“Mel? What are you doing here?” Miss Teller asked as she entered the classroom.

Mel stood in the doorway looking in on her classmates. She had let no one know she was here until Miss Teller said her name. Now, the entire class turned to her and gawked.

Mel winced.

“I have classes,” she said.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” Miss Teller said. “You’ve already been accepted to Falden and you’re set to leave in just a few days for Aldrion, right?”

Mel nodded. “But can I attend anyway?”

Miss Teller regarded her with a confused expression on her face. Murmurs sounded from the classroom, and Mel could feel everyone’s gaze at her. It made her uncomfortable.

“Of course,” Miss Teller said.

She gave Mel a soft smile before entering the classroom, like one would give to a puppy asking for more food. The students pretended to look down or out the window, waiting for class to begin. Mel walked up to Minnie and Marcus, standing by her desk as usual, hoping they wouldn’t treat her differently.

“Is this how it’s going to be now?” Mel asked.

Minnie gave her a sympathetic smile.

“People just need some time to get used to your importance. It will go back to normal soon.”

“When?” Mel asked. “I don’t have more than a few days left here.”

“Oh right,” Minnie said. “Then maybe not. Nothing will be normal until you leave, I’m afraid. I’m sorry.”

Marcus put a hand on Mel’s shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

Mel shook her head. “No, how can they be?”

He gave her a look of disappointment.

“I’m trying, okay?” Mel said. “But I just can’t wrap my head around this. My destiny is basically to go across the mountain and die. How can I be okay with that?”

“That’s not true,” Minnie said. “The dragons won’t let you die out there. They will watch over you. I’m sure of it.”

“Really? How sure?” said a voice behind them.

Mel, Minnie and Marcus turned to see Dorian West standing close by. He leaned against his desk and had a wry smile on his lips.

“I mean, dear Mel here, just got basically the same destiny as Ben Ramsen,” Dorian said, pointing to Mel. “No one has heard from Ben in years. But you know what they say; He was tasked by the dragons to discover the forgotten secrets of dragon fire, and he crossed the mountain. He went deep into the wastelands, far beyond Aldrion, where the light never shines. I don’t think the dragons watched over him. They just let him die out there all alone. Just like Mel will.”

Mel swallowed hard. She wanted to tell Dorian off, tell him that would not happen to her. But she couldn’t. Dorian wasn’t saying anything that wasn’t true, anything that she hadn’t already thought.

Mel glanced between Minnie and Marcus, feeling their expressions hesitant. They had thought about this too. They also knew Mel would meet the same faith as Ben Ramsen. The three of them had all been there together, at town square when Ben had received his destiny. It had all been too similar to Mel’s ceremony. Everyone had held their breath, expecting him to receive an important duty in Windbrook.

But then the impossible had happened. He had gotten sent away on a dangerous mission for the dragons. To find them again, or some piece of them at least. Now Mel had received the same type of destiny, one that would take her far away, farther than she wanted to go.

She had tried to feel happy about getting to attend Falden before her life would be over, but it didn’t seem as important now that she knew she was going to die afterward. Mel knew she wasn’t good enough to get into Falden anyway. Her letter of rejection had shown her that. The acceptance letter she had received wasn’t based on her own merits, it was based on the cult's influence in Aldrion. She wouldn’t fit in there, Mel knew that.

“That’s enough Dorian,” Minnie said. “We all know the dragons want you to be this troublemaker. But this is low even for you. Mel needs our support, not your stupid superstitions.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Dorian opened his mouth to continue, but Miss Teller broke in. “Let’s begin today’s class, shall we?”

#

Light shone from her father’s forge as Mel made her way up the stone path to their house. She went in through the open door and slipped off her backpack. She put on the brown apron hanging by the door and tied it around her waist.

Her father looked up from working on a nail and regarded Mel.

“What are you doing here?” her father asked.

“I’m going to finish the commission,” Mel said. “I can’t leave you alone making all the nails and our regular orders, too.”

Mel grabbed the hot billet sticking out from the forge and brought up the chisel from her apron pocket. Her father put out a hand toward her and lowered his own hammer to the anvil.

“Stop,” he said. “Let’s talk for a moment.”

Mel stood confused with the end of the billet glowing red and angry in her hand. She stuck it back into the forge and sat down next to her father. Her father wasn’t much of a talker, and Mel couldn’t remember a time when he had initiated a conversation with her like this. It wasn’t like him.

Her heart pounded fast in her chest and she felt her stomach tightening into a knot.

“I’ve been thinking all day about your destiny,” he said. “It took us by surprise that you are meant to go beyond the mountain. Me and mom have always planned for you and Andrew to stay here in Windbrook, but it seems like we don’t have a choice in this anymore. You need to go to Aldrion and then further into the wastelands to fulfill your destiny. We can only hope Andrew will get to stay here with us.”

Her father took up a small package from the floor to the side of his chair and unwrapped the leather binding. Inside, a small dagger shimmered in the light from the forge. Mel looked at the dagger and then up at her father’s face. He looked sorrowful.

“Magic has been something of a curse to our family,” her father said. “You don’t know the story. I wanted to spare you and Andrew from the embarrassment. But my grandfather, your great grandfather, was a mage smith in Aldrion.”

Mel sucked in a deep breath, and her eyes flew down to the dagger again. It had a smooth silver glimmer from the edge and a leather binding at the hilt. It didn’t look special, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t.

“He was married in Aldrion, with children,” Mel’s father continued. “A content and happy life, as some would say. It was during the time when they thought everyone should have at least some magical weapons to protect themselves from the beasts. Your great grandfather traveled here, to Windbrook, and met your great grandmother. He got her pregnant, but by that time, the king had decided magical weapons weren't fit for farmers anymore. He revoked his initial law and magical weapons were taken away from the villages.”

Her father handed Mel the dagger with both hands. When Mel grabbed it, she heard a soft ringing, like someone had struck a true note. A vibration went through Mel’s body, and a shiver ran down her spine.

“Your great grandfather had to return to Aldrion,” Mel’s father said. “But before he left, he gave your great grandmother this dagger. A magical item he had created himself in the dragon forge. He gave it to her so she could protect herself, but she never needed to use the dagger. Windbrook was safe. We took care of our own and the cult made us strong during the years of rebellion and civil war. The dragons watched over us and your great grandmother swore to do anything she could to serve them.”

“It was then that the dragons spoke to her,” her father said. “They told her to stay with the cult. To forget about her son's father in Aldrion and stay here in Windbrook. She followed their request and remarried with a man from here, Einar Temper, the local blacksmith. The one we have our name from. Einar hated magic and especially mage smiths. It wasn’t until I was your age that my father told me and passed on the true story of our ancestors. By that time, I had grown to hate magic.”

“What was his name?” Mel asked. “My real great grandfather?”

“Rowad Hellius,” her father said. “He was born in Aldrion and worked as a mage smith there. More than that, I do not know. But I want you to have this dagger, the one he made. I know this destiny isn’t what any of us wanted for you. But I trust in the dragons and I think you have the possibility to make peace with magic for our family. You have the power in you to change our history and become a respectful mage smith who can hold up the legacy from both of your great grandfathers.”

“I don’t know,” Mel said, looking down at the dagger in her hands. “I didn’t even get accepted into Falden.”

“What do you mean?” her father asked.

Mel let out a deep sigh. “I applied before I got my destiny from the dragons. I sent in the dagger I made in your forge. But they didn’t accept me. I got a letter of rejection. Now I’ve been accepted based on the cult’s reputation, not on my own merits, and I fear I’m not good enough.”

Mel met her father’s gaze. He looked both shocked and confused. Then his face broke out into a wide smile.

“Let me tell you a secret,” he said and leaned in closer to Mel. “They don’t know you yet. They rejected you without ever meeting you. They don’t know if you're good enough or not. But they will. You will go to Aldrion and you will show them that a Temper is a true blacksmith. Because even those pompous fools from Stonehearth or Aldrion know that a person from the dragon cult who is fulfilling their destiny is not to be played with. They will accept you based on your own skills once you have had a chance to show them.”

Mel gave her father a warm smile and felt for the first time since she received her destiny that maybe she could enjoy some parts of it. Mel turned back to the forge, where a small flame still glowed. She looked at the billet, shining red in the dark room, and felt like she was a good blacksmith after all. She would show them she belonged in Aldrion, just like her great grandfather had belonged there.

“But don’t think I didn’t hear you say you applied to Falden without our permission,” her father said.

Mel turned to face him, and an apologetic smile spread across her lips.

“I’m sorry,” Mel said. “I won’t do it again.”

Her father’s face softened, and he put his hand on her shoulder.

“Okay,” he said. “But don’t tell your mother about this. She’s already hurt enough from you trying to run away to Auburn Hills. This might actually kill her.”

“I promise,” Mel said. “Thank you.”