Blue flames swallowed the Ashford workshop.
They climbed across the walls like living rivers, illuminating every ancient rune hidden beneath decades of soot and ash.
The familiar home where Drake had spent his childhood no longer resembled a humble blacksmith’s shop.
It had become a sanctuary of forgotten history, awakened after centuries of silence.
Drake stood frozen, the Origin Hammer gripped tightly in both hands.
His grandfather remained beside the old anvil, his weathered fingers resting gently upon the battered smithing hammer that had accompanied him for most of his life.
The old man’s breathing was uneven.
Every breath seemed heavier than the last.
Yet the blue fire surrounding him bent slightly toward Gareth, as if recognizing the final Forge Warden who had protected this place for decades.
Ember stood upon Drake’s shoulder, unusually quiet.
Through their bond, Drake felt confusion.
The tiny dragon could sense that something important was about to happen, even if it couldn’t understand why.
Granite, the freed stone ape, slowly approached Gareth.
The enormous beast lowered itself until one knee touched the wooden floor.
Then both.
Its massive head bowed.
Not out of fear.
Out of respect.
The two-headed wolf followed.
Then the crystal-feathered bird.
One after another, every beast whose collar had been broken lowered itself before the old blacksmith.
Captain Veller watched the scene in stunned silence.
His sword remained in his hand, but its tip had fallen toward the floor.
“What…” he whispered.
“…are they doing?” Vulcan answered without taking his eyes from Gareth.
“They remember.” Captain Veller frowned.
“Remember what?” “The first law.” Drake glanced toward the guardian.
“The first law?” Vulcan slowly turned his helmet.
“A Beast Blacksmith creates family.” “Every forged beast carries that truth within its soul.” “The descendants of those ancient beasts remember.” Granite lifted its head.
Its dark eyes never left Gareth.
For a moment, Drake almost imagined gratitude within them.
Perhaps it wasn’t imagination.
Perhaps somewhere inside Granite’s bloodline, an echo still remained.
An echo left behind by the Beast Blacksmith who had forged its ancestor thousands of years ago.
Outside the workshop, another explosion echoed through Blackstone Village.
People screamed.
The church bell rang frantically.
Smoke rose beyond the rooftops.
Something had reached the surface.
Captain Veller recovered first.
“We’re wasting time.” He looked toward his remaining soldiers.
“Evacuate the civilians.” Several guild members stared at him in surprise.
The captain rarely placed ordinary villagers above a mission.
Today was different.
He had seen enough to understand that the threat beneath Blackstone was unlike anything recorded in the Guild’s archives.
One of the younger handlers saluted immediately.
“What about the Ashfords?” Veller’s eyes shifted toward Drake.
“They come with us.” Gareth laughed softly.
“No.” The single word carried surprising weight.
Captain Veller looked back.
“This is no longer your decision.” “It never was.” The old blacksmith slowly pushed himself upright.
His legs trembled.
Drake instinctively stepped forward to support him.
Gareth gently shook his head.
“Not yet.” Drake hesitated.
His grandfather smiled.
“There will be many times in your life when you must carry others.” “But let this old man stand on his own feet while he still can.” Drake reluctantly stepped back.
A painful lump formed in his throat.
He understood.
This wasn’t merely about standing.
It was about dignity.
Gareth turned toward the old furnace.
The blue fire within it burned brighter than ever.
“You’ve always wondered why I insisted you repair this furnace every winter.” Drake nodded slowly.
“I thought you were stubborn.” “I was.” A faint chuckle escaped Gareth.
“But not for the reason you believed.” He reached into the flames.
Several guild soldiers gasped.
Instead of burning…
The fire wrapped around his arm like flowing silk.
When Gareth withdrew his hand, he held something long and wrapped in faded cloth.
Drake had never seen it before.
The bundle measured nearly six feet in length.
It was too narrow to be a hammer.
Too heavy to be a sword.
Gareth carefully removed the cloth.
Everyone stared.
It was an enormous blacksmith’s hammer.
Far larger than the one Drake carried.
Its head was forged from dark silver metal covered in golden runes.
The handle appeared to be carved from crimson crystal rather than wood.
Unlike the Origin Hammer, this weapon bore countless scratches and dents.
It had seen battle.
Many battles.
Vulcan bowed his head.
“Forge Hammer…” “…Dawnbreaker.” Captain Veller inhaled sharply.
“The legends…” “They were true.” Drake looked between the hammer and his grandfather.
“You had another Forge Hammer?” Gareth nodded.
“Every Forge Warden carried one.” “Why didn’t you use it before?” “Because once awakened…” “…its owner can never hide again.” He rested Dawnbreaker against the anvil.
The blue flames immediately surged toward it.
The hammer answered with golden light.
For a brief moment…
The Origin Hammer in Drake’s hand vibrated.
The two weapons recognized one another.
Like old friends meeting after centuries apart.
Ember chirped curiously.
The hatchling jumped onto the anvil and cautiously sniffed the larger hammer.
A warm feeling passed through Drake’s bond.
Respect.
The tiny dragon respected the weapon.
Gareth smiled.
“It likes you.” Ember puffed out its chest proudly.
“It should.” Drake blinked.
“You can understand what Ember is feeling?” Gareth looked surprised.
“Of course.” “I’ve lived beside forged beasts for most of my life.” “You thought your bond was unique?” Drake opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
There were so many questions.
Every answer only revealed ten more mysteries.
Outside, another deafening roar echoed through the village.
This one much closer.
The workshop windows shattered.
A violent gust of wind rushed inside.
Granite immediately moved in front of Gareth.
The stone ape’s massive body shielded the old man from falling debris.
Captain Veller looked toward the broken doorway.
“We’re out of time.” As if answering him…
A terrified villager burst inside.
It was Old Mason, the baker who lived across the village square.
His apron was stained with flour and blood.
He nearly collapsed as he stumbled through the doorway.
“Help!” He looked around wildly.
“Please!” Captain Veller caught him before he fell.
“What happened?” “The…
the forest…” Old Mason struggled to breathe.
“It’s walking.” Silence filled the workshop.
“What?” “The trees…” “They’re moving.” Drake frowned.
“Trees?” The baker nodded frantically.
“They have eyes!” “And mouths!” “They’re pulling people into the woods!” Vulcan immediately stepped toward the door.
“Rootspawn.” Captain Veller looked at him.
“You know them?” “They served the First Failure.” Drake felt his stomach tighten.
“Served?” Vulcan nodded once.
“The First Failure evolved beyond simple predation.” “It creates.” The word echoed uncomfortably.
Drake looked toward Ember.
“A Beast Blacksmith creates.” Vulcan’s blue eyes dimmed.
“The First Failure imitates.” “It cannot truly forge life.” “It corrupts existing life.” “Everything it touches…” “…becomes part of its kingdom.” Old Mason grabbed Drake’s arm.
“My granddaughter…” “She’s still outside.” Drake looked toward Gareth.
The old blacksmith slowly nodded.
“Go.” “What about you?” “I’ll prepare the road.” “The hidden road?” “Yes.” Drake hesitated.
“If I leave now…” Gareth interrupted gently.
“If you don’t…” “…more people die.” The words struck home.
Drake looked toward Ember.
The little dragon met his eyes.
Together.
Drake smiled faintly.
“Together.” He turned toward Captain Veller.
“I’m going into the village.” The captain stared.
“You’re insane.” “Maybe.” “But those people protected my family long before any guild arrived.” Captain Veller remained silent for several seconds.
Finally…
He sighed.
“I’ll come.” Drake blinked.
“What?” “The Guild protects civilians.” Veller looked away awkwardly.
“I may not agree with your methods…” “…but abandoning innocents isn’t one of ours.” Drake studied him carefully.
Perhaps Gareth had been right.
Not everyone inside the Guild was evil.
Some simply followed the wrong people.
Granite rose.
The stone ape beat one fist against its chest.
The two-headed wolf stood beside it.
The crystal bird spread its wings.
Even the transparent lizard whose handler had treated it kindly approached quietly.
Captain Veller stared.
“They’re following you.” Drake looked at the beasts.
No commands.
No contracts.
No collars.
Only choice.
Vulcan finally spoke.
“The beginning.” Drake frowned.
“The beginning of what?” “The first Beast Legion.” Captain Veller’s eyes widened.
“The stories…” Vulcan nodded.
“Every Beast Legion began exactly like this.” “One Beast Blacksmith.” “One companion.” “Many willing hearts.” Ember proudly climbed back onto Drake’s shoulder.
The little dragon looked over the gathered beasts as if trying very hard to appear important.
Drake chuckled.
“You look like a king.” Ember chirped confidently.
Granite rumbled in amusement.
Even the two-headed wolf wagged one tail.
For a brief moment…
Despite the burning village…
Despite the monster beneath the mountain…
Despite the uncertain future…
Hope returned.
Then the scream came.
Not from the forest.
Not from beneath the mountain.
From directly above them.
Everyone looked upward.
The workshop roof exploded inward.
Massive roots crashed through the ceiling like living serpents.
Each root was covered in bark resembling dark flesh.
Golden eyes opened along their length.
Hundreds of them.
They all blinked together.
Then every mouth carved into the bark smiled.
A voice echoed through every root simultaneously.
Warm.
Gentle.
Almost comforting.
“Little Creator…” Drake froze.
The roots weren’t speaking aloud.
The words echoed directly inside his mind.
“I have waited…” “…so very long…” One enormous eye opened in the center of the ceiling.
It stared directly at Drake.
Then at Ember.
The voice laughed softly.
“You smell…” “…like Father.” The workshop trembled violently.
Vulcan stepped in front of Drake.
His colossal hammer rose.
For the first time since awakening…
The ancient guardian’s voice carried unmistakable urgency.
“Forge Master…” “Run.” To be continued…