The streets of Khazad-Val were beginning to empty as the group left Bram's forge. The market stalls still held on, lit by oil lanterns that bathed the stone in an orange glow. The sound of hammers had faded, but the smell of coal and iron still clung to the air.
Elias took the lead. The white owl remained perched on his shoulder, turning its head sharply from side to side. "There's not much time before they close," he said. "Let's get the essentials today. The rest, tomorrow."
He stopped in front of a textile stall. A dwarf with a braided beard and a permanent frown watched them with suspicion. "Elven travel cloaks," Elias requested. "Light fabric, wide hood. Three."
The dwarf snorted. "That's expensive. Got gold?"
Elias placed three coins on the counter without blinking. The dwarf looked at them, then at Elias, then back at the coins. Finally, he grunted and pulled three cloaks from a chest. "Safe travels."
Kára stepped forward as Elias stored the cloaks. "Silver root essence. Do you have it?"
The dwarf looked at her with more respect. A dwarf deserved a different kind of attention. "I do. But it's not cheap."
"Doesn't matter. He pays." She pointed at Elias with her thumb. The scholar let out a sigh and searched for more coins.
Darian watched everything from the background. Vael had hidden within the folds of his clothing, only poking his snout out from time to time to sniff the air. "Easy," Darian whispered, stroking the dragon's head. "Almost done." Vael let out a soft purr and curled against his neck.
All this trouble for rags and scents? Nox's voice echoed in his mind, impatient.
Patience is the sharpest blade, Lumine replied in her calm whisper.
My blade is sharper. And it wants blood. Not patience.
There will be no blood in the market. Control yourself.
Nox let out a mental snort but did not argue further.
Elias stored the silver root essence in a leather pouch and turned to the group. "That's enough for today. Tomorrow we'll get the cart, the horse, and the rest."
The inn was modest. Polished stone tables, oil lanterns hanging from beams, and a thick silence broken only by the crackle of fire. The group took a table near the back wall.
Elias spread the forged trade scrolls and examined them under the dim light. His fingers traced the lines with precision. He nodded to himself. "They'll pass as authentic."
Kára pulled out a cloth and began cleaning the runes of Kazak'Thur. Her fingers traced the engravings with reverence. The hammer glowed faintly under the lantern light.
Varkas devoured a bowl of stew with appetite, but his yellow eyes never stopped watching the entrance. The wolf within him remained alert.
Darian stroked Vael, now curled in his lap. Lumine and Nox rested against the table beside him. Their auras were faint, barely perceptible. "Hungry?" Darian murmured to the dragon. Vael lifted his head, golden eyes watching him, and let out a soft, asking sound. Darian cut a piece of meat and offered it. Vael devoured it instantly. "I'll need to order more."
Elias suddenly closed his eyes. His expression tightened. The white owl turned its head toward him. "What is it?" Kára asked.
"The ferret… it's with Aria." Elias took a deep breath. His voice barely faltered. "I can feel its fear. She's alive. But scared."
Silence fell over the table.
"We'll bring her back," Darian said. It wasn't just a phrase. It was a promise.
Elias nodded, but said nothing.
The Khazad-Val market at midmorning was a hive of stone and voices. Hammers struck metal in every direction, and the smell of coal mixed with spices and cured leather.
Elias stopped in front of a stable. A sturdy, short-legged dwarf horse watched them with indifference. Beside it stood a wooden cart reinforced with iron.
The vendor, a gray-bearded dwarf with a hooked nose, crossed his arms. "Ten gold coins. Cart and horse."
"Eight," Elias replied without blinking.
"Nine."
"Deal."
Elias paid while Varkas approached the horse. The animal looked at him, snorted, and accepted his presence without resistance. The beastman took the reins naturally.
Kára returned shortly after with a small leather sack. "Obsidian powder. And the mana crystal." She handed both to Elias. "You almost drained my savings."
"Aria is worth it."
Varkas loaded the barrels of essence and crates of false goods onto the cart. His beastlike strength drew a respectful glance from the dwarf vendor.
Elias climbed onto the cart and settled among the goods. His posture changed. He was no longer the hunched scholar. He was a merchant. Confident. Distant.
"Kára," he called. "Sit by the tools. You're my smith." The dwarf woman nodded and took her place, Kazak'Thur resting against her shoulder.
"Varkas, you drive. A tamed beastman strengthens the image." The giant took the reins without complaint.
"Darian. You walk beside the cart. You're the guard. Young, armed, quiet."
Darian nodded. He adjusted the two swords on his back and moved alongside the cart. Vael had hidden in a compartment among the cloaks, completely concealed. "Don't make noise," Darian whispered toward the compartment. "It's for our own good." A faint purr answered him.
Elias looked at all of them. "Remember your roles. We are merchants heading south. Nothing more."
The gates of Khazad-Val opened before them near midday. Golden light from the mountain vents bathed the cart as they crossed the threshold. The dwarf guards barely gave them a glance. A merchant, his smith, his beast driver, and his guard. Nothing unusual.
The road stretched ahead. A gravel path winding through rocky mountains. The air was cold but dry, and the sky cleared as they descended southward.
The path opens, Lumine whispered in Darian's mind. The thread tightens.
Let it tighten fast, Nox added. I want to hunt.
Darian said nothing. He walked in silence, hand near Lumine's hilt, eyes forward.
The landscape shifted slowly. Mountains gave way to arid hills, and the green of dwarven valleys faded into pale yellow. The sun was beginning to set when Varkas halted the horse.
His ears twitched. He turned his head slowly.
Silence.
Too much silence.
An arrow whistled through the air and struck the cart's wood, a hand's breadth from Elias.
"Ambush!" Varkas roared.
Ten figures descended from the rocks on both sides of the path. Worn clothes. Rusted swords. Chipped axes. Their eyes gleamed with greed.
A man with a scruffy beard and a scar across his left eyebrow stepped forward. His sword was the only one that looked well-kept. "The cart. The goods. The gold." He smiled, yellow teeth showing. "And maybe we let you go."
Elias, from the cart, remained calm. "We are simple merchants. We have nothing of value."
"We'll decide that."
Darian stepped forward. "Stay back. I'll handle this."
Kára moved as if to step down, but Varkas stopped her with a gesture. "Let him. This is his moment."
Darian unsheathed Lumine and Nox. The calm white light of the long sword. The dense dark mist of the short one. Their auras intertwined around him, as if recognizing each other.
The bandits froze.
The leader paled. "W-what… what is that?"
Darian stared at him. His voice was steady, without a trace of doubt. "Your last chance. Leave."
The leader laughed, but it sounded hollow. Nervous. "Ten against one. Tricks. Just tricks. Get him!"
The ten bandits charged.
Finally, Nox whispered in Darian's mind. Finally, blood.
Let the feast begin.
Darian's eyes glowed with a dark light. His gaze changed. He was no longer the boy who hesitated. No longer the one who failed.
Now he was the blade.
And the blade was ready to cut.