After a long walk through the woods, they come to a small clearing. Sherly points at a bedroll and a campfire set up and says, "Camp. I will take first watch." The sword mage smiles at her, pulls a stone out of thin air, sings, then throws the stone at the camp.
Suddenly a cottage builds itself right where her camp was. He smiles and walks in. Inside it's a cozy cottage: a kitchen with a cold room stocked with food, a wood stove, counter space with cabinets full of dishes and spices, and a sink with both hot and cold running water.
There is a living room with a couch and chairs, two bedrooms with beds, and a bathroom with a flushing toilet, a sink with hot and cold water, and a waist-high bathtub with hot and cold running water. As Sherly walks in and sees all of this, she is filled with wonder. "How is this possible?" she asks.
The sword mage responds, "It's magic," and laughs. "Your bedroll and other things are in the room on the right. And you might want to take a bath while I make us something to eat." Sherly takes the cue, goes to the bathroom, strips, and sinks into the hot water to clean and relax.
After an hour she grabs a towel and steps out, finding a plate of steaks and potatoes on the counter. In a moment of vulnerability, she drops her towel as she rushes to retrieve her food, the ease of the moment emphasizing how comfortable the space feels. The sword mage watches and jokes, "You sure don't seem to have any issues running around naked," which lightens the mood.
Sherly laughs. "It's only us, and from the sound of it, I have been carrying you around for three years," she says, hinting at their shared history and growing bond. The sword mage laughs in return and, with a quieter tone, explains that he was once deaf and mute, cursed to a blade, which kept him from witnessing the world as he does now.
He mentions he has already eaten and plans to take a bath, adding that he hopes she will be dressed when he returns. He goes to the bathroom and notices her clothes and armor on the floor. Using a singing spell, he cleans, mends, and neatly arranges her belongings on her bed, showing care through small, magical acts.
Afterward he sings again; his clothes dissolve and he prepare a bath by draining and refilling the tub with fresh water. He relaxes in the hot bath, lost in thought. His mind drifts to a past love, a sapphire dragon named Annabell—bold and beautiful—who was killed while he was guarding a prince.
Upon returning home he performed her burial rites and took her core, a powerful artifact, and picked up her sword, crafted for him but cursed with her father's core. That cursed sword and the dragon core became a source of solace and sanity for him, binding him to memories of love, loss, and sacrifice. The melding of the dragon core with his being shaped his present and future actions and kept him alive.
He takes stock of his body and realizes he is in his late twenties: still muscular and flexible, though taller and more defined than he remembers. He even feels he could cover himself in scales like armor, yet he cannot remember his name. He can recall his training, his master, and his friends, and the song spells flow easily—everything but his name.
After the bath he sings and clothes wrap around him. He walks to the living area, tells Sherly what he remembers, and asks if she would be willing to guide him for a while. Sherly laughs and says, "It has been months since I enjoyed a bath and food like at an inn. I would love to travel with you forever if it meant I could always enjoy a warm night's sleep and a bed."
The sword mage cleans up, goes to his room, shuts the door, and goes to bed. Sherly sits and thinks of all she has learned about him, feeling sad for his losses and intrigued by the way he is both peaceful and powerful. His binding with a dragon core could mean he is a dragon hybrid—an idea that excites her; she can't wait to cross blades and test herself against him.
The next morning the sword mage makes eggs and bacon for breakfast. Sherly walks out, smells the food, and asks, "What's cooking?" He hands her a plate and they eat in companionable silence; she notices he is quiet. When he finishes, he says, "Get your stuff and we will head out."
Sherly packs her things and heads outside. The sword mage sings and the cottage condenses into a single stone that flies back to his hand. Over the next three days this becomes their routine: comfortable, safe nights as they travel toward the dwarven mine and town.
As they travel, he tells her stories of his adventures and how he made friends among every race. He explains that no one group is wholly evil—only some misguided folk who believe their way is the only way and try to force it on others. After listening, Sherly tells him, "There is a horde of evil beings now and no one knows how to stop them. They are like shadows that whisper evil into people's ears and minds. Some even say they possess people."
The sword mage looks up and says, "So they never were truly vanquished. The shadows were stopped by a mass song before I was a sword mage. We were taught the Songs of Truth to stop them—if we ever came across someone who was possessed, we were to sing it away. Most of us thought they were a myth. I am the only sword mage. This is not good."
As they passed through the woods and came to the base of a mountain, they could see the dwarven town.