"So in what manner of accursed place would you send me to now?" said Elyn sarcastically as she leaned on a nearby table with her arms crossed in front of her, the weight of her stance full of exaggerated disapproval.
Drevyn scoffed softly under her breath and shook her head with just the slightest movement before she reached forward and began to unroll the parchment resting in front of her, her fingers moving with practiced ease as she smoothed it out across the surface of the table.
"You think poorly of me, dear," she replied in a tone that was part amusement and part mock offense as her hand continued to press the parchment down flat, so that every crease disappeared and the inked lines became clearer.
"I've even taken the time to request this assignment specifically for you and only you," she added, her voice light yet still carrying that familiar edge of purpose.
Then she glanced at Elyn, a faint smirk rising on her lips as if she was already enjoying what was coming next.
"Come and take a look at this," she said, stepping slightly to the side.
Elyn raised a single brow in silent suspicion but said nothing as she moved forward, her boots tapping lightly against the floor as she came closer to the table, her eyes narrowing just a bit as she looked down at what Drevyn had laid out.
"A map," Elyn stated with a clear tone, her voice even and focused as her gaze traced the ink that covered the parchment in front of her — a long winding road, various symbols scattered along the path, and at the very end was something far more distinct, something marked deliberately, a bold title inked in dark letters that read, "Dungeon of Erizaren"
"So you want me to delve into a dungeon," Elyn asked, her voice carrying a touch of disbelief as her eyes stayed fixed on the map spread out before her, then without waiting for a response, she continued with a sharp tone, "To do what exactly?"
"An artifact," Drevyn replied without missing a beat, her response quick and confident as she reached beneath the table and pulled out a notebook that looked small but thick, the leather cover worn and the corners frayed as if it had been handled many times before over the years.
She opened it in one smooth motion and began flipping through the aged pages, each one filled with writing, sketches, and scattered symbols.
Until finally she arrived at a page near the middle, where a drawing of a ring took up nearly the entire space, the details etched with care and precision.
"An artifact from a lost civilization is rumored to be hidden here," Drevyn said, her voice lower now, and more serious.
The shift in tone making it clear that she wasn't exaggerating or speculating—this was something real, something valuable
"You'll need to go into the dungeon, make your way through whatever traps or guardians lie within, retrieve the artifact, and return it to me," she explained, lifting her eyes to meet Elyn's with a look that was both firm and expectant, "Simple enough"
"And the reward?" Elyn asked as she tilted her head slightly to the side, her interest clearly leaning more toward compensation than the task itself, her voice tinged with curiosity but was still firm.
Without saying a word at first, Drevyn raised both her hands and extended all ten fingers with a slight flourish, letting the gesture speak for itself before clarifying.
"For ten whole months," she began, "we will supply Mara with all the materials she requires to continue developing the variant she's currently working on—no interruptions, no shortages, full access"
Elyn let out a scoff, not out of disbelief, but because it hardly surprised her that Drevyn already knew about Mara's work, already had the details in mind, already planned this from the start
"I'm not surprised you already knew that," she said dryly, shaking her head faintly before continuing with a small sigh.
"Very well," she added at last, nodding as if sealing the agreement in her mind, "Ten months it is."
Drevyn then wrapped up the parchment with careful hands and shut the notebook with a firm motion before extending both towards Elyn,
"You'll need it," she said simply, offering no further explanation
Elyn said nothing in response, her silence speaking for her as she reached forward and took both items from Drevyn's hands, sliding the parchment and the notebook into a pouch attached to her belt and then securing them inside and tightening the strap.
Without another glance, she turned and began walking toward the exit of the room, her steps steady and determined.
"Thread the roads carefully, girl," Drevyn called out, her voice quieter now as the distance between them grew, fading just slightly by the time Elyn stepped out of the room and into the main lounge of the hideout.
Once outside the room, she didn't pause or look around, instead heading straight toward the same entrance she had come through earlier, her pace brisk, wasting no time or motion as she exited the hideout entirely
===
The moment she stepped into the open, she felt the change in the air—the shift in light, the subtle breeze brushing against her cloak, and the faint scent of the city carried by the wind
She took a single breath of the outside environment before moving again, making her way down the street toward the main square of the city, her steps purposeful as her mind focused on what needed to be done.
There was only two goals in her head for now—resupply, and more importantly, find a new sword, a spare she could replace her already chipped sword with.
Not bothering to slow down, she moved through the narrow street and followed the path that led into the more crowded part of the city, the noise of the people around her rising with every step she took, the hum of life growing louder with each passing second.
The square was filled with people of all kinds, from younger boys running with string-bound toys to elderly folk hunched over small baskets of herbs.
In every direction there were stalls and merchants calling out their wares—some selling glittering trinkets, others offering fruits or flatbreads wrapped in cloth.
Murmurs floated in the air like smoke, overlapping with the sounds of laughter, light-hearted arguments, and the constant shuffling of feet as people weaved through one another, creating a busy chaos that filled the space with motion and sound.
And yet, despite all the noise and movement, Elyn's ears picked up something else—a clear and steady sound that rose above the rest.
*Clang! *Clang! *Clang!
The rhythmic clang of metal striking metal, a noise that could only belong to one place'
A smithery
Her head turned slightly, her body instinctively pivoting toward the direction of the sound as she adjusted her path and began to walk with more urgency, slipping through the crowd like a shadow sliding between beams of light.
Her hood remained low, shielding most of her face, and though bodies moved all around her, none managed to slow her down as she passed swiftly through the busy crowd, her steps fluid, not once colliding with another person.
After several turns and a short push through a final cluster of shoppers, she reached her destination—the smithery's entrance, a plain but solid door framed in old stone and wood.
Without hesitation, she stepped forward, placed her hand on the metal knob, and twisted it, the hinges creaking with age as the door slowly swung open.
*Creak...!
The moment she crossed the threshold, the smell of smoke and heated iron filled her nose, thick and heavy, clinging to the air as the inside of the shop welcomed her with the constant sound of metal being pounded into shape.
*Clang! *Clang! *Clang!
A burly man stood near the anvil, bald-headed with skin browned by fire and time, his arms thick from years of forging, and his gloves coated in dust and blackened soot
As he noticed her presence, he stopped his work and lifted his head, eyes landing on her with a welcoming grin.
"Ah! Customer!" he said, stepping back slightly and setting the hammer down beside the anvil with a metallic thud before clapping his gloved hands together, sending up a faint puff of ash as he brushed the dust off.
"Lookin' for armor? Blades perhaps?" he asked, his voice booming slightly in the small forge.
"I need a sword," Elyn said plainly, her tone direct, "Lightweight, durable."
The smith raised a brow and let out a short huff that might've been a laugh before he reached up to ruffle his thick beard, clearly amused by the vagueness of the request.
"Well… that's vague," he muttered with a smile before lifting one hand and gesturing with a broad sweep of his arm, motioning for her to follow him.
"Come, lass," he said, turning around, "Take a peek at my collection."