The sharp ring of steel echoed across the sunlit training yard as Dot and Sylric clashed swords. Each powerful strike sent sparks flying and loud metallic *clangs* reverberating through the air. From the high castle walls above, Astrid leaned against the stone parapet, watching the intense sparring session with quiet fascination.
Sylric fought with a simple wooden training sword, moving with calm precision. Dot wielded a heavy knight's blade, swinging aggressively.
"Stop underestimating me, idiot!" Dot growled, pressing forward.
Sylric chuckled, then leapt nimbly onto a raised stone platform. With a swift kick, he knocked Dot's sword aside and pointed the tip of his wooden blade at the boy's chest.
"Got you," Sylric said with a smirk.
"Argh!" Dot grunted in frustration.
"You have to learn to wield a proper weapon," Sylric lectured, lowering his sword. "Charging head-first into battle with nothing but your fists will get you killed."
Dot sat on the ground, catching his breath. "Too bad I don't die."
"Hmm. You really want to keep relying on that?" Sylric asked, raising an eyebrow.
Dot shut him down instantly. "No."
He stood up, wiping sweat from his brow. "I agreed to train so I could get stronger. That means I'll stop relying on… whatever is inside me. There are plenty of great fighters who only have one life."
"Hmm," Sylric murmured thoughtfully.
Without another word, he grabbed a real steel sword and tossed another to Dot. They clashed again, steel meeting steel in a rhythmic dance. Sylric smiled quietly the entire time, clearly enjoying the bout.
"You're really good at this," Dot said between breaths. "Why don't you use swords more often?"
"Focus," Sylric replied sharply.
In one fluid motion, he kicked Dot's hand, sending the sword flying through the air. Before Dot could react, Sylric's blade hovered just inches from his face, the edge glinting coldly.
Sylric paused, then lowered the weapon and dropped it to the ground.
"You need to find a weapon that truly suits you," he said. "Something made for *you*. The armory might have one."
"I doubt they'll let me touch anything in there," Dot muttered.
"Hmm. You're not allowed to leave the castle grounds for any reason—Dren's orders." Sylric winked playfully.
Dot looked confused.
Sylric turned and walked away from the training grounds, leaving Dot standing alone in the dust.
*Where am I supposed to find a weapon that fits me?* Dot thought, staring at the ground.
A soft clearing of the throat interrupted him.
"Ahem."
Dot looked up lazily. Astrid stood there, a knight positioned protectively behind her.
"What do you want?" Dot asked, his voice flat.
"That is no way to address the princess, you scum!" Cottage barked.
Astrid raised a single finger calmly. "Relax, Cottage."
"Yes, Princess," the knight replied, stepping back.
Dot smirked. "What kind of name is Cottage?"
Astrid nearly burst out laughing and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. Cottage's face turned red with anger.
"What's your name?" Astrid asked gently. "Last time we met, you never told me."
"Why do you want to know?" Dot replied warily.
"As the princess, I request to know the name of any subject in my father's kingdom."
Dot sighed. "Hmm… My name is Dot."
Cottage immediately started laughing. "Dot?? That's even worse than I expected!"
"Shut up, Cottage," Astrid snapped, though she was clearly amused.
Dot had already turned to leave when Astrid called out, "Wait! I think I can help you."
Dot stopped. "With what?"
"You're looking for a weapon, right? I know a good place."
"Huh?" Cottage exclaimed in surprise.
Inside Thornhold
The bustling streets of Thornhold were alive with noise and color. Merchants shouted, crowds moved between stalls, and the air smelled of fresh bread, spices, and forge smoke.
"It's so big!" the little girl from Quitfort exclaimed, eyes wide with wonder as she walked beside Yiva.
"Yeah. Thornhold is famous for being one of the kingdom's biggest exporters," Yiva replied with a smile.
"Here, here! Let me read your future, young lady!" an old fortune-teller called from his stall, waving them over.
Yiva dropped a few coins into his bowl and offered her hand. The old man grabbed it eagerly.
"I feel something beyond what words can explain…" he murmured, eyes widening. "A queen…"
Yiva quickly pulled her hand away. The old man chuckled softly. Before she could respond, the little girl—Mira—grabbed her arm and dragged her excitedly toward another stall.
"Mira, wait!" Yiva called, laughing as she followed.
"I want that one!" Mira said, pointing at a colorful trinket.
"Okay, let me see if I can win it for you," Yiva replied, searching for the stall owner.
Suddenly, someone emerged from underneath the wooden counter—bumping his head hard against the boards with a loud *thud*.
"Huh?" Yiva blinked in confusion.
"Dot?! What are you doing here? You're not allowed outside the castle walls! Answer me!"
"Long time no see, Yiva," Dot said sheepishly, rubbing his head. "Uhm… you won't say anything, would you?"
"Dot!" Mira yelled happily.
Dot smiled softly and handed her a delicate lace necklace. "Hi, Mira."
Yiva repeated, more firmly this time, "Dot, what are you doing here?"
Then her eyes landed on Astrid standing nearby, dressed in simple commoner clothes instead of royal finery.
"Huhhhhh?!" Yiva exclaimed, jaw dropping.
Flashback — An hour earlier
Astrid and Dot had disguised themselves in plain traveler's clothes so no one would recognize them. They slipped out of the castle and sneaked into town.
"Keep up!" Astrid said, snapping her fingers when she noticed Dot staring distractedly at a tempting food stall. His stomach growled loudly—he was starving.
They finally reached the famous weapons forge. The rhythmic sound of a hammer striking metal rang from the back room. Astrid and Cottage headed inside, telling Dot to wait out front.
Dot wandered the shop, eyes wide with intrigue. The walls were lined with countless weapons: daggers, axes, swords, spears, and strange curved blades he had never seen before.
He stopped in front of a particularly elegant sword, studying its edge.
"Good, isn't it?" a voice said from behind him. A boy much younger than Dot stood there, smiling.
"Yeah… it's nice around the edges," Dot replied.
"I think it suits you," the boy said.
"Who are you?" Dot asked.
"I'm the owner," the boy replied confidently.
"Okay," Dot said quickly, believing him.
*He actually believed me,* the boy thought with a hidden grin.
"Can you help me reach that one up there? I'm too short. My apprentice usually helps with the high shelves," the boy said.
Dot nodded and reached up to grab the weapon, handing it down.
"Thank you," the boy said.
Suddenly, Astrid, Cottage, and the *real* owner emerged from the back room.
"Robert! Hand it over!" the real owner shouted.
The boy—Robert—bolted out the door with the stolen dagger.
"What's happening?" Dot asked, confused.
"He just stole that weapon!" Astrid exclaimed.
"But he said he was the owner…" Dot realized his mistake too late.
He took off running after Robert, with Astrid and Cottage close behind.
Dot weaved desperately through the crowded market, dodging moving stalls and startled shoppers. In the chaos, they crashed straight into another stall, sending goods flying everywhere.
**Present**
"Did you get him?" Yiva asked.
Dot dragged Robert out from behind the stall by the collar. The boy was working with them too.
Yiva couldn't help but chuckle.
The stall owner shouted at them, "Get back to work!"
Dot and Robert quickly straightened up and nodded.
Later, as the market stalls began to close
Dot and Yiva found a quiet spot to sit on some wooden crates.
"Did you manage to get the weapon you were looking for?" Yiva asked.
"Yeah. The smith said he'll make the one I described, based on what I saw in his workshop," Dot replied.
"Where have you been lately?" Dot asked, his voice softening. "I get the feeling you've been avoiding me."
He gently placed his hand over hers.
Yiva's face turned bright red. She shifted slightly but didn't pull away.
"I'm not avoiding you," she said quietly.
"Are you homesick? I could take you back if you want," Dot offered.
"No… It's not that I do miss home. It's just… I've never really felt anything beyond being caged and useless," Yiva admitted.
"You're not useless," Dot said firmly, turning his face slightly away, embarrassed. It had been a long time since he'd spoken so openly. "You've proven that so many times. You're one of the strongest people I know."
From a short distance away, Astrid watched them silently, her expression unreadable.
Nightfall
As the group prepared to leave the market, Dot suddenly felt eyes on him. He turned sharply and spotted a figure on a rooftop above — a sniper taking aim.
"Get down!" he shouted.
Arrows tore through the air, splintering wood and scattering goods across the stall.
Dot raised his head cautiously and saw two dangerous figures: the Whisper, the clown-like bounty hunter with her painted smile, standing beside the brutal Hound.
Chapter ends