Chapter 4: Flames Beyond the Horizon

Ashen stood at the edge of Emberstead as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold and crimson. The village stretched behind him, quiet yet filled with eyes watching from shadowed doorways and curtained windows. The people didn't speak, but their silence carried the weight of a thousand emotions: hope, fear, and reluctant acceptance.

Old Garin was the only one who approached him. The grizzled blacksmith held a bundle wrapped in cloth, his weathered hands betraying the faint tremor of emotion he wouldn't show on his face.

"Here," Garin said, thrusting the bundle into Ashen's hands. "A few things to keep you alive out there."

Ashen unwrapped it carefully, revealing a sturdy pair of traveling boots, a flint striker, and a small, polished ingot of iron. He recognized the metal instantly—it was the first piece he'd forged as a boy under Garin's guidance.

"Master..." Ashen began, his voice faltering.

Garin shook his head. "Don't. Just promise me you'll keep that fire burning, boy. The world's got enough darkness as it is."

Ashen nodded, unable to find the words to express his gratitude. He strapped Emberfang to his back, the blade's faint glow catching the morning light.

From the road, Elyndra sat astride her horse, watching the exchange with an air of quiet patience. Her green eyes held no judgment, only a silent understanding of the weight of Ashen's departure.

"Time to go, boy," she called. "The sect doesn't wait for stragglers."

Ashen turned to face her, then cast one last look at Emberstead. He met Garin's gaze, gave a firm nod, and took his first step down the road to the unknown.

The path beyond Emberstead was unlike anything Ashen had ever seen. Rolling hills and dense forests stretched for miles, the distant mountains jagged silhouettes against the morning sun. The air was thick with the hum of life—chirping birds, rustling leaves, and the occasional distant roar of something far larger.

Elyndra rode a few paces ahead, her posture relaxed but her eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. Ashen walked beside her, the rhythm of their journey broken only by the occasional clink of Emberfang's hilt against his pack.

"Do you always walk this slow?" Elyndra asked, her tone light but laced with a hint of teasing.

"I've never traveled this far before," Ashen admitted. "Besides, not all of us have horses."

She smirked. "Fair enough. But you'd better pick up the pace soon. The sect isn't a place for the slow or the weak."

Ashen frowned, her words tugging at a deeper insecurity. "Why did you really bring me along? Surely the Radiant Dawn Sect has stronger recruits than a blacksmith's apprentice."

Elyndra's smirk faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "We do. But we don't have someone like you."

"What does that mean?"

She glanced at Emberfang, its runes faintly pulsing with energy. "That blade, and the power inside you, are rare. The Infernal Forge hasn't been seen in centuries, and it's tied to something much bigger than you or me. The sect wants to keep an eye on you—and make sure that power doesn't fall into the wrong hands."

Ashen's grip tightened on the strap of his pack. "So I'm just a weapon to them."

"Maybe," Elyndra said bluntly. "But whether you stay a weapon or become something more—that's up to you."

The forest thickened as they ventured deeper, the sunlight filtering through the canopy in dappled patterns. Ashen felt a strange tension in the air, as though the woods were holding their breath.

Elyndra pulled her horse to a stop, her hand drifting to the hilt of her sword. "We're being watched," she said softly.

Ashen froze, his eyes scanning the undergrowth. He didn't see anything at first, but then he caught the faintest flicker of movement—shadows shifting unnaturally against the trees.

The air grew colder, and a low growl rumbled through the forest. A pair of glowing yellow eyes emerged from the darkness, followed by a hulking beast covered in matted fur and jagged scars. Its claws were as long as daggers, and its breath came out in visible puffs of steam.

"A shadow wolf," Elyndra muttered, drawing her blade. "Nasty creatures. It must've been drawn by the energy from that blade of yours."

The wolf snarled, its gaze fixed on Ashen. Without warning, it lunged.

Ashen barely had time to react. He drew Emberfang, its runes flaring to life as the blade cut through the air. He sidestepped the wolf's charge and swung, the weapon's edge grazing its flank. The creature howled in pain, its wounds glowing faintly before sealing shut.

"They regenerate!" Elyndra shouted, leaping from her horse and slashing at the wolf. Her blade bit deep, but the beast shook off the attack, its yellow eyes burning brighter.

"How do we kill it?" Ashen yelled, dodging another swipe of its claws.

"You don't!" Elyndra shouted back. "Not unless you cut off its connection to the shadows."

Ashen gritted his teeth, his mind racing. The Forge's warmth stirred in his chest, and a familiar voice echoed in his mind.

"Light drives back shadow. Forge what is needed."

His free hand moved instinctively to his pack, where the polished ingot Garin had given him rested. He grabbed it, the metal warm to the touch, and placed it against Emberfang's glowing blade.

"What are you doing?" Elyndra demanded, fending off the wolf's relentless attacks.

"Trust me!" Ashen replied, his voice filled with certainty he didn't fully understand.

He struck the ingot with the hilt of Emberfang, sparks flying as the Forge's energy surged through him. The ingot glowed, reshaping itself in his hands into a small, radiant orb that pulsed with golden light.

"Get ready!" Ashen shouted, throwing the orb toward the wolf.

The orb exploded in a flash of blinding light, illuminating the forest and forcing the shadows to retreat. The wolf howled in agony, its regeneration faltering as its connection to the shadows was severed.

Elyndra seized the moment, her blade striking true and ending the creature with a single, precise blow.

The forest fell silent once more, the tension lifting as the shadows receded. Elyndra sheathed her sword, her gaze fixed on Ashen with a mixture of disbelief and curiosity.

"What was that?" she asked.

Ashen held up Emberfang, its glow steady and warm. "The Forge guided me. It told me what to do."

Elyndra crossed her arms, studying him intently. "That's not normal. Even for a sect recruit, that's... something else."

Ashen met her gaze, his expression resolute. "I'm starting to think nothing about this is normal."

She smirked, shaking her head. "You're right about that. Come on—we need to keep moving. If one shadow wolf found us, there'll be more."

As they resumed their journey, Ashen couldn't shake the feeling that the Forge's voice had a deeper meaning. Light drives back shadow. Was it just a lesson for the fight, or was it something more?

The path ahead felt heavier now, each step taking him further from the life he knew and closer to the flames that awaited.