As the starship's engine cooled behind them, Gareth led Lin Che, Su Qing, Mo Ying, and Xiao Ya to his cottage— a small, cozy space with a stone hearth and walls lined with iron tools he'd forged over the years. Above the mantel hung a framed photograph: a younger Gareth with his father, both smiling beside the very same forge that now hummed with life again.
"This was him," Gareth said, tapping the photo. "Taught me everything. Said a blacksmith's job isn't just to make metal sharp—it's to keep the village sharp. Keep them going." He paused, staring at the tools on the wall. "When the bellows broke, I felt like I'd let that down. Like I couldn't keep the village going anymore."
Xiao Ya wandered to the window, where a potted rosemary plant sat on the sill. Its leaves were wilted, but when she brushed her hand over them, they perked up, glowing faintly green. "Plants wilt sometimes, too," she said, turning to Gareth. "But you water them, give them sun—they grow back. You just needed a little 'water' for your forge. And for yourself."
Gareth smiled, a soft, genuine one this time. "Yeah. I guess I did."
That night, the village of Hazelton came alive. Villagers brought pies, jars of jam, and loaves of bread to the square, where they built a bonfire. Gareth lit it with a spark from his forge, the flames leaping high as the bellows (now fully tested and perfect) pumped air to feed them. Children danced around the fire, while adults talked and laughed—something they hadn't done since the forge broke.
Mia, the farmer, pulled Lin Che aside, holding a small sack of corn seeds. "These are for you," she said. "The best we have. Plant them wherever you go—remind yourself that even small things grow into something big. Like your help—small at first, but it grew into our harvest being saved."
Lin Che took the sack, thanking her. Beside him, Su Qing and Mo Ying were talking to Gareth, who was showing them a blueprint for a new plow he wanted to forge—"Stronger than the old ones," he said, "so the farmers don't have to replace them for years." Su Qing was pointing to the blueprint, suggesting Arcane runes to make the metal more durable, while Mo Ying nodded, offering to help reinforce the wooden handles.
Xiao Ya sat on a log by the fire, surrounded by children. She was teaching them how to talk to plants—how to hold a leaf gently, how to listen for the soft "hum" of life. One little girl, Lila (no relation to the one from Willow Hamlet), gasped when a dandelion she was holding bloomed, its petals unfurling under her touch. "It heard me!" she said, eyes wide.
Xiao Ya grinned. "Of course it did. Everything listens if you're kind."
As the bonfire died down, Gareth pulled Lin Che aside. He was holding a small iron key, its surface etched with tiny runes—ones Su Qing had taught him that afternoon. "This is for the forge," he said. "If you ever come back, you can use it. Any time. The forge is yours, too—for whatever you need."
Lin Che took the key, its metal warm from Gareth's hand. "Thank you. We'll come back. I promise."
The next morning, they packed the starship—now with a new enchanted horseshoe on its wheel, a sack of corn seeds, and a small iron key tucked into Lin Che's pocket. Gareth walked them to the meadow, where the starship sat, glinting in the morning sun.
"Take care of yourselves," he said, shaking each of their hands. To Mo Ying, he added, "Thanks for fixing the bellows. You're a better mechanic than you know." To Su Qing: "Thanks for the runes. They'll make my work last." To Xiao Ya: "Thanks for the rosemary. It's growing like crazy now." And to Lin Che: "Thanks for reminding me why I do this."
They climbed aboard, waving. Gareth stood in the meadow, watching them, until the starship rose into the sky and disappeared over the horizon.
Inside the cabin, Xiao Ya held up the dandelion Lila had given her—it was still blooming, bright and yellow. "Hazelton's happy now," she said. "The forge is happy. The plants are happy. Everyone's happy."
Su Qing flipped open Elder Gao's map, pointing to a village marked "Pine Creek." "Next stop," she said. "Their bridge is out—connects the village to the market. Without it, they can't sell their apples. And apple season starts in a week."
Mo Ying grinned, adjusting the starship's controls. "Bridges, huh? I fixed a bellows, I can fix a bridge. Especially with Xiao Ya's plants to hold the wood together."
Lin Che looked out the window, at the fields and forests stretching below. The corn seeds in his sack felt heavy, but in a good way—like a promise. The iron key in his pocket felt warm, like a memory. The Star Marrow on his wrist glowed softly, steady and bright.
This was their journey now: not grand battles, but small acts of kindness. Not saving the world in one go, but saving a village's harvest, a blacksmith's purpose, a child's joy in a blooming dandelion.
"Pine Creek," he said, smiling. "Let's go make them happy, too."
The starship turned east, toward the rising sun. Ahead, a new village waited. A new problem. A new chance to help.
And as always—they were ready.