The bustling streets of Cailor were alive with the midday sun, casting shadows along the stone paths as merchants and townsfolk went about their daily routines. Aric moved through the crowd, his steps purposeful but measured. He had some time before the next ship would depart for the Forgotten Isles, and he knew exactly how he’d spend it. If he was going to journey further, he needed to be properly armed.

After all, the Isles weren’t exactly known for their hospitality.

He made his way toward a district that sat just beyond the busy markets, where the clang of hammer on metal rang through the air. The Blacksmith’s Quarter. Here, the forges were always running, and the scent of burning coals mixed with the tang of steel. The sound of iron being struck into form reminded Aric of days long past, when he and his brothers had sparred in the training grounds, practicing their skills under their father’s watchful eye.

But those days were gone.

As Aric approached the forge, he caught sight of a large man standing behind an anvil, his arms thick with muscle, his skin glistening with sweat. The blacksmith was working a large piece of steel, shaping it into what looked like a greatsword.

The man glanced up from his work, his eyes narrowing as they landed on Aric. “Looking for something, traveler?”

Aric pulled back his hood just enough to meet the man’s gaze. “I need a weapon. Something that’ll hold its edge on a long journey.”

The blacksmith grunted, wiping his brow with a rag before setting his hammer aside. “Depends on where you’re headed. What’s your business?”

“I’m leaving for the Forgotten Isles,” Aric replied, his voice steady.

That got the blacksmith’s attention. He stopped what he was doing entirely and leaned against the anvil, folding his arms over his chest. “The Forgotten Isles, huh? Dangerous place, that. Plenty of things out there that can take a man down, no matter how sharp his blade is.”

Aric nodded. He knew the risks, but he didn’t need the blacksmith to remind him.

“Any particular kind of weapon you’re after?” the blacksmith asked, motioning to the racks behind him, lined with swords, daggers, axes, and spears. “I’ve got all sorts. If you’ve got the coin, I’ll make sure you leave here with something worth wielding.”

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Aric took a moment, his eyes scanning the weapons on display. He had always favored speed over brute force—something light but deadly, a blade that could cut through both steel and flesh with precision.

“A short sword,” Aric said, stepping closer to the weapons. “Light, durable. Something that won’t slow me down in a fight.”

The blacksmith nodded thoughtfully and walked over to one of the racks, pulling down a sleek short sword with a simple leather-bound hilt. The blade gleamed, its edge finely honed. “This one’s crafted from dusksteel,” the blacksmith said, holding it out for Aric to inspect. “Light enough to keep your speed, but strong enough to cut through armor if you know what you’re doing.”

Aric took the sword, feeling its weight in his hand. It was perfectly balanced, the blade sharp and straight. He gave it a small swing, testing the motion, and nodded in approval.

“One more thing,” Aric added, glancing back toward the blacksmith. “I’ll need a durable chain—something strong enough to bind or hold weight.”

The blacksmith raised an eyebrow. “A chain, huh? You planning on roping in some beast or just adding to your arsenal?”

“Let’s just say I’d like to be prepared,” Aric replied coolly.

With a grunt, the blacksmith disappeared into the back of his shop, returning a few moments later with a coiled iron chain. It was thicker than most, but not overly cumbersome—ideal for travel. “Forged this one myself. Strong enough to hold a wild beast if you need to. It’ll hold up.”

Aric took the chain in his hands, testing its weight. It was sturdy, well-made. “How much for the sword and the chain?”

The blacksmith leaned back, arms crossed over his chest as he thought for a moment. “For both? Fifty gold pieces. It’s a fair price for dusksteel and custom ironwork.”

Without hesitation, Aric reached into his pouch and counted out the coins, placing them in the blacksmith’s outstretched hand. The man gave a nod of approval, wrapping the sword in cloth and coiling the chain neatly before handing them over.

As Aric strapped the short sword to his belt and secured the chain to his pack, the blacksmith offered a final word of advice. “If you’re going to the Isles, you’ll need more than just steel and chain. Whatever business you’ve got there, be careful. The Isles aren’t called ‘Forgotten’ for nothing.”

Aric met the man’s gaze, his expression unreadable. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

With his new sword secured at his side and the chain strapped to his pack, Aric made his way back to the docks. The day was slipping into afternoon, and he knew the ship would be preparing to leave soon. The harbor was busier now, sailors shouting as they loaded crates of goods onto the vessels. The smell of saltwater and seaweed filled the air as Aric approached the dock where his ship was moored.

It wasn’t a large vessel, but it was sturdy, built for the treacherous waters that surrounded the Forgotten Isles. The captain, a grizzled woman with a scar running across her cheek, nodded as Aric approached. “You’re the last one,” she said. “We’ll set sail soon.”

Aric gave a small nod in return, boarding the ship and finding a quiet spot near the bow. He leaned against the railing, his eyes on the horizon where the sea met the sky.

The Forgotten Isles. A place where the kingdom’s laws held no sway, where dangerous creatures roamed and ancient secrets lay buried. It was the perfect place to disappear, but it was also a place where death could come swiftly.

As the ship began to pull away from the docks, Aric’s thoughts drifted once more to his siblings. Graham, Dulce, Haelcar, Akali, and Ursa. They were probably preparing for the Academy Exams by now, ready to prove their strength as Bearers. His own Link, *Khaos*, stirred faintly within him, as if reminding him of its presence. But he had sworn not to use it, not unless he had no other choice.

For now, the sword at his side and the chain in his pack would be enough.

The ship cut through the waves, leaving Cailor behind as the open sea stretched out before them. The journey to the Forgotten Isles had begun.