light.
Leone stepped closer, his eyes widening as he took in the intricate design. "What is this, son?"
"It's a musical instrument," Ashan explained, handing it over. "I designed it myself. Do you like it?"
Leone examined the guitar, plucking each of its six strings. The distinct tones resonated in the air, sharp yet harmonious.
"To think that metal strings could produce such sounds… How did you come up with this?"
Ashan smiled modestly. "It started as an accident. I stumbled upon the idea and decided to study it further. After much trial and error, I created this."
Damian, who had been watching silently, couldn't hold back his admiration.
"Your son is a genius, 3rd Lord. When he began working, I couldn't make sense of what he was trying to create. But now, seeing the result… It's nothing short of a masterpiece. I wonder why our race never thought of this before."
Leone sighed, his gaze turning contemplative.
"Our culture has always been rigid, bound by traditions and narrow goals. We rarely look beyond what we know. It's no surprise that innovation like this was overlooked."
Damian nodded in agreement. "Indeed, it's an unfortunate truth."
Leone placed a hand on Ashan's head, his voice filled with pride.
"And that's why I'm so proud of you, my son. Even while living within the confines of our world, you managed to see beyond them. You've achieved something I couldn't even dream of."
He handed the guitar back to Ashan. "I'm looking forward to seeing how you play it."
Ashan smiled and nodded. "I won't disappoint you, Father."
Leone turned to Damian. "We'll be taking our leave now. Thank you for your kindness and hospitality."
"Safe travels, my lord," Damian replied with a bow.
As they stepped outside, Ashan glanced back at Damian and gave him a warm smile.
"I'll visit again. See you soon."
.....
Later that night, Ashan lay on his bed, staring at the guitar resting on his work table. The moonlight streaming through the window bathed the room in a serene glow.
"Finally, I've created something I truly wanted," he mused. "The reactions were as expected, though Mother seemed even more excited than Father. Women tend to have a deeper connection to music."
He chuckled softly to himself. "I've already mastered the guitar in theory, but adjusting my hands to this specific design will take some practice. If I focus, I can perfect it within a month. After that, I'll teach Mother—she'll love it."
His gaze shifted to the moon outside the window. A tranquil smile graced his face.
"Morning and night... the two most beautiful parts of the day. Morning symbolizes beginnings, birth, and hope, while night signifies endings, rest, and reflection. They remind us of life's fleeting nature, yet most people seem to have forgotten their meaning. I wonder if anyone else still sees it the way I do."
A sudden sound interrupted his thoughts.
Thud.
"What was that?" Ashan muttered, sitting up. "Did something hit the window?"
He walked over and peered outside. His eyes widened in shock. Perched on a nearby branch was the white peacock he had once freed at the auction. It trembled as it gazed at him with pleading eyes.
"Why are you here?" Ashan whispered, opening the window and carefully bringing the bird inside. Its body was cold, its feathers ruffled.
"She's freezing… I thought she'd found a safe place, but why is she here? Did she follow me all this time?"
As he cradled the peacock, a thought struck him.
"You're a demi-human, aren't you? Can you transform into your human form?"
The bird let out a weak cry.
Kee-ow… (I can't. It hurts.)
"Hurt? What's causing you pain?" Ashan frowned, placing his hands gently on its body. Moments later, his face darkened.
"Who could do something so cruel?" he murmured, disgusted.
He laid the peacock on his bed. "It's a death lock—designed to suppress a mana core. Trying to use mana causes unbearable pain. It's more punishment than restraint. No wonder she's suffering."
Ashan took a deep breath, placing his hands on the peacock again. "There's only one way to break this. But it's dangerous—if I make even the slightest mistake, she won't survive."
For the next thirty minutes, Ashan worked in silence, beads of sweat forming on his brow. Finally, he exhaled in relief and pulled his hands away.
"It's done. The lock is broken. She is safe now."
The peacock opened its eyes weakly, gazing at him.
"Your pain should be gone. Try shifting into your human form," Ashan urged.
A soft white light enveloped the bird, and moments later, she transformed into a beautiful young girl dressed in white. Her long, silvery hair cascaded down her back, and her pale blue eyes shimmered with exhaustion.
"Tha...nk you… Where… am I?" she whispered.
Ashan smiled, placing a reassuring hand on her head.
"Don't worry. You're safe now. Rest—you need it."
The girl closed her eyes, her breathing steadying as she drifted into a peaceful sleep.
To be continued…