The Night After Their Escape…
Aeron coughed violently, spitting out water as he lay sprawled on the damp ground, his clothes soaked through. His body ached, his limbs felt like lead. Blinking against the dim light of a flickering fire, he struggled to sit up.
A few feet away, Allesio sat by a burning log, gripping a jagged rock and striking it against the thick chain that bound them together. Sparks flickered, but the chain remained unscathed.
As Aeron's senses returned, the memories hit him. We jumped into the river… the current dragged us away… and then… nothing.
His voice came out hoarse. "Where are we?"
Allesio didn't respond immediately. He only slammed the rock against the chain one last time before tossing it aside in frustration.
Aeron pushed himself to his feet, wobbling slightly before steadying himself. "Didn't they say the chain was unbreakable?"
Allesio exhaled sharply, clearly annoyed. "There's a blacksmith in Caltheris. We'll go to him."
Aeron frowned. "Caltheris? That's far from the capital."
His gaze shifted around their surroundings, his instincts suddenly on high alert. Towering trees loomed over them, their dark silhouettes stretching endlessly into the misty night. The air was thick, carrying a faint scent of damp earth and something… unnatural. He turned back to Allesio. "Where exactly are we?"
"Ashmoor Forest," Allesio muttered.
Aeron's stomach dropped. "Ashmoor Forest? How the hell did we end up here?"
The realization sent a chill down his spine. Ashmoor Forest lay between Eryndor and Kaldarheim—hundreds of kilometers away from the capital. A vast, treacherous expanse teeming with magic beasts, a place forbidden to all but the most seasoned hunters.
Aeron's mind raced, trying to piece together how they had drifted this far. "This doesn't make sense… The river couldn't have—"
Allesio ignored him, lying down near the fire without another word.
Aeron sighed in frustration. "Is sleeping here even safe?"
Silence.
"At least he can tell this much," Aeron muttered, rolling his eyes. He sat down, his thoughts restless as the fire crackled beside him.
Meanwhile, Back at the Prison…
Aamon's sword gleamed in the dim torchlight, its cold steel pressed against the trembling throat of the prison chief. The flickering flames cast harsh shadows across his furious expression.
"How did they escape?" Aamon's voice was low but seething with anger, each word dripping with menace.
Around him, the guards stood frozen, their fear palpable. Advisor Tharok sat in the corner, watching the scene unfold with a calculated gaze.
The prison chief swallowed hard, his body shaking. "They… they were too strong and too fast. We—we couldn't stop them."
Aamon's eyes darkened. He pressed the blade harder against the man's skin. "Are you telling me that a thousand soldiers couldn't stop two men?"
The chief flinched. "Please, my lord, they—"
With a swift motion, Aamon sliced through the man's arm. Blood sprayed across the stone floor as the chief let out a guttural scream, collapsing to his knees.
"Aaaaaah!" The agonized cry echoed through the prison halls.
Aamon barely looked at him. "Your incompetence is inexcusable."
The prison chief gasped for breath, his voice barely a whisper. "B-but… sir… they—they drowned… we saw them—"
Aamon's grip on his sword tightened. "Do you think they're that weak?" With a single brutal slash, he severed the chief's head. The body crumpled to the ground, blood pooling beneath it.
A moment of silence followed, the heavy scent of iron filling the room.
Tharok finally stood, his expression eerily calm. "Even if they survived, they will seek a blacksmith—one skilled enough to cut through that chain."
Aamon turned to him, his eyes still blazing with fury.
Tharok met his gaze. "They will most likely be in the town."
Aamon sheathed his sword. His voice was cold and resolute.
"Search every part of the continent. I want them found."
Two Days Later…
"I look like a criminal now. Oh wait—I am a criminal now. Thanks to you," Aeron muttered, glaring at Allesio.
The two of them walked through the bustling marketplace of Caltheris, their heads low, their faces hidden beneath the hoods of their tattered cloaks. The heavy chain binding them together was carefully wrapped around their wrists, forcing them to stay close—uncomfortably close—as they navigated through the crowd.
To anyone watching, they probably looked like a pair of lovers strolling side by side.
Aeron sighed. "Where is this blacksmith of yours?"
Silence.
"Come on, say something." Aeron's annoyance grew.
Still no answer.
He smirked, deciding to push his luck. "You know, you have a sweet voice."
Allesio shot him a sharp look.
People around them turned their heads, misinterpreting the comment. A few smirked. A couple of women giggled.
Aeron groaned, pulling his hood further down to hide his face. "How humiliating…"
But beside him, Allesio's expression changed. His mind drifted somewhere far away, to a voice from the past.
"Your voice is sweet," a blurry figure—a girl—whispered in his memories.
Allesio blinked the thought away. His voice was quieter when he finally spoke. "Across the path, there's an alley. We'll find him there."
Aeron nearly stumbled in shock. He turned to Allesio with exaggerated surprise. "He talked!" He grinned.
Allesio ignored him.
At the Blacksmith's House…
Without hesitation, Allesio pushed the door open.
Aeron blinked. "Shouldn't you, I don't know… knock first?"
Allesio didn't answer and simply stepped inside.
Before Aeron could protest further, a small figure rushed toward them. A child, no older than five, darted across the room, her tiny feet pattering against the wooden floor.
"Uncle's here!" the girl squealed with joy, throwing himself at Allesio's leg.
Aeron hesitated, watching the scene unfold. Something about the girl's excitement sent a pang through his chest. His mind drifted back to Veltharion Town—to the children he had played with, to Granny's gentle scolding. "I wonder how she's handling things now that I'm gone… I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye."
A gruff voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Who's there?"
An old man emerged from the shadows of the house. He was skinny, his face half-covered in an unkempt beard. His sharp, tired eyes landed on Allesio, and his expression immediately soured.
"Oh, it's you."
The disappointment in his voice was obvious.
"Why are you here?" the old man asked flatly.
"I have a job for you," Allesio stated.
The blacksmith scoffed. "I won't do it. Now get lost."
Aeron quickly stepped forward, hoping to ease the tension. "Please, sir. We really need your help."
The old man eyed him warily. "And who's this fella?"
"He got dragged into this mess because of me," Allesio answered.
The blacksmith let out a dry, bitter chuckle. "Ruining everyone's life along with your own, huh?"
Before Allesio could respond, the little girl tugged on the blacksmith's sleeve. "Grandpa, is Uncle staying?"
The old man sighed. "Hime, go inside and play with your toys."
The child—Hime—turned to Allesio, her eyes filled with hope. "Will you stay?"
Allesio's expression softened, if only for a second. He knelt down, ruffling the girl's hair. "Yes, little Hime. I'll stay."
Hime giggled, running back into her room, her laughter echoing through the small house.
The old man watched her go, then turned back to Allesio. His voice was cold, but laced with something deeper—something wounded.
"I will never forgive you for what you did to that poor little girl."
Aeron stiffened, stealing a glance at Allesio. "What did he do?"
The blacksmith exhaled heavily. "Come inside." His tone was neither welcoming nor outright hostile.
Aeron followed Allesio inside, his mind now burning with questions.
Inside the Workroom
The three of them sat in the blacksmith's cramped workroom. The space was cluttered—tools, unfinished weapons, and pieces of armor scattered across wooden shelves and workbenches. The air smelled of metal, soot, and old wood.
The old man leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "What do you want from me?"
Allesio didn't waste time. "Have you heard of the Cursed Chain of Eryndor?"
The old man's brow furrowed. "Yeah. What about it?"
In response, Aeron and Allesio lifted their arms, revealing the heavy, dark chain binding them together.
The old man's expression darkened instantly. "I can't help you with that."
Aeron tensed. "Why not?" His voice carried a hint of desperation.
"I don't want any trouble," the blacksmith said gruffly. "Not with that thing involved."
Aeron pushed himself up from his seat. "We'll make sure you're safe—"
"Even if I wanted to help you, I can't break that chain." The old man's voice was firm, final.
Silence hung between them.
Aeron and Allesio exchanged a glance before turning back to him.
"That chain," the old man continued, his voice lower now, "is forged from Obsidiansteel. Not only that, but it's reinforced with a high-class unbreaking spell." He sighed. "There's nothing I can do."
Aeron clenched his fists. "There has to be some way—"
"I'm sorry," the blacksmith interrupted. His voice softened slightly. "I can't help you."
He stood up, brushing dust off his apron. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to feed Hime."
Aeron took a step forward, but the old man was already walking away. "You two should leave now," he added over his shoulder as he walked through the doorway.
Aeron exhaled sharply.
His eyes scanned the room, stopping on the rows of weapons and tools displayed on the shelves. "At least we can take some stuff from here," he muttered.
On his way, the blacksmith raised a hand lazily, signaling his approval without turning back.
Aeron glanced at the weapons rack. His eyes darted from crude daggers to finely crafted blades. He let out a disappointed sigh. "They don't have guns here…"
Meanwhile, Allesio was already inspecting the finest sword in the collection. Its blade gleamed under the dim lantern light.
Aeron frowned. "Just because we don't have to pay doesn't mean you should pick the most expensive one."
Allesio barely looked at him. "I'll pay him later."
Aeron smirked. "Oh? In that case…" He grabbed a top-quality dagger and balanced it in his hand. "I'll take the best one too. That way, you'll have to pay double."
For the first time in days, Allesio cracked the faintest smirk.