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The day at the forge began early. Orders waited their turn, while the sun was only just beginning to rise above the horizon. Its rays followed soon after, spilling through the windows and illuminating the room. Before long, the lamp was no longer needed, for the forge had filled with sunlight.
Arcy loved these early morning moments. The moments when little sunbeams danced across the walls of his workshop. Sometimes, he would even find himself distracted from his work, if only to watch them for a while.
Today, he was working on a special order. He had been asked to repair the Queen's sword. The blacksmith handled the task with particular care and attention. Every strike of his hammer rang dully against the anvil, the sound echoing throughout the entire forge.
Minutes blurred into hours, and lunchtime was drawing near. The sword was repaired, and perhaps even better than it had been before. Arcy had decided to add a couple of small, simple details of his own. Standing in the middle of his workspace, he decided to test the weapon for a moment. He was rather clumsy with it, but at least he was trying. The sword felt surprisingly light in his hands, and that was what mattered most.
The sound of bells above the door caught the young man's attention. He looked up in surprise.
A beautiful, dark-skinned woman had come to see him. The curls of her hair shimmered beneath the sunlight, gleaming like obsidian. And her face looked almost too beautiful beneath the warm light that now filled the forge.
His heart suddenly gave a painful throb.
Arcy frowned slightly, deciding that the heat of the forge must have been getting to him. But the moment his eyes met hers, he realized that wasn't the reason at all.
Blinking a few times, he heard her question and answered as he handed the sword back to her.
She was the Queen—the very Queen whose kingdom he served through his craft. He had worked as a blacksmith for them for quite some time. It was simply the first time she had ever come to visit him herself, in person. Perhaps there was some explanation for it, but the dark-haired man decided not to ask.
Some time later, Arcy found himself at a training ground on a day when he should have been working. But he had no orders waiting for him, and so he was here instead.
As it happened, on the very day they had met, the woman had offered to train him. Perhaps she had noticed his rather clumsy movements with a sword.
Of course she had noticed.
And the blacksmith had accepted her offer with barely concealed delight.
On the first day of training, Caena assessed the skills and experience he already had. Only after that did she put together a plan for what he needed to improve.
And so the days went by. Sometimes, in the evenings, they would meet in that same place and train together. After a while, they both began staying for an extra hour once their lessons were over. They spent that time together, talking.
Arcy loved hearing about what was happening in Caena's kingdom, while Caena was interested in hearing how things were going at the forge.
From what he heard, everything in Stormfire was rather strict. He also began to understand why they rarely crossed paths. The woman was incredibly busy, yet she still managed to find a couple of hours for their practice together.
That meant more to him than he could put into words.
At some point, he noticed something unusual in the woman's eyes.
It wasn't the same look as before.
It was different.
After a few more training sessions, the blacksmith finally understood what that look had meant. And from that moment on, a new chapter of their relationship began.
Now, the hour after their sparring sessions had become something special. Something warm and pleasant. Those little breaks became some of Arcy's fondest and brightest memories.
Like sunbeams dancing across the walls.
After that first meeting at the forge, he began to think of Caena as the sun. It was that very day that she had made him feel an unfamiliar warmth in his chest—a warmth that she continued to inspire in him even now.
For their next meeting, the dark-haired man decided to surprise her.
He forged a golden hairpin with a small sun at its base, surrounded by numerous curved rays. Arcy had made it especially for Caena—as a reminder of the warmth she had made him feel on the day they first met.
Years passed, but their meetings never stopped. On the contrary, they became an inseparable part of their lives.
And they began spending time together not only during their training sessions, but afterward as well.
One evening, the two of them were lying in the grass beneath the darkening sky, watching the stars above. And that was when Arcy finally gathered the courage to take a great step forward.
He proposed to Caena.
She said yes.
It was in that very moment that he learned that dragons, apparently, could chirp just like cats.
A long while later, they had a daughter.
Mai.
She was beautiful.
Arcy compared her to a little ray of sunlight. Just as warm, bright, and utterly necessary.
Caena tried to spend as much time with them as she could, though it was difficult with the responsibility of an entire kingdom resting on her shoulders. But Arcy understood her. So he took care of their daughter himself.
One day, when Mai was old enough, the three of them took a walk through the kingdom. Caena showed them some of her favorite places. One of them was a tower. It was quiet there, and incredibly beautiful.
That night, they all fell asleep together. Caena hummed a lullaby to the little girl, while Arcy lay on his side, simply taking in the sight before him.
He was happy.
He had two beautiful reasons to live.
His sun and his little ray of light.
Of course, the young man never abandoned his work, so the next day he had to return to the forge. Nothing out of the ordinary—just a couple of sets of armor and a few swords that needed repairing. He would have everything finished within a few days, surely.
The forge smelled of heated metal and the coal burning in the furnace. The familiar ring of his hammer against the anvil echoed through the room. Nearby stood a basin of water, which had grown warm after being used for so long.
The hours dragged on toward evening, and soon darkness settled over the forge. Arcy had no choice but to turn on the lamp.
Once he finished this last set of armor, he would go home, back to the light that was waiting for him.
One final strike of the hammer rang through the forge.
Then came the bubbling sound of water.
After setting the finished armor aside, he wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. It was hot in here, though he was used to it by now.
Taking off his leather apron and hanging it on the wall, Arcy headed over to wash his hands and wipe the last traces of dirt from his face. Then he made his way toward the exit, remembering to turn off the lamp behind him.
He would return here tomorrow.
But tonight, he would spend time with his family.
The next day, the young man returned to the forge once again, working on another order.
And the day after that, too.
Only after a couple more days was he finally free again, able to spend time with his little ray of light and his sun.
This time, they walked through the market. It was noisy, but Mai seemed to enjoy it, so they stayed a little longer.
Afterward, their walk continued along the shore of a lake. The forest landscape was reflected across the blue surface of the water, while somewhere in the distance, a bird sang.
It was beginning to grow dark, so they returned to the castle.
This time, Arcy was the one to put their daughter to bed, while Caena watched with a smile. The young man tried his best to quietly sing her a lullaby.
Once the girl had fallen asleep, he sank into the embrace of his sun.
Arcy was far too tired to stay awake for long, and soon he drifted off to sleep.
He dreamed of Caena running through a field with Mai. The two of them were laughing and playing, while Arcy simply watched them.
And then, before long, he decided to join them.
One evening, the three of them were walking through the fields when Mai begged them to stay a little longer and watch the stars.
Of course, they couldn't refuse her.
And so, the three of them now lay in the grass, gazing up at the bright points scattered across the dark sea of the sky.
The little girl pointed at something with her finger, excitedly telling them all about it. Arcy listened to her, while Caena encouraged her and occasionally corrected something she said.
A few minutes later, Mai had apparently fallen asleep, because Arcy could no longer hear her voice.
He felt himself beginning to drift off as well.
But then Caena's voice woke him.
She was calling him by a softer, more affectionate version of his name.
Reluctantly, he opened his golden eyes.
In the faint darkness of the evening, he saw two bright silver eyes staring down at him.
And once again, warmth spread through his chest.
Caena was saying something to him, but he couldn't hear her.
He had to ask her to repeat herself.
This time, however, he heard the words clearly.
"You're late."
Late?
Why was he late?
How could he possibly be late?
The warmth in his chest was replaced by a faint sense of fear, and confusion settled across the blacksmith's face.
He tried to ask her why.
But Caena seemed unable to hear him.
He reached out to touch her.
But she disappeared.
She vanished at the very moment the tips of his calloused fingers brushed against her hair.
Blinking a few times, he realizes that no one is beside him anymore.
But he remembers it so clearly. He had been lying there with them.
This must be nothing more than a nightmare.
Then, all at once, everything around him falls silent.
He can no longer hear the owl in the tree.
He can no longer hear the crickets in the grass.
A deathly silence.
He blinks again.
And this time, he realizes that he is somewhere unfamiliar.
Bookshelves surround him, stretching into the darkness. The only light comes from tiny white specks drifting through the air, resembling fireflies.
But they aren't fireflies.
His gaze falls to the book he is holding.
His eyes begin to burn, and the words on the pages slowly blur before him.
A tear slips down his cheek and falls onto the open book.
Looking closer, he notices that the drop has landed on the name "Caena."
The ink begins to bleed.
And before long, the word is no longer recognizable.
Only meaningless fragments remain.
His legs give way, and he sinks to the floor, leaning against the bookshelf behind him.
The open book lies beside him.
He pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them.
This is all just a figment of his imagination.
It's nothing more than a book he has just read...
He can still hear her chirping.
The sound echoes somewhere inside his mind, making the ache in his chest grow heavier.
And then come those same few words.
"You're late."
The phrase rolls through his mind like thunder, echoing again and again.
Perhaps it is even echoing throughout this entire place.
No...
This can't be just a dream.
It can't be nothing more than his imagination.
He felt everything. Why can't he go back to that time...?
A few more tears slip down his face, and the young man buries his face in his knees...
Even if we won’t see each other for a while…
Or even forever, I’ll always read our first chapters to the very end.