Kael Draven struck the red-hot blade with his hammer, each blow filling the small forge with the sound of ringing steel. Sparks flew, landing on the stone floor as he shaped the blade.
"Good enough," he muttered, setting the blade aside to cool. It wasn't perfect, but it would do.
Kael stepped outside to breathe in the fresh autumn air.
The town of Eldhaven stretched out below the hill. It was quiet and peaceful. It was a small place at the edge of the Blackpeak Mountains.
Life was simple and predictable in Eldhaven and that was how Kael liked it—steady work, no surprises.
The people of the town were busy in the streets. They were chatting and trading at the market. The children were laughing and playing near the streets.
To them, it was just another day but for Kael, it felt different. It felt like he was waiting for something to change, though he didn't know what.
…..
The sound of footsteps behind him broke his thoughts.
Kael turned to see Joran, the town's guard captain walking towards him with a serious look on his face.
"Kael," Joran said. "I need your help."
"What is it?" Kael asked, crossing his arms.
"Some kids were playing near the old ruins," Joran said. "They saw something strange—big tracks and torn-up ground."
"Tracks?" Kael raised an eyebrow, clearly curious
"Yeah and none of my men are free. Can you come with me to take a look?"
Kael sighed. He didn't like the ruins—they gave him a bad feeling. But the forge was hot and he needed a break. "Fine," he said, grabbing his sword.
…..
The path to the ruins went through the forest. Kael walked beside Joran, who seemed unusually quiet.
"You ever wonder what those ruins were?" Kael asked, trying to break the silence.
"Not really," Joran replied. "Old stones, probably a fort or a temple. Doesn't matter now."
Kael nodded. But the ruins had always made him uneasy. There was something about them. It felt like they were watching. It gave him an icky feeling.
As they reached their destination, the air felt colder, and a strange smell lingered. It smelled like metal and smoke.
Kael's hand tightened on his sword.
"Stay ready," Joran muttered.
The ruins appeared, broken walls and a crumbling tower overgrown with moss.
Just as the kids had said, the ground was torn up, with deep claw marks in the dirt.
"What could have done this?" Joran whispered as he crouched to inspect the tracks.
Kael didn't answer. His eyes were fixed on something half-buried in the rubble. It sparkled in the weak sunlight.
He slowly made his way towards it.
It was a crown made of dark red metal, unlike anything he had ever seen.
It seemed to pulse faintly, as though it were alive. Kael felt his chest tighten. He couldn't explain it but he felt drawn to it it felt like it was calling his name.
"Kael, don't touch it—" Joran yelled, but it was too late. Kael was already reaching out.
The moment his fingers brushed the crown, pain shot through his hand like fire, and a cold and ancient voice whispered in his head
"You have found me at last."
Kael stumbled back, clutching his head. Images flashed in his mind—bloody battles, burning cities, and a throne shrouded in shadows and covered in fresh blood.
His heart pounded as the vision faded, leaving him gasping for air.
"Kael!" Joran grabbed his shoulder and shook him hard.
Kael blinked, his breathing unsteady. The crown lay still on the ground, but he felt different. Like something inside him had shifted.
"We shouldn't be here," Kael said, his voice trembling.
Joran nodded, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Let's get out of here. We will bring the priest back to deal with it."
As they turned to leave, Kael glanced back at the crown one last time. It looked harmless now, but he could still feel it watching him, waiting for him.
…..