Far from the frozen expanses of Vördrheim, deep beneath the scorched earth of an ancient volcanic ruin, lay the hidden forge of the Ironbeard Clan. This was Ashengale, a legendary dwarven workshop carved underground, an extinct volcano that had once spewed fire and ash over the land. The caverns of Ashengale were illuminated by the eerie, pulsating glow of magma rivers that snaked their way through the ruins, casting everything in shades of crimson and orange. The air was thick with heat, the walls blackened with soot and ash from centuries of relentless forging.
Massive basalt pillars supported the ceiling of the cavern, their surfaces etched with ancient dwarven runes that shimmered faintly in the molten light. The heat was oppressive, even for the hardiest of dwarves, but the Ironbeard Clan worked tirelessly, hammering away at glowing ingots of metal atop anvils that had been handed down through generations. The sound of hammer striking metal echoed through the cavern like a symphony of war drums, accompanied by the constant hiss of steam as molten metal was cooled in enchanted troughs of water.
The forge itself was a masterpiece of dwarven engineering. Gigantic forges, powered by geothermal energy drawn from the very core of the earth, belched fire and smoke. Massive bellows, operated by intricate gears and pulleys, pumped air into the flames, making them roar like angry beasts. The anvils were each surrounded by workbenches covered in tools—rune-etched hammers, tongs, chisels, and files, all glowing faintly with enchantments designed to shape metal as though it were clay. The walls of the cavern were lined with racks of weapons and armor in various stages of completion, each piece a testament to the craft of the Ironbeards.
Despite the sweltering heat, the dwarves worked with precision and focus, their sweat-soaked faces glowing in the firelight. Their hammers, embedded with glowing runes of forging, crackled with latent magic, infusing the metal they worked with arcane energy. The forge was alive with the hum of magic, the heat of the magma, and the unyielding determination of the dwarves.
But today, there was another force of chaos in Ashengale.
A winged figure zipped through the air, her laughter echoing through the cavern as she darted between the dwarves, causing chaos wherever she went. Yuuna, in her human form, was a whirlwind of energy, her wings a blur of dark pink and black as she flitted from one blacksmith to another, cackling as she scared them out of their wits.
“Hurry up! Hurry up! Xyenn needs that armor now! You’re all moving slower than a troll!” Yuuna shouted, swooping low and causing a dwarf to drop his hammer in panic as she flew past him, her dark pink halo glowing ominously above her head.
“By the gods, she’s at it again!” one of the younger dwarves yelped, diving behind a pile of unfinished shields as Yuuna buzzed overhead, her laughter ringing in his ears.
Another dwarf, his face streaked with soot, shook his head and muttered, “Bah, she can scream all she wants. I’ve survived worse than—”
Before he could finish, there was a sudden rush of dark energy, and Yuuna shifted forms mid-flight. In an instant, her small, human-like figure expanded, her body twisting and morphing into her dragon form. With a bone-rattling roar, she landed heavily in the middle of the forge, her massive, dark pink and black-scaled body dwarfing the dwarves around her. Her jagged dark pink halo hovered above her head like a crown, and her glowing eyes gleamed with mischief.
The ground trembled under her weight as her talons scraped against the stone floor. “I SAID FASTER!” she bellowed, her voice booming through the cavern like thunder. The heat in the forge intensified as her massive wings flared open, sending gusts of hot air through the room. “I miss Xyenn, so I need the forging to be faster!”
The dwarves froze, their hammers suspended mid-air, as they stared up at the massive dragon looming over them in sheer terror.
One of the younger dwarves, his beard trembling, whispered, “This is it. We’re all gonna die. I knew it. One day, a dragon would come and melt us all into puddles, and here we are.”
Another dwarf, his face pale, nodded weakly. “Aye… I always said we should’ve stayed in the mountain tops. But nooo, we had to dig down into a bloody volcano.”
Yuuna let out a deep, rumbling laugh, her sharp teeth flashing as she reared back on her hind legs, her wings spreading wide. “Hahaha! Look at all of you! You’re so scared! Pathetic!” She bared her teeth menacingly, then, with a flick of her tail, she reverted back into her human form, her wings folding neatly behind her as she landed gracefully on the stone floor, dusting off her hands as if nothing had happened.
The dwarves stared at her, wide-eyed, as the tension slowly eased.
One particularly stubborn dwarf, his arms as thick as tree trunks and his face dripping with sweat, crossed his arms and scowled. “Ye can roar and snarl all ye want, lass, but we’re not rushin’ perfection. Quality takes time! Xyenn’s armor will be done when it’s done.”
Yuuna flew up to his face, her nose inches from his, her eyes narrowed. “Oh yeah? How about I turn into a dragon again and melt your armor into a puddle, huh? What would you say to that, beardy?!”
The dwarf snorted, unfazed. “Do yer worst, lass. My beard’s survived worse than dragon fire.”
Before Yuuna could respond, a familiar voice echoed across the forge.
“Yuuna, lass, ye need to calm yerself. Ye been like this since you were a youngin’.”
The voice belonged to Gridd Ironbeard, the master blacksmith of Ashengale and the clan. Gridd was an imposing figure, even among dwarves. His skin was a deep, sunburnt bronze, weathered from years of working in the heat of the forge. His long, braided beard, streaked with silver, hung down to his chest, and his eyes—a deep, molten gold—held the wisdom of centuries of craftsmanship. His thick, muscular arms were covered in burn scars and soot marks, but his face always carried a calm, unshakable confidence. He wore a heavy leather apron over his chest, and his hammer—the largest and most intricately runed in the forge—rested on his shoulder, glowing faintly with golden runes.
Gridd approached Yuuna, shaking his head with a bemused smile. “Yer scarin’ the lads half to death, lass. If ye keep scarin’ ‘em like that, we’ll be short a few blacksmiths by the end o’ the day.”
Yuuna crossed her arms, pouting. “But they’re so slooow! Xyenn’s out there without any cool armor, and I need them to work faster!”
“What kind are ye makin’?”
“Ya know, some cool armor that can keep him from going crazy and having flashbacks of my memories. I can feel when he’s experiencing my own trauma..it hurts him. So I need armor forged that can soothe his mind whenever he goes in that state. Something that can block it off completely.”
Gridd chuckled, his voice a deep rumble. “Aye, I know yer impatient. Ye always were. But good craftsmanship can’t be rushed. We’re makin’ armor fit fer a king. Xyenn’ll get his armor, but there’s somethin’ we need first.”
Yuuna’s eyes lit up as she flew closer, her wings fluttering with excitement. “What?! What do you need? I’ll get it!”
Gridd turned to one of the younger dwarves, who nervously stepped forward, clutching a sheet of parchment. “W-We need a Pyrostal Core, miss. It’s a special crystal that only forms deep in the heart of ancient volcanic caverns. Without it, the enchantments we’re plannin’ for the armor won’t hold.”
Yuuna’s brow furrowed. “A Pyrostal Core? What’s that? And why haven’t you gotten it yet?!!”
The young dwarf gulped. “W-Well, it’s rare. Real rare. The Pyrostal Core is a crystal formed from the cooled essence of volcanic spirits. It’s said that when a volcano dies, the fire spirits trapped within it condense into these crystals. The core holds the power of eternal flame—it can burn hotter than any forge fire, but it’s highly unstable. If we can get one, we can channel its power into the runes on the armor, makin’ Xyenn’s mind able to withstand and block trauma itself. The draconic flame within the armor itself would burn trauma or psychological attacks from enemies, it would merge with Xyenn’s body physically. But he cannot be in the armor for too long, it would damage his soul. Be sure to give him a short time limit on when he’s wearing the armor.”
Yuuna’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Fine fine. And a crystal made from volcanic spirits? That sounds awesome! I’ll go get it right now!” She spun around, ready to take flight, but Gridd’s hand on her shoulder stopped her.
“Hold on, lass,” Gridd said, his voice calm but firm. “It can get crazy there, could be some draconic deities ready for—.”
Yuuna grinned. “Lucky for you, I’m not just any dragon! And besidessss, there won’t be any deities. Watch.”
“How are ye sure?”
“Hmmm, I’m not. But we gotta do this fast! Quick and easy. Then boom, in and out.”
Gridd sighed, shaking his head. “Aye, but ye won’t be goin’ alone. I’m comin’ with ye.”
Yuuna blinked in surprise. “You? But what about the forge? The armor?”
Gridd chuckled, slinging his hammer over his shoulder. “The forge’ll survive without me fer a minute or two. Besides, I’ve been wantin’ to stretch me legs. Can’t let ye go runnin’ off into danger without someone to keep ye in line.”
Before Yuuna could protest, the rest of the dwarves suddenly crowded around Gridd, their faces filled with panic.
“Ye can’t leave us, Gridd!” one of the older dwarves wailed, clutching Gridd’s arm. “The forge’ll fall apart without ye!”
“Aye!” another dwarf chimed in, tears welling in his eyes. “Who’ll guide us if ye leave? Yuuna’ll burn the whole place down!”
“Please don’t go!” a third dwarf sobbed, throwing himself at Gridd’s feet dramatically. “We need ye, Master Gridd! We’re too scared!”
Gridd looked down at them, his face a picture of exasperated amusement. “By the gods, ye lot are worse than a pack o’ whinin’ pups. It’ll be fine, lads.”
The dwarves continued to pout and plead, their voices a chorus of desperation. “But what if we can’t finish the armor without ye? What if Yuuna comes back and—”
Before they could finish, Yuuna transformed into her dragon form again with a flash of dark energy, towering over them with a wicked grin. “Roar.” She said calmly.
The dwarves screamed in unison and scattered like frightened sheep, dashing behind anvils and workbenches, their beards flapping behind them as they fled.
Yuuna reverted back to her human form and crossed her arms with a satisfied mocking laugh.
Gridd shook his head, chuckling. “Ye’ve got a real talent fer scarin’ the life outta people, lass. Let’s hope ye’ve got the same talent for findin’ Pyrostal Crystals.”
Yuuna grinned, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “I’m ready when you are, old man!”
Gridd hefted his mace with a grin. “Then let’s get to it. The sooner we get that crystal, the sooner we can finish Xyenn’s armor.”
Yuuna hovered triumphantly above the forge, arms crossed, wings fluttering, and her dark pink halo glowing softly. The dwarves were back at their anvils, hammering away with renewed vigor—though it was more out of fear than enthusiasm. With a smug grin on her face, Yuuna flew down to Gridd, who was watching the scene with his arms folded across his broad chest.
“See? I told you I’d motivate them,” Yuuna declared, landing lightly next to Gridd. “Nothing like a little dragon scare to get things moving!”
Gridd rubbed his temples, sighing. “Aye, lass, ye motivated ‘em, alright. But at this rate, half of ‘em’ll be dead from heart attacks ‘fore we finish the armor.” He glanced at the dwarves nervously hammering away, their eyes constantly darting toward Yuuna in case she decided to transform again.
Before Yuuna could respond, the heavy iron doors to the forge swung open with a loud creak, and in walked a crowd of women—Mertha’s Pub workers, recognizable by their flowing aprons and colorful scarves. The moment they entered, the forge seemed to still, the sound of hammers dying away as the dwarves turned to look at the newcomers.
The dwarves’ reactions were immediate. Their eyes went wide, their beards practically quivering as they stared at the pub workers with goofy, wide-eyed expressions of admiration. Some of the younger dwarves even dropped their hammers, their mouths hanging open as if they’d just seen goddesses walk into the forge. One dwarf, who had been mid-swing, froze so suddenly that his hammer clanged loudly against the floor.
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“By the molten gods…” one of the dwarves whispered, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. “They’re… they’re angels!”
Even the older dwarves who had seen countless battles and forged legendary weapons were suddenly acting like teenagers at a magic academy, puffing out their chests and smoothing down their singed beards.
The female dwarves in the forge, however, were not amused.
“Oi!” one of the dwarf wives growled, marching up to her starry-eyed husband and yanking him by the ear. “What d’ye think yer doin’, staring at them like a fool?! Get back to work, ye beard-brained idiot!”
Another female dwarf, her hands on her hips, glared at her partner. “I swear, ye’ve got the attention span of a gopher! If I catch ye lookin’ at them girls one more time, I’ll shave yer beard meself!”
The male dwarves cowered under the fury of their wives, but their eyes still followed the pub workers, who were now wandering through the forge, whispering and giggling amongst themselves.
“Look at that one,” one of the workers whispered, covering her mouth to stifle a laugh. She pointed at a dwarf whose helmet was slightly too big for his head, causing his bushy eyebrows to stick out awkwardly. “He looks like a mushroom with legs!”
Another worker giggled, nudging her friend. “And that one over there—he’s got soot all over his face! Looks like he tried to eat the forge fire.”
“I’m jealous, wish I had someone to make armor for.”
“Oh?”
“Yuuna is so lucky, if I could’ve found Xyenn first I totally would’ve ran away with him.”
“No, I would’ve.”
“No. Me. Everyone knows I’m the prettiest out of us all. Even the hunters and adventurers at the pub say so.”
“They just wanna get in your pants!”
“Don’t ruin my moment!”
The pub workers giggled amongst themselves, casting sidelong glances at the dwarves, who were doing their best to look impressive while pretending not to be eavesdropping.
Yuuna, floating above the scene with a mischievous grin, folded her arms and looked at Gridd. “See? Told you. NOW they’re motivated.”
Gridd chuckled, shaking his head. “Aye, lass, ye’ve got a way with people, I’ll give ye that.” He watched as the dwarves, now desperate to impress the pub workers, began hammering harder and faster, their tools clanging against the anvil with newfound enthusiasm.
The female dwarves, however, were still fuming, muttering angrily under their breath as they glared at their husbands.
Yuuna’s grin widened. “They’ll have that armor done in no time.”
Gridd scratched his beard, watching the chaos unfold with a chuckle, “Let’s hope so, lass. I’d rather not have to deal with any more o’ yer ‘motivational tactics.’”
Yuuna laughed, her wings fluttering behind her. “Oh, come on, Gridd. They love it!”
As the dwarves worked harder than ever—motivated by a mixture of fear, jealousy, and sheer determination—Yuuna and Gridd exchanged knowing glances. The forge was alive with energy, and the armor for Xyenn would be finished soon.
The journey through the Ashengale Ruins was long and grueling, made even more so by the oppressive heat that clung to the air like a heavy shroud. Yuuna flew slowly, her wings barely flapping as she hovered just above the ground, her movements sluggish, her dark pink halo dimmer than usual. Exhaustion weighed her down like a leaden cloak, her thoughts clouded by fatigue. Beside her, Gridd Ironbeard trudged along, his heavy boots crunching against the ashen ground with each step.
“I’m so…tired.” Yuuna said in a drowsy state.
“Lay it on me, lass.”
“Ugh. I don’t even know where to begin. Ever since we fought Death, I started to feel something for Xyenn, and if I fall in love with Xyenn, I thinksomething bad will happen to me. I hate it. Though, I don’t know what that bad thing is, love between deities and humans are banned. Set by the First Dragon himself. A lot of times I can feel when Xyenn is fighting. That armor your boys are making can help him, but I know he’s fighting because I can feel his heart. Whenever he begins to see my memories, his heart rages and beats super fast. I hate that I can’t do anything about it, besides come to you all.”
“Ye made the right call.”
“My other vessels in the past never made it this far as him, so this is still new to me. Xyenn is special…now I sound so damn selfish. UGHHHHH.”
“Yuuna—.”
“It’s like, HOW can I say that about him? It sounds like I don’t even care about the other vessels. I chose them out of pure desperation, for survival, I’d say. It was the same for Xyenn. I saw him as a weak ass brat who was ready to throw it all away, I thought maybe I could manipulate him to the point where he’d let me make a contract with him, then I forced one on him when he ended himself, so I ended up bringing him back. I saw his rage for the draconic gods, he shared it with me. That was the best way I could use that on him. But then seeing how determined he was to survive, seeing how far he was willing to go for someone he had just met…I don’t know. He told me, a stranger, an evil goddess in the eyes of many, that he would make sure I live. I never had anyone be like that with me. Risking their life for someone like me. I..killed so many people, Gridd. You know this.”
“Aye, I do.”
“My domain was hell itself. I control darkness, and it's flames. I’m responsible for Xyenn experiencing the darkness I faced when I found out I was being hunted for my heart. He shares my darkness. I’m the reason why there are hunters and adventurers around. I used my nature of darkness to spread it through most of the continents and kingdoms to corrupt the beasts, to cause havoc, maybe to even weaken the very kingdoms and gods, to keep them off my backs so I could survive; but people died because of that, being killed. So the hunters and adventurers were sent out to kill these beasts. And they still lurk about even after all these years. I’m horrible.”
“Let me ask ye this, that day with yer vessel..when Death was an adversary, was that the day you thought ye could be better than ye were before?”
“…Yes. I’m not a good goddess. I thought after experiencing these feelings for Xyenn, I thought I could change, maybe being with him could change me.”
“I can tell it has.”
“Gridd..”
“I’ve known ye for over 200 years, I saw ye was not an angel, no. But I saw ye were alone, that’s why I came to ye. Bein’ hunted by the gods for ye heart, heavy burdens on ya. Me and yer’ 5 Tyrants like Mertha and the others, we’ve all ye got. I promised I’d help ye seek redemption one day, not destroy yer’ own self. You’ve already changed, lass. Considerin’ the fact that ye’ want to care more about yer’ surroundings.”
“Haha…you’ve always been right, beardy. Being with Xyenn made me think I could possibly care more, more about those who I have on my side instead of being a selfish bitch. I didn’t care about anyone, I wanted to survive.”
“And now ye realize yer not the only one sufferin’ in Kyrrin. Yer’ vessel suffers also. Along with the majority of this here world of carnage, eh?”
“Yeah, you’re right. I guess.”
“Don’t make the same mistakes I did, lass. If not for me, my clan wouldn’t have been in hidin’ for so long. Make sure ye cherish everything.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“Also, where are yer’ other Tyrants?”
Yuuna yawned, “On the way to Vördrheim. After I get this armor, I’ll head back as well.”
The landscape around them was a harsh reminder of the unforgiving nature of the Fyresawn Continent. The molten earth beneath their feet hissed and bubbled, a network of cracks glowing with an angry red light as magma pulsed just below the surface, veins of molten rock crisscrossing the land like the lifeblood of the earth itself. The air was thick with sulfur and ash, stinging their lungs with every breath. Blackened spires of volcanic rock jutted up from the ground like the jagged teeth of some ancient beast, their surfaces slick with lava that oozed down in slow, lazy rivulets, cooling into crusted layers of obsidian.
Occasionally, the ground would rumble beneath them, sending loose stones tumbling down from the cliffs that loomed over the narrow path they followed. In the distance, massive volcanic plumes spewed columns of ash and smoke into the sky, blotting out the sun and casting the landscape in a perpetual twilight. The sky above was a swirling mix of dark clouds and crimson light, the horizon glowing with the constant threat of volcanic eruptions.
Despite the beauty of the molten rivers and the haunting glow of the distant peaks, there was an eerie stillness to the land. No signs of life stirred in the ruins, save for the occasional hiss of steam escaping from cracks in the earth. The ruins themselves were ancient, their origins lost to time. Massive stone structures, half-buried in ash and lava, dotted the landscape, their once-great walls crumbling, their carvings worn smooth by centuries of volcanic fury. Some of the stonework bore ancient, unreadable glyphs, remnants of a long-forgotten civilization that had once called this place home before the volcanoes claimed it.
The pathway they followed wound through narrow gorges, the walls around them blackened and cracked from the intense heat. Pools of molten lava bubbled lazily in sunken depressions, their surfaces flickering with bursts of flame. Occasionally, they passed under crumbling stone arches, half-melted by the relentless advance of magma, their surfaces scarred by the passage of time and fire.
Yuuna’s wings beat weakly as she floated just ahead of Gridd, her eyes half-lidded, her thoughts drifting. She hadn’t slept in what felt like days. Her mind was consumed with thoughts of Xyenn, of the armor she needed to secure for him, of the dangers that might befall him while she was away. Her body ached, not from the physical strain of the journey, but from the relentless worry gnawing at her insides. She hadn’t even bothered to transform into her dragon form to conserve energy. She simply drifted, as if she were a ghost haunting the ruins.
The oppressive heat didn’t seem to bother Gridd much. The dwarven blacksmith was used to the sweltering temperatures of his forge, though even he had to wipe the sweat from his brow more often than usual. His molten gold eyes scanned the path ahead, wary of the dangers that lurked in the volcanic wasteland. He had seen these ruins before, long ago, when he was much younger, but time had changed the land. The once semi-active volcano had grown more volatile, its molten veins spreading like cancer across the landscape, devouring anything that dared to stand in its path.
They continued in silence, the only sounds their footsteps and the distant rumble of the volcano, until, finally, they reached their destination.
The path opened up into a massive chamber, a natural crater formed by a long-dormant eruption. The ground here was littered with jagged rocks and pools of glowing magma, the heat so intense that the very air shimmered with it. In the center of the chamber, perched atop a massive rock formation that jutted out of the molten earth like a throne, was the thing they had come for—an enormous Pyrostal Crystal.
The crystal was unlike anything Yuuna had ever seen. It pulsed faintly with an inner light, a deep, fiery red that swirled with streaks of gold and orange. It was large, easily the size of Yuuna’s torso, and it sat nestled atop the rock as if it had grown there, birthed from the heart of the volcano itself. The crystal’s surface shimmered, its edges jagged and uneven, but its power was palpable, radiating out in waves that made the very air hum with magical energy.
But the crystal was not alone.
Sitting beneath it, like a grotesque guardian, was a creature that could only be described as a Volcarok. It was a massive, mutated frog-like beast, its rough, molten skin covered in patches of lava and rock. The creature's body was bloated and misshapen, its back cracked open in places where molten rock oozed out, forming jagged spikes that jutted from its spine. Its legs were thick and muscular, but its most peculiar feature was its hands—or rather, the way its hands were fused together in a spiraling formation of rock and magma, as though they had been twisted and melted into a permanent, unnatural shape.
The Volcarok's eyes glowed with a molten red hue, and atop its head, like a crown, sat the Pyrostal Crystal, embedded in its rocky skull. The creature’s breath came in slow, deep huffs, each exhale sending a puff of steam into the air.
Gridd, seeing the creature, scowled and muttered something under his breath. He glanced at Yuuna, who was still floating lazily beside him, seemingly unfazed by the sight.
“These things,” Gridd began, his voice low as he explained, “they’re called Volcaroks. Nasty creatures. They’re born from the remains of volcanic spirits, twisted by the molten energies of the earth. When a volcano dies, the spirits trapped within it sometimes merge with the creatures of the land, warping them into these abominations. The Pyrostal Crystal on its head—it’s what keeps it alive. The crystal’s power feeds it, keeps its body from falling apart under the heat. But that same crystal is what we need.”
Yuuna barely nodded, her eyes half-closed as she drifted closer to the Volcarok. Gridd continued, eyeing the beast warily.
“And…?”
“The crystal holds the essence of the volcano’s spirit,” Gridd explained. “It’s more than just a power source—it can merge with someone, bond to their very soul. You know That bond can protect them from magical attacks, especially ones that target their mind.”
Yuuna didn’t seem to care about the details. She drifted toward the Volcarok, her eyes barely open, her voice soft as she spoke.
“Give me... the crystal, please.”
The Volcarok let out a deep, rumbling chuckle, its molten eyes narrowing as it peered down at her. “Hah! You think I’ll just hand it over, little one? This crystal is mine. It sustains me, grants me power beyond your understanding.”
Yuuna blinked slowly, her expression blank, as the creature continued, its voice dripping with arrogance.
“This crystal, you see, contains the very essence of the volcano. It grants me strength, makes me invincible! None can stand against me. My skin is harder than stone, my blood is molten fire. You stand no chance, little mortal. And even if you could—”
But Yuuna wasn’t listening. Her gaze drifted toward Gridd, who was standing a few paces behind her. Her voice was soft, barely audible over the Volcarok’s rambling.
“Jump.”
Gridd didn’t hesitate. The moment his feet left the ground, a massive surge of dark power exploded from Yuuna’s body. The air around her warped and distorted as a violent blast of black and dark pink flames erupted outward, consuming everything in its path with a deafening roar. The flames were so hot that the very air ignited, turning the chamber into an inferno of destruction.
The Volcaroks that had surrounded Yuuna were instantly incinerated, their bodies melting into pools of molten rock and blood. The heat was unbearable, the force of the explosion sending shockwaves through the chamber, cracking the stone walls and sending chunks of rock tumbling down from the ceiling. Lava splashed and hissed as it was thrown into the air, mixing with the blood and gore of the fallen creatures.
The leader of the Volcaroks, the one with the Pyrostal Crystal on its head, stood frozen in shock. A massive, gaping hole had been blasted through its stomach, its molten innards spilling out onto the ground in a gruesome display. Its once-proud form now stood broken, its knees trembling as it struggled to comprehend what had just happened.
Yuuna, now behind the Volcarok, stood calmly, her sharp, dragon-like hands wrapped around the Pyrostal Crystal, having already ripped it from the creature’s skull. The Volcarok wheezed, its molten eyes wide with disbelief as it realized it had been defeated.
It collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, its body crumbling into a pile of molten rock and flesh, the last remnants of its life flickering out like a dying flame.
Yuuna, still holding the crystal, barely seemed to register the carnage around her. She looked at Gridd, her eyes half-lidded, her voice as tired as ever.
“Got it.”
As the final breath of the Volcarok escaped its molten lips, Yuuna stood still, the heat of the volcanic ruin swirling around her. The Pyrostal Crystal glowed faintly in her hands, the powerful artifact pulsing with the remnants of the volcanic spirit’s energy. But Yuuna’s eyes were no longer focused on it—her exhaustion had finally caught up with her.
Her wings fluttered weakly, and she swayed on her feet, the adrenaline from the battle fading fast. The fatigue that had been gnawing at her for days overwhelmed her all at once. Her body felt impossibly heavy, her vision blurring as if the world around her were dissolving into darkness.
“Xyenn…” she whispered softly, her voice barely audible, as her legs gave out and she collapsed.
But before she could hit the ground, Gridd was there. The old dwarf moved with surprising speed, catching her in his strong, calloused arms. Her head lolled against his chest, her breathing deep and steady as she fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
Gridd looked down at her, his molten gold eyes softening as he cradled her small, limp form. Her wings drooped, their dark pink feathers dim in the faint light of the ruins, and her halo flickered like a dying ember above her head. She looked so fragile, so unlike the fierce, fiery warrior she usually was. But Gridd knew better. He had known Yuuna her entire life, and he had seen her push herself to her limits time and time again.
With a grunt, Gridd shifted the weight of his hammer over his shoulder and, with Yuuna in his arms, began the long trek back to Ashengale Forge.
“Ahhh, let’s go lass. Ye did enough today.”
By the time they reached the forge, the dwarves of Ashengale were already hard at work, hammering away at the final pieces of Xyenn’s armor. The massive forge roared with life, the heat from the magma rivers casting long shadows across the blackened stone walls.
Gridd kicked open the heavy iron door and stormed into the workshop, his voice booming over the clamor of the busy forge.
“Get that armor done, lads! We’ve no time to waste!”
The dwarves froze for a moment, their eyes wide at the sight of the unconscious Yuuna in Gridd’s arms. But they quickly snapped back to attention, nodding furiously as they redoubled their efforts, their hammers ringing out in a frantic symphony of metal and magic.
Gridd carried Yuuna to a quieter corner of the forge, carefully laying her down on a thick pile of furs and blankets meant for resting workers. He knelt beside her, his eyes scanning her face as he made sure she was breathing steadily. She was still fast asleep, her chest rising and falling softly, her lips barely moving as she mumbled something unintelligible in her dreams.
Gridd sighed, his weathered hand brushing a lock of her dark hair from her face. He looked down at her, his voice barely more than a whisper.
“Ye always push yourself. Rest.”
His voice was thick with the weight of old memories, memories of a younger Yuuna, fierce and determined even then, always pushing herself to the brink for the sake of those she cared about. He had seen her grow from an orphaned child to the powerful, stubborn warrior she was today. She had always been the same—reckless, brave, and selfless to a fault.
Gridd’s eyes softened as he stood, watching over her for a moment longer before turning back to the forge. The dwarves were working at a furious pace now, their hammers striking the enchanted armor with rhythmic precision, their faces set with grim determination. They understood the urgency. They knew what was at stake.
And Gridd, standing at the heart of Ashengale Forge, was determined to see this through. For Yuuna. For Xyenn.
The Pyrostal Crystal glowed faintly in his hand, its power waiting to be unleashed through the arcane runes of the armor.
He cast one last glance at her, sleeping soundly in the corner, and muttered under his breath.
“Back to Vördrheim when this is all over. We’ll give ye a free ride.”