Ashvathaa

It was a cool autumn morning. Emberfall, a small village, lay nestled in a secluded valley, embraced by ancient pines and towering northern mountains. The scent of pine needles hung heavy in the air, and the crisp sting of early fall was all around.

From sunrise until sunset, the village was filled with the daily cycle of life, farmers laboring in the fields, children playing in the roads, and the ringing of metals in the blacksmith’s forge echoing to the distance.

The forge itself was a little building, its walls covered in soot and its roof sloping steeply to let the snow run off. Inside, it was hot, and the air was thick with the acrid odor of burning coal and molten metal.

A dark-haired boy of 17 with grime on his arms was working on a horseshoe. His moves were practiced; although sweat rolled down his brow, his hands remained firm.

“Take care with that metal, lad!” A heavy, husky voice sliced through the forge. “You don’t want to spoil another lot. We have a decent quantity of orders to complete before harvest festival.”

The young boy looked up from his task, nodding hastily. “I have it, Master Bram. It’ll be ready shortly.” Bram, a stout man with a long matted beard and squinty-looking eyes, was bent over his own work, forging a pair of iron bands for a new cart. He stopped long enough to mop his sweat-drenched brow with his thick leather apron.

“You’ve been doing well, Kylian,” Bram growled, but his voice held a thread of approval. “The festival is coming soon. Folks will want their tools repaired for the celebration. Fasten your pace.”

Kylian worked on the horseshoe again, his mind wandering to the coming festival. Emberfall’s harvest festival was one of the few times that the village celebrated in style. Laughter, song, and the scent of roasted meats hung in the air as villagers came together to thank the gods for the year’s harvest.

While Kylian shaped the horseshoe with his hammer, he reflected on the good old days when he celebrated the festival with his parents. His father passed away before Kylian was even 6. The tales of his father’s skills with metals and what little he recalled of him were a source of pride that motivated him to pick up the hammer. After his father’s passing, his mother had worked endlessly to preserve their little family. Held up in her endless struggle, she rarely had time to smile with him. Now, with the harvest festival coming, Kylian was excited to spend some quality time with her.

“Thump thump.” The ring of the hammer fell suddenly silent, cut short by a sharp tap at the door of the forge.

Kylian cleaned his grimy hands with his apron and opened the door to be faced by a messenger in livery attire. The messenger’s face was gaunt, his breath forming mist in the chill morning air. “Is this the forge of Bram the Blacksmith?” the messenger inquired, his voice shaking.

“Yes, it is,” Kylian replied. “What brings you here?”

The messenger looked about in alarm. “I have a message for Master Bram. It’s urgent.”

Bram came out of the forge, his expression changed as he observed the messenger. “What’s this all about?”

The messenger presented Bram with a sealed scroll. Bram’s gaze scanned the wax seal, House Arlyn’s crest: a silver falcon against a blue field. He broke the seal and rapidly read the contents. His expression changed from perplexed to worried.

“It appears I’m being summoned to Arkhaven,” Bram said, his tone low and taut. “They want my services right away. Give me a minute, I will be ready.”

Kylian’s interest was aroused. Arkhaven was a fortress city and a world away from their poor village, and the idea of going there brought a sense of adventure out. “Can I go with you, Master Bram?” he said, his face shining with eagerness.

Bram regarded him for a moment before answering. “It’s no place for a boy,” he said. “But there’s no point in leaving you here by yourself. If you behave, I guess it wouldn’t do any harm.”

Soon after, Kylian stood at the outskirts of Emberfall. By his side stood his mother, Kiya, holding a small satch containing his possessions. Bram’s cart, loaded with tools, slowly approached the duo. Kylian joined with Bram, all prepared to leave. As they set off, Kylian’s mother stood a few paces behind, observing with a mixture of pride and silent concern, her hand raised in a reluctant goodbye.

The journey started, and Kylian’s heart pounded with anticipation. The road to Arkhaven was long and winding, slicing through dense forests and rolling hills. They traveled along the Ber River before joining with the central road leading to the fortress city. As the journey continued, the mud roads became smoother and well-maintained. The two-day walking distance was covered much faster with the horse cart, and the fortress became visible by midday. Kylian couldn’t help but be amazed at the extreme difference between the calmness of his village and the majesty of the fortress city.

Arkhaven was a vast city, its towering spires and great buildings a testament to the might and extravagance of House Arlyn. The castle towered above the city, its tall stone walls and turrets reaching out long shadows that fell across the city streets. Kylian’s heart swelled with awe as he passed through the city gates, his eyes gog at the thronging market squares and the looming magnificence of the noble mansions. They navigated the crowded streets to the castle, where Bram was escorted in with a sense of extreme urgency. Kylian was forced to wait in the outer courtyard of the castle, an area of trimmed gardens and fancy fountains.

Kylian strolled about the courtyard, absorbing sights and sounds so foreign to those he knew. It wasn’t long before peace in the courtyard was broken as two men wrapped in dark robes appeared. Their presence was authoritative, and Kylian’s interest was aroused as they conversed in low tones with a cluster of guards. He attempted to listen in but failed; the dialogue was too far away and secretive.

The sun drifted away, it was early afternoon when Bram finally came out of the castle’s imposing entrance. His expression was etched with worry. He gestured for Kylian to follow him. “We must return to the village,” Bram stated. “There’s been a change of plans. I’ll tell you on the way.”

Bram dropped off his supplies to a contact without any discussion and departed from the city. As they headed back to Emberfall, Kylian’s thoughts swirled with questions. What had happened that necessitated their return immediately, without even properly selling their supplies?