Elara, nineteen and slender, had always moved like a shadow through the bustling streets of Ironvale. Her delicate frame made it easy to disappear behind crates, carts, and market stalls, and her quiet demeanor ensured she was rarely noticed. Born and raised in the city, she had spent her life learning blacksmithing at her grandfather's side whenever he visited. Her hands were steady, precise, and skilled, but her heart often wavered when danger loomed.
Known as "the quiet girl with strong hands," Elara could polish steel until it gleamed, mend broken blades, or carve intricate designs, yet she rarely dared to step into the crowd or face challenges beyond the forge. Beneath her reserved exterior, though, a quiet fire had always smoldered—a yearning to do more than craft weapons. She longed to wield them, to test herself against the wilds beyond the city, to hunt, and to feel the raw thrill of survival. The thought made her pulse quicken… but fear kept her rooted, anchored to the safety of Ironvale.
That fear ended at dawn.
While the streets still slumbered, Elara packed her bow, a quiver of arrows, and a bundle of forging tools wrapped carefully in cloth. Her parents slept peacefully, unaware of her departure. She paused at the doorway, guilt pricking her chest, before squaring her shoulders. I can't stay here forever… not if I want to grow.
Her destination was Ravenshire, a small village her grandfather, Coerl, had once called home. Though her father rarely spoke of it fondly, the place had always seemed like freedom to Elara. Narrow forest paths and quiet valleys awaited, a stark contrast to the roar of Ironvale's markets and forges.
The journey was not easy. Birds called from above, and occasionally, the distant rumble of a monster stirred her nerves. Each time, Elara froze, pressing herself into the shadows of rocks or trees until the sound faded. Her hands trembled around the bow, but each encounter taught her courage. I am not helpless. I can stand my ground if I must, she reminded herself.
Two days passed this way. Each mile tested her resolve and her stamina. The weight of her pack ached against her shoulders, her legs burned from climbing uneven terrain, yet pride accompanied every step. She was no longer the girl who hid behind others; she was the one moving forward, shaping her own path.
Finally, Ravenshire appeared on the ridge. Smoke spiraled lazily from chimneys, and the laughter of children drifted on the breeze. At the village's heart stood a forge, its chimney spewing a steady column of smoke, the rhythmic clanging of hammer against anvil ringing loud and clear. The sound was achingly familiar, and for a moment, Elara felt tears prick her eyes.
She descended into the village, bow slung across her shoulder, tools wrapped carefully in cloth. Curious glances followed her, but no one stopped her. Her heart beat faster with each step toward the forge, drawn by the steady pulse of the hammer.
There he was.
Coerl stood broad-shouldered before the anvil, hammer in hand, moving with practiced rhythm. Sparks flew with each strike, painting the air gold. When he looked up and saw her, his eyes widened in shock, hammer pausing midair.
"Elara…" His voice cracked, a mix of disbelief and recognition. Slowly, a smile spread across his weathered face, pride softening his features. "You came."
Elara's throat tightened, but she forced the words out. "I… I wanted to see you, Grandfather. And… I want to learn more. Blacksmithing, yes, but also hunting. I don't want to just make weapons—I want to wield them. To protect. To… to become strong."
The hammer lowered to the anvil with a dull thud. Coerl studied her carefully, eyes narrowing at her words. For a long moment, silence hung, broken only by the hiss of the forge.
"You want to be a hunter?" His voice was low, almost incredulous. "When did that flame spark in you, girl?"
Elara's cheeks flushed, and she chuckled softly, brushing back a stray strand of hair. "Maybe it was always there. I just… never had the courage to admit it before."
For a while, Coerl said nothing, weighing her resolve. Then, slowly, a nod. His expression softened. "You've grown, lass. More than I expected. Ravenshire may be small, but it has much to teach. If it's both the hammer and the bow you seek, then you'll learn them here. With me."
Elara felt her fear loosen its grip. Standing at the threshold of the forge, surrounded by the glow of fire and the scent of molten metal, a new chapter had begun.
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Hello, amazing readers! 👋
I hope you've been enjoying the story so far. After Chapter 50, I'll be uploading two chapters a day!
I have to admit, my imagination is running a little low 😅, but I'm still working hard to keep the story going and bring you fresh chapters. Thank you so much for sticking with me—your support means the world! 👊👊
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