Rain, Fire, and Trust

As dawn slowly broke, heavy rain drenched the mouth of the cave. The droplets created a rhythmic symphony that echoed into its depths, painting a cold yet serene atmosphere.

Freya stirred in her sleep, her eyelids fluttering open. Blurred memories of the previous night rushed into her mind, prompting her to sit up with sharp alertness.

Her piercing eyes scanned the surroundings until they settled on herself. She realized her body was now draped in a shirt that was clearly not hers. Her brows furrowed as her mind raced with possibilities.

"Oh, you're finally awake," a calm voice came from nearby. She turned and saw Eryon leaning against the cave wall, shirtless, busy arranging firewood near the dwindling flames.

"What did you do to me?" she demanded coldly, her gaze sharp as a blade. An intimidating aura began radiating from her, signaling she was ready to strike if necessary.

Eryon looked up briefly, meeting Freya's gaze without fear. "Calm down. I only put my shirt on you to cover you up. Your clothes were nearly burnt to ashes from that explosion. I didn't do anything inappropriate."

Freya processed his words, her doubt slowly outweighing her initial suspicion. His explanation made sense. After all, Eryon was shirtless because he had given his shirt to her. His calm demeanor also seemed to reflect his sincerity.

A pang of guilt began to gnaw at her conscience.

"So, you only put your shirt on me?" she asked, her voice losing its sharp edge.

"I'm a man. I wouldn't stoop so low as to violate a defenseless woman," Eryon stated firmly, his tone filled with conviction.

Freya bit her lower lip, regret creeping in for her hasty accusations. "I'm sorry for misjudging you," she apologized sincerely.

"It's alright," Eryon replied with a warm smile. "It only shows that you're a vigilant woman, not easily swayed by men."

"Thank you," Freya responded, a soft smile forming on her lips.

The conversation gradually tapered off into a comfortable silence. The tension in the cave was slowly replaced by the soothing melody of rain outside.

Finally, breaking the silence, Freya asked softly but with curiosity, "By the way, what's your name?"

"Eryon Ashbourn," he replied simply, lifting his head to meet her gaze.

"A good name," she commented, her lips curling into a small smile.

"And you?" Eryon asked in return. "I only know your name is Freya."

"Freya Claire," she said, her smile widening.

"Beautiful name," Eryon nodded lightly, appreciating the moment.

"Thank you…"

As their conversation flowed, the air between them grew lighter. Their relationship seemed to shift from strangers to companions. The earlier hostility had dissipated, replaced by a comfortable camaraderie. Freya found herself enjoying Eryon's company, talking to him as if they were old friends.

...

Time felt as though it slowed, stretching into an endless void, as the unrelenting rain outside the cave showed no sign of ceasing.

Eryon sat in silent contemplation, his gaze fixed on the sword in his grasp.

[Name: Durandal Sword, a legendary, indestructible blade with a high affinity for all elements, including magic and divine power]

[Tier: A]

[Condition: Good]

An A-tier weapon was now in his possession.

"Freya, are you sure you want to give me this sword? This is your family's heirloom. It feels too valuable," Eryon asked earnestly, his eyes still locked on the gleaming blade.

"Absolutely. It can serve as a replacement for your spear. After all, you saved my life from that monster," Freya affirmed sincerely.

Taking her words to heart, Eryon nodded. He had shared with Freya that his spear, Gungnir, had been lost, leaving him frustrated. It was likely still at the scene, but he wasn't sure if it could be retrieved.

Studying the Durandal sword once more, its indestructible nature piqued his curiosity. He hefted the blade, swinging it a few times to feel its weight and balance.

The sword moved effortlessly through the air, its swings smooth yet precise. Eryon was mesmerized by the craftsmanship of the weapon.

"How does it feel? Quite the masterpiece, isn't it?" Freya asked, a hint of pride lighting up her smile.

"I'll gladly accept this sword," Eryon admitted, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Good. I trust you'll wield it well," Freya replied, her smile unwavering.

"I will," Eryon nodded firmly.

With a satisfied nod, Freya rose to her feet. "I think my strength has returned. It's time for us to leave. I can escort you if you'd like," she offered.

"No need. I want to take care of a few things here first. Besides, I'm eager to test this sword," Eryon replied.

Freya nodded, asking no further questions, her genuine smile lighting her face. "Well, maybe we'll meet again if you enroll at Leyndell Academy."

"Leyndell Academy? Isn't that one of the top ten academies in the England Empire? Don't worry, I'll secure my place there," Eryon asserted confidently.

"I'll look forward to that. Now, I must take my leave," Freya said, turning towards the cave's entrance.

Freya turned back to Eryon, her smile warm as the morning sun. "Farewell."

"Safe travels," Eryon replied, his smile mirroring hers.

With a final smile, Freya turned and faced the open world. A pair of radiant golden wings unfurled from her back, lifting her gracefully into the air.

With a fluid motion, she exited the cave, leaving Eryon alone with his newly acquired weapon.