The bell above the door chimed as they stepped out into the sunlight. Cain adjusted the coat over his shoulders, the new fabric catching the light with subtle violet glints. He followed closely behind Jayden, her arms were crossed, face set like stone. She didn't speak. She didn't need to.
He let her lead, at first. The city streets stretched before them, paved with smooth stone and lined with storefronts just beginning to open. The morning air still held a bite, but the sun was already climbing.
Jayden's steps were quick and precise.
The first shop was tucked between a tailor and a pastry stall, its sign carved with an ornate longsword and shield. She stepped inside without hesitation, Cain a silent shadow behind her.
The interior was cramped but well-kept. Racks of weapons lined the walls, polished and gleaming. A man behind the counter looked up with a grin that faltered when he saw Jayden's face.
"I need a replacement," she said, holding up the broken hilt of her sword.
He scratched his cheek. "Ah… we mostly sell ceremonial-grade and basic guard-standard weapons. Nothing enchanted. Not unless you're placing an order."
Jayden didn't respond. She turned and walked out without another word.
Cain followed.
The second shop was louder. Busier. Sparks flew in the back where a pair of apprentices hammered on a length of metal. Swords hung from hooks along the wall, most of them thin and flashy, designed to impress more than endure. Jayden scanned the collection, eyes sharp, jaw clenched.
The blacksmith came forward, wiping his hands on a soot-stained cloth. "Looking for something specific?"
Jayden held out the remains of her sword.
The man winced. "That… took a hit. I've got replicas, some alloy blends for show fights, but nothing real heavy-duty. Not without a wait."
She didn't wait. She was already leaving before he could finish.
Cain stayed silent.
The third shop was worse. All chrome plating and gaudy gemstones, runes etched with shaky hands and enchantments that looked like they had been slapped on by someone who read half a manual and guessed the rest. Jayden walked through it with growing disgust. She didn't bother asking questions.
By the fourth stop, her patience was fraying.
She looked over a row of supposedly high-grade longswords, testing the balance of one, only to find it handle-heavy and clumsy in her grip. She returned it to the rack harder than necessary.
Cain watched her. She hadn't spoken since the first rejection. Her silence now was different. Tighter. Like a lid barely holding back steam.
"You're not going to settle," he said.
Jayden didn't look at him. "Would you?"
"No."
She kept walking.
The fifth shop was smaller. Older. The kind of place that felt more like a forgotten archive than a merchant stall. The smith inside was ancient, beard like iron wire, one eye glazed over. He barely acknowledged them.
Jayden still checked the weapons.
She picked up a blade. Then another. Then another.
None of them felt right.
She didn't say anything. Just set the last one down, turned, and left.
Cain followed her back into the street, where the sun was higher and the morning crowd was starting to thicken.
She finally spoke, low and sharp. "This city is full of junk."
Cain looked around. "You're not wrong."
Jayden rubbed her hand across her face, irritation crackling just beneath her skin. She could feel it rising, not anger exactly, but something close. Something raw.
"I need a sword that won't snap when someone treats it like its made of candy."
"You'll get one," Cain said, calm as ever, his guilt about breaking the sword fading a little bit as she whined. .
She shot him a look. "From where?"
He didn't answer. Not right away.
They stood at a corner while a merchant caravan passed, the rattle of wheels over stone filling the silence.
Cain looked at her then. Spending a few hours with her had allowed him to get a relativve grasp on her personality and what she was feeling.
She was frustrated and sullen. The weapon he broke had truly meant a lot to her. Letting out a sigh of defeat, he started walking again.
"Fine. Let's keep going."
The city thinned the further they walked, the noise of the crowd softening behind them. Shopfronts turned older, more worn down. Paint peeled from wooden signs. Cracks split the cobbles underfoot. No banners hung from the buildings. No flowers in the windows. This part of the city was forgotten.
After dozens of failures, Jayden looked ready to call it quits.
Cain came to a stop in front of a narrow shop wedged between two shuttered stalls. A crooked wooden sign hung above the door, barely clinging to its frame. Whatever name had once been etched there had long since faded, but there was a faint engraving of a sword wreathed in flame.
Jayden stared. "This place looks like it sells nothing but defects."
Cain was already reaching for the door. "Looks can be deceiving."
The bell overhead gave a dull, hollow ring as they stepped inside.
It was dark. Warm. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of scorched metal. Dust floated in lazy beams of light that crept through gaps in the boarded windows. The weapons displayed looked like rejects. A chipped axe. A sword with a warped blade. A spear whose tip had gone black with rust.
Jayden scoffed. "Wonderful. Trash and more trash."
But Cain didn't answer. His eyes were already climbing.
Mounted high above the counter were twin swords. Simple, unassuming, but balanced to perfection. No gem inlay. No runes. No excessive polish. Just steel that hummed with quiet menace. Cain narrowed his eyes. There was something about them. Something he couldn't explain.
Jayden was still looking around when a low voice came from the back.
Footsteps.
Then a woman stepped into view, tall and barefoot, skin kissed bronze from the forge. Her chest was bound with white bandages, a cigarette dangling from her lips. Soot smudged her arms. Her black hair was pulled into a rough ponytail, and she wore only a pair of low-cut shorts and an expression that said she had no time for nonsense.
She paused when she saw them. Took a drag from the cigarette.
Then exhaled.
"What are you brats doing in here?"
Cain didn't flinch. "Those twin swords above the till. Are they for sale?"
The woman looked up. She blinked, as if surprised he had even noticed them. Then her expression cooled.
"No."
She said it flatly and turned her attention elsewhere.
Jayden had already drifted to the back of the room. Her eyes had caught something. A greatsword, propped against the far wall in a slanted stand. It was longer than she was tall, forged in a strange crimson hue that shimmered faintly under the dust. Unlike the others, it had no sign of damage, not a scratch or blemish.
She reached out.
Her fingers wrapped around the hilt. She lifted.
It came up smoothly, no resistance. She held it in one hand. Tested the weight. Spun it once, then again.
It moved like an extension of her body.
The blacksmith turned. Froze.
"That thing's not decorative," she said slowly. "It was made to be heavy. Really heavy. You're not supposed to be able to hold it like that."
"I want it."
The faint sparkle in Jayden's eyes was all Cain needed to know.
"How much for the sword?"
Cain had already pulled out his card as Jayden began to think to herself.
'It's good to know a Prince huh.'