The Tower King

"Hi, Bren," she replied, still smiling. She nodded toward Sora. "He could use some help. His weapon is in bad shape."

The blacksmith slowly wiped his hands on an old rag, then climbed down from his workbench and approached them. His gaze immediately fell on Sora, then on the weapon he was holding.

He didn't reach out his hand. "I don't repair for strangers."

Sora didn't respond. He simply held his gaze, looking neutral, while Elwen raised her eyebrows slightly.

"Bren... at least take a look at it."

He sighed, then reluctantly stepped forward. With a quick movement, he grabbed the weapon Sora was holding out to him. He turned it over, inspected it, and frowned when he saw the condition of the blade.

"It's cracked all the way to the spine. Poorly balanced. The tempering is uneven. Do you even know where this sword came from?" "

Sora lowered her eyes, but Elwen replied immediately:

"It's a sacred blade."

A heavy silence fell over the hut. Bren slowly looked up at her.

"What?" "

"You heard me. It's a real sacred sword."

Bren looked at the sword again, this time more closely. His eyebrows furrowed further, but something in his expression softened, almost reluctantly.

"A sacred blade, huh..."

He grunted, shook his head, then returned to his workbench. "I can fix it. I'll have to reforge part of the blade. Two days. Maybe three. I can't promise anything about the balance. It's old."

Elwen smiled, as if she knew he would eventually give in. "It'll be fine. He'll wait."

Bren didn't answer. He was already examining the metal under the glow of the forge, his brow furrowed.

Elwen motioned for Sora to come outside. He followed her without a word, leaving behind the stifling heat and the tools hanging on the walls.

Once outside, he took a deep breath. The air smelled of humus and damp wood.

"Thank you," he said simply.

Elwen shrugged. "He grumbles a lot, but he has the steadiest hands in all of Kael'Oran. You're lucky."

As he began to cross the hamlet, Elwen stopped suddenly and realized something. "Wait." "

Sora, surprised, turned back to her. "What?"

Elwen narrowed her eyes, as if trying to gather her thoughts. Then she stared at him, a slightly embarrassed look on her face. "Where are you going to sleep tonight?" "

He blinked, taken aback by the question. The truth was, he hadn't really thought about it. He had followed Elwen to Kael'Oran, let himself be carried along by events, and now that his weapon was in Bren's hands, he had nothing left to do... and nowhere to go.

He simply shrugged slightly. "I'll find a quiet spot. I'm not picky."

Elwen looked at him with a mixture of amusement and dismay. "Are you planning on sleeping outside?"

"I've slept in worse places."

She crossed her arms, looking unconvinced. "Maybe, but not here. You risk getting kicked out of the village in the early hours of the morning, or having Varlen on your back before you've even closed your eyes."

Sora raised an eyebrow. "Is that what the guy at the entrance is like?"

"Let's just say he sleeps with one eye open when he knows there's a stranger around." "

She paused briefly, then sighed, as if she had finally given in to the obvious. "Fine. You can sleep at my place."

Sora stared at her, a little taken aback. "Are you sure? I don't want to impose." "

"If I'm offering, it's because I don't mind. Besides, it's not like you have a ton of options."

She resumed walking at a leisurely pace, her hands behind her back, as if the matter had already been settled. Sora stood frozen for a second, then followed her in silence.

As they once again made their way between the small stone and wooden huts, he glanced around. The inhabitants continued to watch them from a distance, occasionally whispering among themselves, but their stares were a little less intense. Perhaps because he was now walking alongside Elwen.

She, in any case, seemed perfectly at ease.

"Do you live alone?" he asked, just to break the silence.

"Yes. For a few years now."

Sora nodded, but couldn't help asking a question. "What about your parents? Don't you live with them?"

Elwen looked at him with a surprised expression. "Wait, how old do you think I am? I'm not going to live with my parents my whole life."

Hesitating for a moment, Sora looked her up and down. "I don't know... I'd say you're 17 or 18." "

A slight laugh escaped her lips when she heard Sora's serious answer. "It was a rhetorical question, I wasn't expecting a serious answer. But no, I'm not that young, I'm already 20. "

"Oh wow, I didn't expect that," he replied unconsciously.

Elwen frowned and pouted for a few seconds. "Just say I'm old, it'll be quicker. "

Realizing the mistake he had just made, Sora apologized and caught up with Elwen, who had walked ahead of him.

A moment later, they left the main road of the hamlet and took a small grassy path leading to a more secluded hut, slightly away from the others.

"Here we are. It's not big, but you'll see, it's a good place to sleep."

She opened the wooden door with a simple gesture and stepped aside to let him in.

Sora hesitated for a split second before crossing the threshold.

And for the first time in several days, he felt something different envelop him. A kind of quiet calm. As if, in the middle of this remote forest, he had found shelter, however temporary....

The next three days passed in a strange bubble of tranquility.

Every morning, Elwen would leave the hut early, without always saying where she was going. Sometimes she would return with a basket of provisions, other times simply with her hands in her pockets and a distant look in her eyes, as if she had spent the day wandering aimlessly around the village. When she was there, she would chat with Sora about this and that. She would ask him questions about his past, which he would sometimes answer, but often evasively, and she would tell him a little about her own past, her life in Kael'Oran, her childhood near the woods, and her loneliness, too. She never complained, but Sora sensed that she carried within her a kind of gentle melancholy, like a habit that one no longer even tries to shake off.

For his part, Sora stayed indoors most of the time. He had tried to go out once or twice, but the suspicious, heavy stares of the villagers were enough to make him turn back. He had never been very sociable, but now the creeping hostility gave him a good excuse to hide away.

So he spent most of his time alone, training.

Unable to wield his sword, he had decided to work on a skill he had neglected for too long: Piercing Teeth.

He rediscovered the movement, at first clumsy, then more fluid. His arms stretched out, his muscles remembered. He mimicked attacks against an old cushion hanging in the corner of the room, visualizing the trajectories, the breaking points, the sensation of the spike piercing the wool. A hundred times. Then two hundred. Then more.

By the end of the third day, his limbs felt heavy, but also more precise. He wasn't gaining raw power, not without a real target, but he was refining his control. Piercing Teeth was becoming faster, sharper. Like a bite that would strike without warning.

And then, finally, on the morning of the fourth day, Elwen entered the hut with a slight smile on his lips.

"Your sword is ready."

Sora sat up immediately. He said nothing, but his eyes lit up with a spark of impatience mixed with relief. He was already putting on his jacket when she added:

"Bren is waiting for you at the forge. And he seems to be in a bad mood. More than usual, I mean." "

Sora raised an eyebrow. "He was already pretty bad, wasn't he?"

Elwen snickered. "You'll see. Come on."

They left the hut together. The morning was still foggy, the air warm and heavy with lazy humidity. The villagers had returned to their usual silence as they passed by, but Sora paid no attention. He wasn't there for them.

He was there to retrieve his weapon.

Bren's forge was already smoking at full blast when they arrived.

Sparks flew from the opening, and the dull thud of metal against the anvil echoed across the cobblestones. Bren didn't immediately look up when they approached. He was bent over his workbench, meticulously polishing a piece of armor, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his face blackened with soot.

It was only after a long silence that he deigned to look at them.

"You took your time," he grumbled coldly, without even specifying who he was addressing.

Sora, unimpressed, approached calmly. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Bren snorted loudly, put down his tool, and disappeared behind a canvas curtain. A few seconds later, he emerged with something wrapped in black cloth, which he slowly placed on the wooden block, as one would place a sacred object.

He carefully unwrapped the cloth, revealing the blade.

Sora felt his breath catch for a moment.

The sword had retained its original shape, the one he knew, but it seemed... changed. The metal, smoother, gleamed with a subtle luster. The crack that had run through it was now nothing more than a memory. The contours had been reworked, and the pommel, previously unbalanced, had been replaced by another, adorned with a discreet motif representing a stylized flame. The whole thing exuded solidity, intention. The sacred, perhaps.

"I did what I could," Bren said, arms crossed. "The blade was unstable. I had to strip it down and reforge the core."

He paused, then added in a lower voice:

"It wasn't a normal blade. It withstood a temperature that would have cracked any other steel." "

Sora touched the hilt with her fingertips, then gently took the weapon in her hand. It was heavier, but balanced. Alive. She raised it, twirling it in the air. A discreet trail split the space, almost imperceptible.

"It's perfect," he whispered.

Bren didn't answer. He just grunted as he picked up his piece of armor.

But as they turned to leave, his gruff voice caught up with them: "It's not free." "

Sora stopped. Elwen turned around with a smile, ready to intervene, but Bren raised his hand.

"Not for you." He looked Sora straight in the eye. "You didn't pay for it."

Sora bowed his head. "What can I do to make up for it?"

The blacksmith sized him up for a few seconds. His gaze lingered on the blade, on the boy's posture, on the sword he had just repaired.

Then, finally, he replied, "You're going to use it."

A silence followed. Sora narrowed his eyes slightly. "That's it?" "

"I didn't do this so it could hang from your waist in its sheath without you using it. If you don't do anything with this blade, you'll have stolen from me." "

His tone was harsh, but there was no anger. Rather, it was a kind of dry demand. A silent demand for respect.

Sora nodded slowly. "Then I'll use it."

Bren grunted again, as if he wasn't really expecting an answer. Then he returned to his workbench, as if they weren't there anymore.

As she left the forge, Elwen glanced at Sora, a discreet smile on her lips. "He likes you, you know."

Sora raised an eyebrow. "He growls as if he wants to throw me into the forge." "

"That's his way of saying he likes you."

She took a few steps, then added, "Now what?"

Sora didn't answer Elwen's question right away. He stood there, right in front of the forge, his gaze lost somewhere between the treetops and the reflections on the blade he was still holding in his hand.

He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly.

"I don't know," he finally said.

Elwen looked at him sideways, without mockery or surprise. "So what are you going to do? Wander around until something happens to you?"

He smiled slightly. "Maybe." "

She shrugged as if to say, it's your problem, but her gaze remained curious.

Sora finally sheathed his weapon in the patched scabbard he still carried. The new blade deserved better, but that would be for later.

"I have to stay here for another two months."

Elwen blinked. "Two months?"

He nodded. "It's... complicated. Let's just say I made a promise. To someone. I have to stay in this forest to train."

"I'm not going back to Kael'Oran," he added calmly. "From now on, I'm going to survive on my own. Sleep outside, hunt, fight monsters. It won't be comfortable, but it's necessary."

She remained silent for a moment, digesting his words.

"You plan to live like a hermit in the woods?"

"I don't see any other way. Not all the creatures in this forest are within my reach. But if I want to progress, this is where it has to be done."

He slowly sheathed the blade with a precise movement. "And I've just spent three days doing almost nothing, so I need to get back to training now if I want to improve."

He paused, his gaze lost in the morning mist floating above the village. "And staying warm in a hut isn't going to make me any stronger."

Elwen sighed, crossing her arms. "Do you at least have a plan?"

Sora nodded slowly. "Absolutely not... I'll take it day by day." "

She didn't answer right away. Then, in a lower voice, she said, "Then... I'm coming with you."

He turned to her, surprised. "What?"

"You heard me. I'm coming with you."

"Elwen, you... you live here. This is your home. Your village."

" And you have no idea what you're doing." She smiled softly. "Sora, you want to become stronger, fine, but you're not invincible. And you don't know how a forest lives yet. I do."

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. She stared at him directly, her arms still crossed, but with a sincere gleam in her eyes.

"And besides, I like you," she added with a shrug. "You're quiet, clumsy, and you don't even know where you're going to sleep, but you're honest."

He stared at her, uncertain.

"I've got nothing to lose, Sora. And you need to stay alive. So let me come."

He finally smiled, somewhat reluctantly. "Okay... But I'm warning you, I snore."

She raised an eyebrow. "Don't worry, I know. And at worst, it'll scare the animals away."

They set off, moving away from the forge and slowly leaving the hamlet behind, like two shadows ready to disappear into the depths of the forest.