Page 112 of Fallen Nocturne

“Thank you. For the sword and helping with the brace designs,” he says to Hrolf.

“Thank me by making sure that little wyvern can fly properly.” Hrolf gestures toward Coral, who answers with a sleepy chirp.

The sword is for me. Why is Arescaine thanking him as though the gift means something to him too?

Hrolf collects his leather bag of tools and his water flask. “I’ve got business with the guards outside.”

He pauses at the door, looking back at me. “Your Highness. It was an honor.”

“The honor was mine, Master Hrolf.” I incline my head to him.

He snorts and shakes his head, then disappears through the doorway, his heavy footsteps fading into the sounds of the city.

I’m alone with Arescaine. The forge suddenly feels smaller and intimate. Coral is dozing in her corner, exhausted from her flight attempt. Somewhere outside, a bird sings.

Arescaine has already returned to the wing braces, laying them out on the workbench. He’s examining the device while making notes on a piece of parchment.

I should leave. The beautiful sword in my hands is reason enough. I should practice with it and return to my duties.

Landon may still be away, but the golden string remains warm inside me. It is a constant reminder of the life waiting beyond this forge.

Instead, I find myself walking closer to the workbench, closer to Arescaine.

“What needs to be fixed?” I ask, setting the sword carefully aside.

“The locking mechanism engages too quickly. When she tried to flap, it threw off her balance because the joints couldn’t adjust fast enough.” He sketches a second hinge beside the first. “I need to add some kind of dampener. Something that allows for minor adjustments mid-flight.”

I nod like I understand half of what he just said. “Can I help?”

Now he looks up, surprise clear on his face. “You want to help?”

“If you’ll let me.” I move to stand beside him, close enough that I can see the designs he’s sketching. “I want to understand how it works.”

I feel my face go warm and I look down at the parchment instead of at him. “I want to help her fly.”

Something softens in his expression. “All right. Metalwork is hot and dangerous. One careless movement can cost you a finger.”

I’ve sneaked around Hellios’s volcano once or twice in Astefar.

“I’ll try not to lose any fingers.” I hold his gaze until he looks away first. “I promise I’ll be careful.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Amusement warms his voice.

He gestures me closer to the anvil, where a small piece of metal is heating in the coals. “First lesson, never touch anything without checking if it’s hot first.”

I laugh despite myself. “Noted.”

“Second lesson, listen to instructions.”

“Also noted.”

“Third lesson…” He pulls the glowing metal from the coals and sets it on the anvil. “Metalwork is all about rhythm and patience. Watch.”

Arescaine picks up the hammer and begins to work. I watch the hammer rise and fall, mesmerized despite myself. Nothing about his movements is wasted. The metal slowly changes shape under his hands, bending to his will.

“Now you try,” he says, offering me the hammer.

I take it, surprised by its weight. “Just... hit it?”