In the Fire of the Forge: The Celestial Tear
The forges were run by human and non-human blacksmiths who worked tirelessly. Tchhhhhh... Half-human, half-elemental creatures with forged arms of fire and rock worked side by side with elves, dwarves, goblins and strong-willed humans. All were united in a common goal: to create armor and weapons that could withstand the armaments of neighboring kingdoms.
Bang! Bang! The burning heat of the flames did not affect the blacksmiths despite the sweat on their foreheads. Crack! The hammers were knocking, Clang! Clang!, the anvils made noise, and the creatures formed the edges of the armor.
The dragon Arelon stood in the center of the workshop. Vooosh! He mastered the very essence of fire by transforming every spark into a source of renewal.
As for the archangel Gabriel, he stood not far from him with his white wings shining in the light of the fire. Despite his majestic appearance, he was not there to be admired but rather to ensure the perfection of the creations.
— Gabriel: «Arelon, the blacksmiths are at their maximum capacity. It's time to strengthen the unity of artifacts. I feel that some of our allies are beginning to doubt our commitment to them.»
—Arelon (smiling): «Fear is natural, Gabriel. Every major project creates uncertainty. But they are mistaken if they believe that our efforts will run out of steam. Every blade forged here, every shield we create is a promise to the kingdom and its people. We have given everything for Cælora, and we will continue. »
Gabriel had anxiety in him. He knew that Arelon could be obsessed with his projects to the point of forgetting the subtleties of alliances. It was not a criticism but an observation.
Grrrrmmmmbbbll!, At that moment, a noise like a rumble was heard. A young elven blacksmith shouted:
«Master Arelon! The magma anvil almost cracked! We risk a break in the main forge if this is not repaired quickly!»
Arelon raised his hand to stop the panic and turned to Gabriel.
— «As always, the urgency of the moment must not make us forget the perfection we seek to achieve. We must act quickly but with discernment.»
Gabriel understood and went to the forge.
A group of dwarven blacksmiths had gathered around the magma anvil which crackled ominously.
Crack! Crack!
A tall dwarf with a braided beard turned to Gabriel:
«It could harm the whole production, Lord Gabriel. Tchhhhhh... The flow of fire will have to be balanced before we are able to continue.»
Gabriel advanced, touching the edges of the anvil with the tip of his finger. Pzzzzt! The metal glistened slowly, then stabilized under the divine energy it gave off, which had calmed the heat.
The dwarf watched Gabriel's gesture with admiration before speaking:
— «This metal is impregnated with such power. If we don't find the right balance, it could backfire.»
— Gabriel: «You underestimate the potential of the forge little man. The metal reacts to the will of its blacksmith. It's not a question of control but rather of understanding.»
The dwarf understood and went back to work, Clang! Clang!, he redoubled his efforts to help with the repair. Arelon who was watching from afar, knew that tensions were growing high among the blacksmiths but he had no time to waste reassuring each of them. This kingdom depended on the artifacts they forged and it had a much greater purpose.
A figure was slowly advancing from Arelon. Tap... Tap... Tap... She was a woman with turquoise eyes dressed in a tunic bordered with luminous runes. She bowed to him with respect.
«Master Arelon, we have completed the first round of reinforced armor for the elite battalions. But... there are murmurs among the soldiers. They doubt our ability to protect them from divine threats.»
— Arelon: «Murmurs are nothing, Astrid. It is action that makes power. Whoomph! As long as these armors are imbued with the fire of the divine forge, they will stand up to anything. All that's missing is their faith in our work. We can't guarantee them an immediate victory, but we are giving them a chance they wouldn't have otherwise. »
Astrid nodded and straightened up. Arelon still absorbed in his thoughts raised a hand to the sky.
Fwoooooosh! A shower of flames fell from the clouds and he absorbed them in the forge.
«Don't worry. The fire here... It's immortal.»
Gabriel approached Arelon when he saw him immersed in his own reflections.
«Our enemies are approaching, Arelon. We must redouble our efforts. The artifacts must be ready before dawn.»
— Arelon: «Before dawn... he repeated.«This is an imperative. May the fire never be extinguished.»
Clang! Clang! The pounding of metal echoed all night in the anvil into the night.
The activity in the forges became more intense, the fate of the kingdom rested in the hands of these blacksmiths driven by the primordial fire.
Lyara stood on the terrace of the fortress and observed the training field where her soldiers were practicing under the calculating eye of the Archangel Raphael.
Vwoom. Her hands impregnated with a silvery light drew circles in the air shaping the light energy to his liking. Bzzt. Her shields of incomparable purity defied the world itself. Still, a sense of doubt was in his mind.
Will they be ready when the time comes?
Clang! Clang! Swords clashed not far away.
The soldiers, relentlessly, rained with their discipline forged under the guidance of archangel Raphael whose rigor was surpassed only by his loyalty to the kingdom. Lyara knew that their potential was immense.
As she looked at Raphael, she felt a sense of gratitude and mistrust. The archangel had always been an undisputed leader but she was aware that his position as a mentor might one day put him in opposition to his own choices.
While their common goal was to protect Cælora, their methods were sometimes the opposite. Raphael was a firm believer in brute force and the test of battle to build character while she was more calculating and preferred strategic unity and invisible defenses.
There was a slight smile on her lips when she thought of the secret unit she had set up in collaboration with Archangel Metatron. They had devised secret lines of communication that relayed the kingdom's heavenly fortresses.
Both fragile and invincible, these magical paths allowed the fortresses to talk to each other without ever being detected by the enemy. It was an underlying network, invisible but essential. Lyara knew that it wasn't brutality that would make the difference but rather the ability to anticipate and know where to strike before the opponent even noticed.
Ding... Ding...
The sound of a bell in the distance interrupted his thoughts. She was now heading to the entrance of the strategy room where Metatron was waiting for her.
Metatron: «The lines of communication are ready, Lyara. All that's missing is the signal.»
She had a running chill down her spine at the thought of what might happen if these lines were ever used. The kingdom had enemies but equally dangerous were those within, those who are willing to sell their souls for a power they did not yet understand.
— Lyara: «I know, Metatron. But these lines... These are not just channels of communication. These are invisible chains that if discovered could destroy everything.»
—Metatron: «That won't happen. That's why we hid them under layers of ancient magic. But there are forces watching us, Lyara. We have to be ready for anything.»
Lyara sensed a strange camaraderie in Archangel Metatron's eyes, a mutual respect, but also the tension of an uncertain future. She knew Metatron and his loyalty for Volmeryn but something in his tone suggested that he was keeping secrets he didn't yet share.
Lyara: «We'll be ready, Metatron. Cælora will be protected whatever it takes.»
But in his heart, there was another doubt that was awakening even more relevant than the previous one. The protection of the kingdom did not depend solely on its magic shields or the power of armies. Everything could be destroyed in an instant if one did not see the invisible enemies lurking in the shadows.
Cælora's destiny rested on a web of fragile alliances, hopes and sacrifices. A thread that could be cut at any moment and Lyara knew that once that thread was broken, no one not even her strongest shields or strategies could prevent the fall.
CHAPTER ENDED.