Chapter 42: Silver Dawn's Return (5.4k words)
Meanwhile...
—Adventures Guild—
Celeste sat behind the front desk of the guild, papers scattered across her workspace. Her hand moved mechanically as she filled out forms, but her expression betrayed the storm in her mind. Her brows were furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. Her eyes drifted to the large clock on the wall for the tenth time that hour.
"It's already afternoon," she thought anxiously. "Still no sign of them." Her pen paused, and she closed her eyes briefly. "Even though the Knight Captain is helping them, I can't rest easy. What if something happened to them? No... it's my fault for giving them that quest. It was too dangerous for them. Please… please, gods, bring them back alive."
Then—
The guild doors creaked open.
She didn't look up at first—it could've been anyone. But then the noise changed. A collective gasp. Murmurs spread like wildfire. Chairs scraped, boots thudded. People were moving—gathering. Her eyes snapped toward the entrance.
Leon stepped in first, calm as ever, his armor stained and dusty but his posture firm. Behind him were Mira, Elara, and Arthur—tired, a little roughed up, but standing.
And with them—the Crimson Talons.
The room froze for a moment before erupting into noise. Guild members rushed forward.
"Hey, you're all alive?!"
"What happened out there?"
"You guys look like hell—but you're breathing!"
Celeste's heart leapt into her throat. She stood, then without thinking, dashed around the desk. Her heels clicked rapidly against the floor as she ran toward them. Her voice cracked, "You guys… you came back alive!"
Leon looked at her, offering a gentle smile that barely reached his eyes. "Of course we did. Who do you think we are?"
"Haha, did you really think we'd go down that easily?" Arthur added with a shaky laugh, though his knees looked like they might give out any moment.
Mira, brushing twigs from her hair, smirked. "Wait, wait… is our usually cold receptionist actually worried about us? Wow. That's rare."
"N-No! I wasn't worried about you!" Celeste stammered, though her voice was softer than usual.
"She definitely was," Mira whispered loudly to Elara, nudging her side.
Elara gave a small smile. "We're grateful either way."
Leon turned to look around, scanning the room. "Now that everyone's safe… can you all calm down a little?" he asked the gathering crowd. "Also, where's Kael?"
"He went to deliver the core to the merchant's house," Celeste replied, brushing a tear from her cheek before anyone could notice. "He should be back soon."
"Good. Then we'll wait for him," Leon nodded.
Celeste cleared her throat and straightened up, though her voice was softer than usual. "Alright, enough chattering in the middle of the lobby. You guys should come with me. The Guildmaster… he was really worried about you."
Leon gave her a reassuring nod. "Of course. We'll see him first."
"But after that," Mira piped up with a grin, "we are definitely throwing a party, right? We earned it!"
Leon let out a soft chuckle as they began walking. "Yeah. I think we did."
Arthur stretched, wincing slightly. "I want soup. And a warm bed. In that order."
"And I want cake," Mira added, already tugging on Elara's arm with enthusiasm.
Elara sighed but followed, her expression easing. "You never change."
As the group moved toward the staircase behind Celeste, the tension in the lobby began to lift. People returned to their seats, conversations resumed—this time lighter, filled with relief. Laughter sparked here and there, hesitant but hopeful.
Celeste didn't return to her desk. Instead, she silently guided the others up the wooden staircase. Their footsteps echoed softly as they ascended to the second floor of the guild. The hallway above was quiet—only the fading murmurs from below reached them. The air here was different. Not heavy with danger, but with formality and unspoken weight. This was where decisions were made. Where the Guildmaster worked.
At the end of the hallway stood a sturdy wooden door, darkened from years of use. Celeste stepped forward, brushing her skirt straight with nervous fingers, and knocked gently.
Knock. Knock.
"Sir, the Silver Dawn party is back," she said clearly, though her voice was still laced with emotion. "And safe."
A pause. Then a low voice, calm and deep, came from inside. "Send them in."
She looked back at them and nodded once before opening the door and stepping aside.
Leon entered first, his movements calm and respectful. Mira followed, hands clasped behind her head, still humming some tune. Elara walked silently beside Arthur, who hesitated briefly before stepping in.
The Guildmaster's office was modest—not large, but well-kept. A tall window stretched across the back wall, letting in soft evening light that spilled onto the desk, which was covered in neatly arranged documents. A few bookshelves lined the sides, filled with old tomes, maps, and scrolls. The room smelled faintly of ink and aged paper.
Behind the desk sat the Guildmaster.
He was a man of around fifty, with streaks of silver in his dark hair and eyes that had seen more than most adventurers could imagine. Despite the formal black coat he wore, there was nothing overly grand about him. Just presence—calm, reserved, and quietly powerful.
"I'm truly glad to see you all," the Guildmaster said, rising briefly in respect before settling back into his chair. "You've returned safely. That alone is worth more than any report."
Leon bowed his head. "Thank you, Guildmaster. But we owe that safety to Captain Seraphina. Without her, we wouldn't be standing here now."
The Guildmaster's lips curved into a faint smile. "Yes… Captain Seraphina. I'll be sure a letter of gratitude reaches her. We're fortunate to have a Knight Captain of her caliber. It's rare to see someone in her position take on such grounded and selfless responsibilities."
"Yes. But when we spoke to her, she didn't seem anything like the terrifying person people make her out to be," Leon added with a faint chuckle. "She was actually quite kind to us."
"That's precisely why one shouldn't place too much faith in gossip," the Guildmaster said calmly. "They likely call her that because of her rigorous training methods—and the sheer extent of her power."
"I see." Leon replied.
Then the Guildmaster's gaze moved across them, lingering on the fatigue etched into their faces and the tension that hadn't yet faded from their shoulders.
"Is there anything else?" he asked gently. "Any details I should know?"
Leon exchanged a glance with his companions before returning his gaze to the Guildmaster. His tone remained composed, but held a trace of caution.
"Forgive us, Guildmaster... we've been asked not to speak of the specifics. Captain Seraphina will report to you directly. She felt that sharing more now might cause unnecessary concern—at least until she can explain everything clearly."
"I see," the Guildmaster said softly, his eyes narrowing—not with suspicion, but with understanding. "That does sound like her. Wise, as always. I'll hear it from her later."
He leaned back slightly, folding his hands over a parchment on the desk. "Still, you have my deepest gratitude. Many parties turned down that quest—some out of fear, others simply pragmatic. But your team… you accepted without hesitation. You risked your lives for a little girl. For that, thank you. Truly."
Leon was quiet for a moment, then replied with quiet conviction, "We are adventurers, sir. The day we accepted that title, we accepted everything it meant. Risk. Sacrifice. If even one life depends on us… then to hesitate is to fail."
The Guildmaster regarded him silently for a long moment, before giving a slow nod. "It's been a long time since I've heard words like that spoken with sincerity."
Mira, for once, had nothing to say. Even she could feel the weight in the room.
Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "We just… couldn't walk away. Not when it mattered."
The Guildmaster offered a small, appreciative smile. "The world needs more like you. Brave, even when unsure. Loyal, even in fear."
His eyes turned to Celeste, who stood silently to the side. "Celeste, give them their reward. Whatever we promised—see that it's delivered. And make sure the Crimson Talons receive their share as well."
"Yes, sir," she said with a nod, turning to carry out the order.
Leon gave a final bow. "We're grateful, Guildmaster. Not just for the reward… but for the trust."
"You've earned it," the Guildmaster said quietly. Then, turning his gaze toward the window, his voice took on a distant tone. "Let's just hope whatever Captain Seraphina is planning… can be handled before it runs deeper."
A silence hung in the room for a breath.
Then the Guildmaster straightened, his presence returning like a cloak settling across his shoulders. "Go rest. You've done more than enough."
Leon turned to the others. "Come on. Let's leave him to his work."
They filed out in silence. The Guildmaster watched them go, a rare sense of peace flickering in his eyes.
Evening had fallen by the time Leon and the others returned to the guild hall.
---
—Knight Orders Office—
The wind stirred gently before the grand double doors of the Knight Order's office, catching the trailing edge of Seraphina's long silver hair as she arrived. Her boots came to a stop against the stone pavement with deliberate grace. She stood tall, spine straight, shoulders squared, like a statue carved from frost and steel. A quiet sigh left her lips—barely audible above the hush of dusk.
"Evening already... It was wise of me to inform Lyra of my departure," she mused inwardly, gaze briefly shifting to the golden sky above. "Had I not, the entire city might have erupted in panic. I sometimes forget—I am no longer just a Knight. I am the Knight Captain now."
As she stepped forward, the heavy door creaked open just enough to let her pass. The moment she crossed the threshold, the atmosphere changed.
"Captain on deck!" someone called instinctively.
Every knight she passed halted what they were doing and stood to attention, fists over hearts, their postures snapping into formality. Seraphina offered them only the barest nod—a quiet acknowledgment, regal and restrained—before continuing down the corridor.
Waiting for her just beyond the foyer was Lyra, poised and ready, as always.
"Forgive me, Lyra," Seraphina said, her tone level and distant, though not unkind. "It seems I've burdened you with far too much work once again."
Lyra straightened up quickly. "No, it's quite alright, Captain." But then, curiosity slipped into her voice. "Though... if I may ask—what took you so long?"
Seraphina's boots echoed softly as she resumed her pace, prompting Lyra to walk alongside her.
"The explanation is long," she said, her gaze fixed forward. "And laced with more nuisance than merit. I shall explain it in full once I've reviewed today's reports. Still, I thank you. You always anticipate what I leave unsaid. Your loyalty is... dependable."
"Don't mention it, Captain. I'm just doing my duty." Lyra replied quickly. "Speaking of reports—Lieutenant Arwyn returned a short while ago."
"I saw her." Seraphina's reply was sharp and brief.
"Oh? Did you speak with her?"
Seraphina's steps didn't falter, but her eyes narrowed slightly. "No. She appeared... otherwise occupied. Engaged in something rather uncharacteristic."
Lyra tilted her head. "Uncharacteristic?"
Seraphina's gaze shifted, her eyes narrowing slightly, recalling the moment she glimpsed through the stained-glass window of the coffee house.
"She was having a coffee with a young man. Laughing. Smiling. A rare sight. I did not wish to intrude upon... whatever that was." Seraphina said coolly.
Lyra stopped walking, eyes wide. "What? Wait—what are you saying? The Lieutenant... was on a date?"
Seraphina's jaw tensed, though she kept walking. "That is what it appeared to be."
"No way," Lyra gasped. "Our Lieutenant? With a boy? That can't be true. She hates boys—she always has!"
Seraphina halted mid-step and turned her head slightly—just enough for Lyra to see her eyes. They were sharp. Cold. But not empty. They carried something... unreadable.
"Do you believe I would lie to you?"
"N-No, Captain. I would never doubt your words," Lyra stammered. "It's just—this is all so shocking. Do you know the boy she was with?"
Seraphina faced forward again, her expression hardening like steel chilled in snow.
"No," she said. "I most certainly do not know him."
"But... why are you looking at me like that?" Lyra asked, her voice suddenly meek. "Captain, your face—it's a bit terrifying right now."
Seraphina stepped toward her office with each precise stride. She didn't look back.
"Is it?" she said, voice smooth like ice over water. "How unfortunate."
She vanished behind the polished oak doors with a soft thud, leaving behind silence and the slow thrum of unease.
---
—Adventurers Guild—
Celeste walked to her desk, reached into a drawer, and pulled out a heavy pouch that clinked with coins. With a satisfied nod, she placed it on the table before Leon and the others.
"Here's your five thousand coins," she said, her usual professional tone softening slightly. Then, she pulled out another, smaller pouch. "And this is a bonus from the guild for accepting the emergency quest so quickly."
Leon blinked, surprised. Mira's eyes sparkled.
"Ohhh... bonus! I love the word bonus," Mira said as she grabbed the pouch with both hands like it was a newborn baby. "This almost makes up for nearly dying out there."
Leon chuckled softly and accepted the money. "Thank you, Celeste."
The group shuffled over to a nearby table, dragging their sore bodies into the seats like sacks of potatoes. Boots thunked on wood, armor clinked, and exhausted sighs filled the air.
Mira dropped into her chair with a dramatic groan, stretching her arms over her head. "Well, I'd say all of that pain was worth it," she said with a grin. "With this much coin, we can finally take it easy for a few weeks. Sleep like kings, eat like nobles, and bathe more than once a week. What a luxury."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You bathe once a week?"
"Shut up, Arthur."
Leon didn't laugh. He just stared at the table, fingers tightening into fists.
"Let's do that, then," he said quietly, barely above the clinking of nearby mugs.
Mira blinked, her grin faltering. "Wait—I was joking! You know, take a break, drink some mead, sleep in till noon, maybe pick a bar fight or two if the innkeeper's cute."
"But I'm not joking," Leon said, voice steady and low. "I've been thinking… and honestly, I don't think I'm good enough to lead this party. I don't deserve to be your leader."
Instantly, the air at the table turned from light to heavy.
"Wait, back up—what the hell are you talking about?" Mira's voice dropped, her earlier teasing gone like smoke.
Leon didn't answer her. Didn't even glance up.
"Leon?" Elara leaned forward, her voice a whisper, tight with emotion. "We already talked about this. You said you were okay. You promised."
"I thought I was fine," he said, eyes fixed on a scratch on the table. "But after what happened… after I saw how close we all came to losing everything, I realized I'm still lacking. I became your leader so I could protect you. But I'm weak—"
Slaaap!
A deafening smack rang out.
Half the guild stopped mid-sentence. A bard missed a chord. A mug hit the floor.
Leon's head turned slightly from the force of the slap. His cheek reddened. Elara stood there, trembling, hand still in the air like she couldn't believe it had acted without her permission.
Mira leapt up. "Elara?! What the hell?!"
Arthur's mouth hung open. "W-Wait—did she just—"
"Since when does Elara slap people?!" Mira looked genuinely alarmed, like she'd just seen a bunny summon a fireball.
"I—I didn't mean to!" Elara's eyes widened in horror. "I just—I don't even know what just happened! It was like—like my arm betrayed me!"
Leon blinked, then calmly reached up and rubbed his cheek. "You slap pretty hard."
"I'm so sorry!" Elara gasped. "I wasn't thinking! I just—I saw you spiraling into that 'I'm a burden' nonsense again and—and my hand just moved!"
"I probably deserved that," Leon said, cracking a small smile. "But listen—I'm not quitting. I just want a month to train. Alone. So I can come back better… stronger. That's all."
The table went dead silent again.
Even Mira didn't say anything right away.
Arthur opened his mouth, closed it, then finally said, "So… all that dramatic buildup… the speech, the slap, the whole 'I'm not worthy' vibe… was just you asking for some training leave?"
Leon shrugged, suddenly sheepish. "Pretty much."
Arthur's head dropped to the table with a loud thunk. "I thought you were gonna leave forever, wander into the mountains, grow a beard, and start talking to wolves."
Mira let out a breathy laugh. "You scared the crap out of me, idiot. I was this close to crying. Crying. And now you tell us it's a sabbatical?"
"I wanted to say it better. I panicked halfway through," Leon admitted.
Meanwhile, Elara had both hands clamped over her face. "I slapped him in front of everyone. The whole guild. I'm going to crawl into a cave and never come out."
Arthur leaned over to Mira, whispering loudly, "Did you see her face when she did it? Like a lightning spell hit her soul."
"Shut. Up," Elara hissed, face burning bright enough to power a lantern.
Leon looked around the table. Despite everything—despite his outburst, the slap, the stunned silence—they were all still there. Still with him.
"I didn't mean to scare you," he said. "But I needed to be honest. Can you give me a month? Just one month, and I'll come back right here. This table."
Arthur let out a dramatic sigh. "Fine, but if you're not back in a month, I'm tracking you down and dragging you back myself. And I'll bring snacks. Bad ones."
"One month from today," Elara said, lowering her hands at last. Her voice had steadied. "You better come back stronger."
Leon nodded. "I will."
The guild noise slowly returned, chatter and laughter picking up as people realized no fight was breaking out after all.
"Also," Mira muttered, glancing sidelong at Elara, "Next time you feel the urge to slap someone, maybe aim for Arthur. He's like, 80% slapable on a good day."
"Hey!" Arthur squawked. "What did I do?!"
"Nothing," Mira said with a sly smile. "You just have a very punchable vibe."
"That's not better!"
"Tension lifted," Leon mumbled.
"Oh, shut up," Elara said without heat.
Just then, Kael walked into the guild. This time, no one whispered behind his back or mocked him. They simply glanced, then looked away—quiet, awkward. There was a shared, unspoken feeling: maybe they had judged him too harshly before.
Kael made his way to Celeste.
"You're late," she said without looking up. "They've already returned."
"I figured." He handed her a sealed parchment. "Here. Confirmation from the Merchant."
Celeste took it, read it quickly, then gave a small nod. "Everything's in order. You're free to go."
Kael turned around and spotted the group across the guild hall—Leon, Mira, Elara, and Arthur gathered around a table, talking quietly.
Mira glanced up and nudged Elara. "Hey, look who finally decided to show up."
Leon looked over and gave a small nod. "Took your time."
Kael approached, offering a faint, almost unreadable smile. "It's good to see you guys all again."
"Sit down first," Leon said, gesturing to the empty seat. "We'll talk after."
Kael quietly took the seat and reached into his cloak. He set a small leather pouch on the table. "Extra payment. From the Merchant. Said we earned it."
Mira's eyes widened. "Wait—again? Looks like we can definitely rest easy for a few weeks."
Elara let out a soft laugh, and even Leon chuckled under his breath.
Leon leaned back, folding his arms. "Thanks for sending Captain Seraphina."
Kael shook his head slightly. "Don't thank me. I wasn't much help during the fight. Sending her was the least I could do."
Elara smiled gently. "Still, we're grateful."
Mira leaned back, grinning. "Yeah, yeah. We'll take your 'least' over most people's 'best' any day."
There was a quiet moment, not heavy, but full.
Kael then reached into his pocket again and placed a small pouch in front of Elara. "Looks like I couldn't gave it to your brother."
Elara's brows lifted in surprise. "Oh—thank you." She gave him a soft smile that lingered longer than most would.
Next, he turned to Mira, pulling out a familiar silver locket and setting it down with care. "Your locket."
Mira blinked, then gently picked it up. "I thought this was gone for good..." Her voice lowered for a moment before she smirked. "You're full of surprises, you know that?"
Arthur, who had been quietly watching, raised an eyebrow when Kael extended a dagger toward him.
"I believe this is yours," Kael said, voice as quiet as ever.
Arthur nodded, accepting it with a respectful tilt of his head. "Didn't think I'd see this again. Thanks."
Finally, Kael held out a ring and offered it to Leon.
Leon took it with both hands, silently, then exhaled through his nose. "You carried all of this back?"
Kael said nothing, but his eyes flicked briefly to Leon's. That was enough.
Leon cleared his throat, setting the ring beside his cup. "Alright," he said, voice steady again. "Let's sort the payment."
"Wait, I want the biggest share for emotional damage," Mira interrupted, grinning.
"You always say that," Elara murmured.
"Because I always have emotional damage!" Mira shot back with mock outrage, but her grin never faded.
Kael leaned back slightly, watching them with a quiet gaze. For once, he said nothing at all—but stayed.
Then Leon pushed the heavy pouch aside—five thousand coins, judging by weight alone. Then he opened the other two and began counting. Arthur joined him. The soft, steady rhythm of clinking gold soon filled the table.
The coins were all golden, yet varied in size and value. Some matched the standard—about a fingertip wide—while others were slightly larger, thicker, and heavier. Each bore the emblem of the Kingdom: a phoenix rising from a bed of flame, wings outstretched in a circle of fire. Beneath the emblem, fine engravings marked each coin's denomination.
There were six types of gold coins in circulation, all sharing the same motif but differing in size and worth:
1. Flame Gold Coin – The smallest and most common, worth 1 gold. About the size of a thumbnail, it's used for everyday transactions.
2. Blaze Gold Coin – Slightly larger and thicker, worth 10 gold. Roughly the size of a button, it's popular among merchants.
3. Ember Gold Coin – Worth 20 gold. A practical mid-tier coin, used for larger purchases or wages.
4. Pyre Gold Coin – Valued at 50 gold. Heavier and less common, it's typically used in bulk trade or military payrolls.
5. Inferno Gold Coin – A wide, weighty piece worth 100 gold. Though it still fits in a pouch, it's rarely seen in casual trade.
6. Ember Gold Coin – The largest of the standard coins, worth 500 gold. Reserved for noble dealings, taxes, and major transactions; only the wealthiest typically carry them.
"10, 30, 130, 230, …"
"100, 200, 300…"
After a few minutes, Leon nodded. "Alright. Got fifteen hundred here."
Arthur glanced at his share. "Thousand even."
Leon looked up. "That makes it fifteen hundred each. Fair?"
"Sounds good," Elara said calmly.
Mira's eyes lit up. "That's like… a full month's earnings in one day."
They divided the money, handing each person their share. With that done, Mira flagged a nearby server. "Food. And wine. We deserve it."
Soon, plates of warm food and mugs of rich wine filled the table.
Leon took a long drink, exhaling with satisfaction. "Now this—this is living."
The others joined in, raising their mugs. Except Kael, who sat with his arms crossed, barely touching anything.
Leon noticed. He leaned in slightly, his voice lower. "Not drinking?"
Kael gave a small shake of his head. "I don't drink." But in his mind, a quiet thought echoed: "Even if I wanted to… it'd be my last. My wife would kill me."
Arthur snorted. "Good kid."
Kael's lips twitched into a subtle smile. "Something like that."
After a pause, Leon spoke again, more serious this time. "There's something you should know, Kael. We've decided to take a break— just a month. We need time to breathe."
Kael looked at him, expression unreadable as ever. "Alright. You've earned it."
Leon nodded slowly. "When the month's over… will you be joining us again?"
"Of course. I'd love to." Kael stood, slipping his pouch back into his pocket. "Well, see you guys in a month later."
"See you." Leon nodded.
Kael gave them one last look—a calm, distant smile—then turned and walked toward the guild doors, his steps quiet and unhurried.
Outside the guild, dusk had already begun to settle. The sky burned orange, fading into deep blue. He stepped forward—heading once again toward the market. This time, with 1,500 gold in his pouch.
"Now that I've got coins, I can make something warm and special for her," he thought.
He stopped by a nearby vegetable stall and picked up fresh carrots, onions, garlic, and a few firm potatoes. Then, at the butcher's, he purchased a generous cut of tender boar meat and a bundle of bone marrow for extra flavor.
With his hands full and heart slightly lighter, he began walking back toward their mansion, the promise of a warm stew guiding his steps.
---
—Knight Orders Office—
Magic light flickered softly against the polished wood of the desk as Seraphina completed the final strokes on two separate parchments. Her handwriting was precise—measured, almost mechanical. Without hesitation, she signed each document and pressed the seal of the Knight Order beneath her name. The emblem shimmered faintly as the wax cooled.
With quiet finality, she set both parchments aside. Across the room, Lyra stood at attention, her posture rigid but her eyes inquisitive.
"Deliver these," Seraphina said, her voice calm and clipped, "to the Warden General and the Guildmaster. Personally."
Lyra stepped forward, accepting them with care. "Yes, Captain… but—if I may—why the Warden General? I mean no disrespect, but… if he's involved, does that mean something serious is happening?"
Seraphina's gaze lingered on her for a moment—measured, unreadable. Then, with a subtle turn, her gloved fingers brushed the edge of the desk.
"It would seem so," she replied coolly. "You already know about the murder—no trace, no motive, no witnesses. And today, an unknown man has died saving a party. I know little about him—but I have to find his family."
Her voice didn't waver, but something behind it tightened. A flicker of resolve, barely visible.
Lyra nodded slowly, the weight of her captain's words settling in. "Understood, Captain. I'll deliver them at once."
Seraphina reached for another parchment—this one different, heavier in tone. Her pen moved swiftly, but the language was more formal. Orders, not reports. At the bottom, she signed her name, pressed the seal, and paused.
"Order them on the list," she said, voice steady. "And inform them I'm temporarily establishing an Emergency Retrieval Unit. Lieutenant Arwyn will command it."
Lyra's brow lifted slightly, but she didn't interrupt.
"I want the body of the creature retrieved by tomorrow afternoon. Quietly. No civilians, no attention. If that's not possible, report back to me directly. The dungeon is already restricted." She handed Lyra the parchment. "This has everything they'll need."
"Yes, Captain," Lyra replied. She hesitated for just a moment. "Will you be heading home after this?"
Seraphina closed the drawer of her desk with a soft click. Straightening, she fastened her cloak, movements smooth and efficient.
"No," she said. "There's somewhere else I must go first."
She turned, striding toward the door with quiet purpose. As she passed, Lyra stepped aside and snapped to attention, offering a crisp salute.
When the door closed behind her, the room felt colder.
Left alone, Lyra let out a slow breath. Her fingers tightened slightly around the documents.
"What is going on…?" she murmured. Her eyes lingered on the sealed parchment, unease stirring beneath her calm. "I can't read her. But something is definitely wrong."
---
—Velhart Town—Southern District—
The evening light faded gently, leaving soft shadows stretching through the narrow, stone-paved alleys of the Southern District. A chill wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the faint scent of soot and forge smoke. Lanterns flickered alive one by one as dusk settled in.
Seraphina stood in front of a modest, weather-worn house nestled between two others. Her silver armor glinted dully in the fading light. Her posture was poised, noble—yet the slight furrow of her brow hinted at urgency.
She stepped forward and knocked on the heavy wooden door. "Is someone there?" Her voice, though calm, carried weight.
There was no response.
She glanced at a small parchment in her hand, her gloved fingers tightening slightly.
"This is his house, right?" she murmured to herself.
She knocked again—firmer this time. "Grimdur. It's me."
A series of clinks and rustles came from within. Then, slowly, the door creaked open. A short, broad-shouldered man stood behind it—his beard thick and braided, streaked with grey and soot. His hair, long and wild, was tied loosely at the back. His face was marked by years at the forge—leathery skin, a scar above one brow, and eyes like molten iron, always observing.
"Captain?" His voice was gravelly, deep with a trace of surprise. "By the gods, what brings you to my doorstep? You could've summoned me. I would've been there in an hour."
Seraphina nodded once. "No. I preferred to come in person."
Grimdur Ironfist—master swordsmith, one of the best dwarves smith in Velhart—stepped aside with a grunt. "Then come in, come in. Don't stand out in this cursed wind."
She entered without a word, her boots clicking softly on the stone floor. Inside, the air was thick with iron and oil. Tables cluttered with half-finished hilts, blades, blueprints, and tools filled the room. Weapon racks lined the walls, though many were covered in cloth or dust.
Grimdur closed the door behind her. "I'd offer tea… or maybe some firebrew, but I get the feeling you ain't here to chat."
She shook her head. "No. Please don't bother. I won't stay long. It's already late."
He eyed her a moment, then lumbered over to his workbench, wiping his hands on a blackened cloth."So," he said, sitting on a creaky stool, "Let me guess. You want your blade reforged?
"No. I didn't come for my sword." Her gaze swept the room, then settled on him. "Your sword still serves me well. I'm here for another reason."
"Another reason?" Grimdur arched a brow, stroking his beard. "Well, that piques my curiosity."
She reached into her tasset cloak and unfolded a parchment, handing it to him silently.
Grimdur took it with thick fingers and began to read, his eyes narrowing with each line. The light from a nearby forge lamp danced on his weathered face as he muttered to himself.
He looked up. "You want these made?"
She nodded. "Can't you make them?"
A long pause. Then the dwarf leaned back, letting out a low whistle. "Of course I can. I make this kind of thing, after all. But it'll take time—if you want them built with high quality materials".
"How long?"
He considered. "Two weeks. Maybe a day more if I can't find certain alloys locally."
"I can work with that," she replied without hesitation. "How much?"
Grimdur scratched his head, muttered a few numbers, then finally said, "Around 35,000 gold coins."
Seraphina's expression barely changed. She reached into her cloak again and pulled out a heavy pouch, placing it on the table. "Half. The rest, after completion."
Grimdur accepted it with a grunt of approval. "Still a woman of her word. Thank you, Captain."
But his curiosity got the better of him. He glanced down at the parchment again, then back at her. "You've always paid generously, Captain. But… I understand a new sword… but these other things…" He trailed off, looking at her more seriously. "You sure about all this?"
Her eyes, cool and unreadable, met his. "I am. But I suggest not sending these to my office; I'll come personally for them."
He held her gaze for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Fair enough. I don't ask questions, I don't want answers to."
She nodded once, then stepped out into the cold night without another word.
Grimdur stared at the closed door, then looked down at the parchment again.
"Strange times," he muttered, setting it carefully beside his tools. "And stranger requests…"
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(Chapter Ended)