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The clang of hammer against steel echoed through the open walls of the forge. Smoke curled lazily from the chimney, and the air reeked of scorched iron and burning coal.
The blacksmith—a burly man with arms like tree trunks and a soot-stained apron—looked up from the sword he was sharpening. Behind him stood a wiry man with unkempt greying hair and a tattered traveler's cloak: Nabu.
Merlin's violet eyes swept over the forge before he stepped forward.
[Scanning Target…]
Name: Nabu Al-Rashid
Age: 48
Race: Human
Origin: Artemyra (Drifter Lineage — Former Cartogopher)
Titles: Wayfarer
Emotions: Cautious | Wary | Curious
Combat proficiency: average human
Thoughts: "Travelers?"
"So, you're Nabu?" he asked, voice calm.
The wiry man turned, narrowing his eyes before giving a slow nod. "Depends who's asking."
"Someone who's looking for a ride. I heard you've traveled to this island."
That earned him a low whistle from the blacksmith.
Nabu scratched his chin. "Not many have the stomach for it. Sea's rough. Most beg to turn back after the second day."
"I'm not most," Merlin replied coolly.
Nabu studied him, then his gaze shifted past him—landing on the woman behind this strangely confident man. His eyes lingered on her peculiar hairstyle: long, black hair that veiled her face. He noted the bruises and the faint remnants of a collar she now wore around her wrist like a broken chain.
"What's her deal?" asked the blacksmith, raising an eyebrow.
"She's my companion," Merlin replied evenly.
Nabu shrugged and looked toward the rear of the shop. "Boat's old, but she floats. We leave in one day. The journey's three days long. You pay me half now, half when we reach shore. Change your mind halfway there—tough luck. I still get paid."
"Sure," Merlin said.
"But, we're going all the way."
Nabu gave a dry chuckle. "I respect that."
Merlin turned away, uninterested in further conversation. His eyes drifted across the cluttered shop—racks of chipped weapons, rusting armor, bent breastplates, and dusty trinkets.
One item stood apart: a black cape hanging at the back wall, oddly pristine amidst the soot-covered chaos of the forge. Its fabric was smooth, well-kept, and called to him.
"This cloak—how much for it?" Merlin asked, already stepping toward it.
The blacksmith followed his movement. "That thing? Some merchant tossed it in a trade. Looked like he couldn't get rid of it fast enough. Doesn't do much, far as I can tell. Looks good though. Durable. Stitched from some kind of beast hide. Strong stuff."
Merlin's fingers traced the edge. The cloth was unnaturally light but resilient. Hidden along the inner linings were markings—sigils only visible to someone attuned to the Rukh.
It resonated with him. Without doubt, this cloak was meant to be his.
"I'll take it," he said. "Add it to the total."
The blacksmith grunted. "You've got a good eye, kid."
Merlin pulled the cape from the wall and draped it over his shoulders. The air shimmered. The Rukh stirred—as if greeting an old friend.
Then, his grimoire opened.
System Log:
(New item obtained. Please provide a name to unlock its functions.)
"Well, that's a first," Merlin muttered under his breath.
"Your name is now…"
"…Emrys."
The moment he spoke, the cape fluttered like a living thing. The violet Rukh surged into the fabric. Darkness spread outward, engulfing his plain robes. In an instant, they transformed into sleek obsidian leather, tailored to his frame. The cape flowed behind him like a second shadow.
Nabu stumbled back. "What—the fuck?"
Morgana's breath caught in her throat. The transformation had frozen her. She stared—not with fear, but awe. The magnificent cloak clung to him like gravity. His violet eyes glinted beneath the hood, and the faint smile on his lips…
It made her heart skip.
She looked away, cheeks flushed, thoughts suddenly racing with unwelcome intensity.
Nabu coughed violently, nearly dropping the tool in his hand. "I—what—Did that thing just eat you?! Are you some kind of chosen one from a damn fairy tale? One second you're buying gear, the next your cape is having a demonic tantrum!"
The blacksmith said nothing, but his blank expression revealed he too was rattled.
Merlin smiled sheepishly, offering no explanation.
"We'll be back by noon," he said, tossing a coin pouch onto the counter.
"Be ready to sail."
With a nod, he turned and exited the forge. His cape billowed behind him like a stormcloud. Morgana followed closely, still shaken.
"…What the hell is going on today," Nabu muttered.
Outside, the streets of Agrabad were quieter now. The sun had begun to set, casting long shadows on the sandstone roads.
Merlin walked in silence, the soft clack of his sandals echoing. Morgana walked beside him, her own feet now wrapped in linen he'd bought earlier.
"…Why help me?" she asked quietly.
He paused, then looked at her—not with pity, but clarity.
"Because you were a beautiful woman in need."
Her cheeks reddened, and she looked away quickly, blinking fast. He smiled at her reaction.
Teasing her was fun.
Morgana kept glancing at him but said nothing.
"You've been quiet," he said at last, voice soft but perceptive.
She hesitated. Then gave a dry chuckle. "I have something to confess."
He stayed silent.
She continued, "I'm a descendant of the current Empress of the Kou Empire."
His eyes narrowed, but he didn't interrupt.
"I thank you for your help… but I'll only bring you pain and suffering if I stay."
They stopped walking. She turned away.
"I was born in secret. Hidden. Even my mother feared what I might grow into. I didn't want this magic, this… connection to darkness. But it calls to me."
Her voice trembled.
"Everyone who finds out where I'm from tries to use me… or kill me."
She looked down at the stone path. "You're probably wondering why I'm telling you all this. It's because you're the first person who's ever been kind to me without wanting something in return."
"I don't want to drag you into my problems. You're… a good man, Merlin. You shouldn't lose your life for someone like me."
Merlin stepped forward and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm here," he said. "Even if your mother comes—I'll be here. Even if your darkness threatens to consume you—I'll be here. Even if the whole world tries to control you…"
His eyes locked with hers.
"I'll be here."
For a moment, her breath caught. Then she stepped forward into his arms, resting her head against his chest. Silent tears streaked his robe. Merlin held her close.
"Don't worry my future dark empress… No matter what… I'll be here."