The forge lay quiet, only the faint crackle of dying embers filling the room. Edith stared blankly at Leofric, her mind still echoing his words.
"Where's Olivia?" he repeated.
"Olivia's inside. Why do you ask?" Edith's voice trembled, a flicker of fear in her tone.
Leofric's jaw tightened. "We need to leave."
Without another word, he rushed into the house. Edith followed, her hands shaking as worry gripped her heart.
Orren blinked, confused. "Wait—what happened?"
Eldric's brows drew together; his weathered hand brushed through his beard. "Orren, you can go," he said simply, not waiting for a reply.
Orren frowned, glancing between them. "Did I say something wrong?" he muttered as he rolled his cart away, shaking his head.
Inside, Leofric was gathering their few belongings in haste. Edith knelt beside the sleeping Olivia, trying not to wake her. Eldric stood near the door, eyes half-closed, as though in deep thought.
He exhaled softly. "And what makes you think they won't find you again?"
Leofric froze mid-motion, his hands tightening around a leather bag. He turned, frustration and fear darkening his face. "Then what do you expect us to do?"
Eldric opened his eyes, calm and unreadable. "You can come with me," he said simply, his gaze lingering on the little girl.
Edith instinctively drew Olivia closer. "Where?"
"Somewhere safe," Eldric replied.
Leofric's tone hardened. "No. We can't trust anyone."
"It's not that you don't trust me," Eldric said, his expression softening. "It's that you don't trust the world anymore."
Before anyone could respond, a small voice spoke up — gentle yet firm.
"Let's follow the old man."
Leofric and Edith both turned in shock. Olivia hadn't spoken since they fled Osric. Her sudden words froze the air in the room.
"Olivia…" Leofric whispered, his voice shaking.
She didn't meet his gaze. "Let's go."
Edith placed a hand on Leofric's arm. "Maybe she's right," she said quietly. "It's better to walk with someone who knows the way than to wander until we're found."
Leofric hesitated, then sighed. "Fine. Lead the way, Eldric."
Eldric nodded with a faint smile. "Give me a moment."
He disappeared into the other room and returned moments later, carrying a small satchel and a faintly glowing crystal. Its surface shimmered with soft blue light, like trapped starlight swirling within glass. Fine runes pulsed along its edges — symbols of ancient craftsmanship.
Leofric's instincts flared. He drew his sword and stepped protectively in front of Edith and Olivia. "What's that in your hand?"
Eldric chuckled softly. "This?" He held it up, the light casting long shadows across his face. "It's a spatial crystal — used for travel between realms. Unless you'd rather be caught where you stand."
Leofric's grip loosened slightly. "Where did you get something like that?"
Eldric's smile turned faintly proud. "I made it. I craft more than weapons, you know."
He waved them forward, his tone almost teasing. "If you're done pointing that sword at me, we should be on our way."
Leofric sheathed his blade and took Edith's hand. Together, they followed the old man into the fading light.
---
Meanwhile, in Emberhold — Drakthar Dominion
The great hall of obsidian stone stood silent beneath its crimson banners. Torches burned low, filling the air with the scent of iron and smoke. The ministers stood in uneasy lines, their whispers falling quiet as the heavy doors swung open.
King Kaelen Veynar entered, his cloak trailing like a shadow. Young, ruthless, and regal, his dark eyes gleamed with the sharpness of tempered steel.
"Long live your majesty," the ministers chorused, bowing low.
Kaelen sat upon his throne — a black seat carved from volcanic rock, adorned with blades from conquered foes. His expression was cold and unreadable as his gaze swept the hall, finally settling on Minister Garrick, who stood trembling at the front.
"I called this meeting," Kaelen began, his voice calm but cutting, "to hear your report about the Fire Crystal."
The hall fell silent.
"Tell me, Garrick," he continued, leaning forward slightly. "Did you find it?"
Garrick fell to his knees. Sweat glistened on his brow. "Forgive me, my king. I— I failed."
Kaelen tilted his head, resting his chin on his gloved hand. Then, with a faint hum of amusement, he said, "Failed… I see."
He stretched out a hand, and a guard stepped forward, presenting a weapon wrapped in black silk. Kaelen unwrapped it slowly — revealing a sword of dark steel, its blade rippling faintly with crimson light as if it had tasted blood and remembered. The hilt was adorned with a dragon's eye gem that glowed faintly when Kaelen touched it.
He stood, testing its weight. "Do you recall," he said softly, "the punishment for failure?"
Garrick's voice broke. "Please, my lord — grant me time. I will find it. I swear upon my life!"
Kaelen's lips curved into a faint smile — one that never reached his eyes.
"You already have."
He took a single step forward, the blade glinting beneath the torchlight. The sound that followed was not loud — just the whisper of steel meeting flesh, and the heavy silence that came after.
The hall trembled. Ministers dared not look up.
Kaelen wiped the blade slowly with a strip of silk, his tone almost conversational. "Let this be a reminder," he said, voice cold as the grave. "The crown of Emberhold is not sustained by mercy."
He turned, handing the sword back to the guard. "Clean the floor," he added, almost casually.
The ministers bowed deeply, none daring to breathe.
As Kaelen seated himself once more, a thin smile played across his lips. "Now then," he murmured, "who will bring me the crystal?"
...
Outside the forge, the night air was cool and still. The moon hung high, veiled behind a thin layer of cloud. Eldric walked ahead, his staff tapping lightly against the stone path, the glowing crystal held firm in his other hand.
Leofric followed, his eyes darting toward every shadow, his hand never far from the hilt of his sword. Edith carried Olivia close, her steps quiet but hurried.
When they reached a small clearing beyond the last house of the village, Eldric stopped. "Here will do," he murmured.
The crystal pulsed in his palm, light flickering like a living heartbeat. The air around them began to hum — low at first, then growing louder, a deep vibration that made the earth tremble beneath their feet.
Edith looked around, frightened. "What's happening?"
Eldric's eyes glowed faintly as he raised the crystal. "The doorway opens."
A shimmer appeared before them — like ripples in water suspended in the air. The edges glowed with the same blue light as the crystal, expanding into a circular gate that hummed with power.
Leofric shielded Edith and Olivia instinctively. "Where does it lead?"
"To a place far from the Dominion's reach," Eldric said. "If my calculations are right… we'll be safe."
Olivia tugged at Edith's sleeve. "It's beautiful," she whispered, her eyes wide with wonder.
Leofric hesitated. He turned back toward the village — smoke rising faintly from chimneys, the sound of distant footsteps echoing in the wind. Soldiers were coming.
Eldric's voice cut through his hesitation. "You can stay and fight ghosts of the past… or walk forward into hope."
Leofric met his gaze for a long moment, then nodded. He took Edith's hand, guiding her toward the glowing light.
Eldric smiled faintly. "Hold on tight."
He pressed his palm to the crystal — it flared brighter, the hum rising to a roar. The air cracked with energy as a surge of light engulfed them all. In an instant, they vanished.
The forest fell silent once more. Only the faint shimmer of residual magic remained — and then, nothing.
---
Meanwhile… in Drakthar Dominion
The grand doors of the throne room closed with a heavy thud. Ministers whispered in shaken tones as servants hurried to obey their king's orders.
Kaelen sat still upon his throne, fingers tapping against the armrest in slow rhythm.
A man in dark robes stepped from the shadows — his eyes sharp and his presence cold. "It seems your warning had its effect," he said quietly.
Kaelen's lips twitched. "Fear is more loyal than faith."
The man bowed slightly. "And the crystal, my lord?"
Kaelen leaned back, his gaze distant but fierce. "Find it. I don't care what it takes. If it exists… then it belongs to me."
He stood, the faint gleam of torchlight reflecting off his black armor. "Summon the hunters. The game has begun."
The man bowed again. "As you command."
As Kaelen turned away, the torches flickered — their flames bending toward him as if in fear. His voice echoed through the hall, calm and deadly.
"Let the world remember…
the Fire Crystal answers only to the King of Drakthar."