Kaelen pushed open the heavy iron doors of the forge chamber, the intense heat washing over him in a sudden wave. The air was thick with the scent of molten metal, smelted ore, and the sharp tang of sweat. Sparks danced and hissed as hammer met anvil, filling the cavernous room with a rhythmic percussion.
Inside, blacksmiths bent over their workstations, the glow of the forges casting flickering shadows over their soot-streaked faces. Their eyes, though mostly focused on their craft, flickered toward the newcomer Kaelen Emberwake with a mix of awe and curiosity, both the young and old. The Reed Sigil clipped to his chest marked him not just as a hunter but as a legend in the making.
At the center of the forge stood Kitar, his imposing frame silhouetted against a roaring forge. His face was an unreadable mask, set with stone-like seriousness. His arms, thick with muscle and streaked with burns, moved with practiced grace as he shaped a glowing blade.
Kitar didn't turn immediately when Kaelen approached, but the air shifted. There was a tension, a weight, that made even the youngest smiths quiet their banter.
"Kaelen," Kitar said finally, voice low and steady. "You're late."
Kaelen smirked. "I prefer to make an entrance."
Kitar's eyes, sharp and gray as hammered steel, flicked to Kaelen and back. "The weapon came out well. Here it is."
From behind Kitar, a heavy cloth was pulled away, revealing a sleek, weapon resting on the stone slab. The weapon was unlike any Kaelen had seen before, in terms of design. A compact crossbow, but with intricate filigree woven from silver threads that shimmered faintly with latent arcane energy. The limbs of the crossbow were crafted from a rare darkwood, known for its flexibility and strength, wrapped in braided dragonhide for grip. Embedded in the center was a small, pulsating crystal, a core that thrummed with faint power, feeding the weapon with energy beyond mere mechanics.
"Meet her," Kitar said, voice gruff, "I designed her to pierce not just flesh, but the arcane veils that shroud the beasts of the realm."
Kaelen's eyes widened. "I've trained with crossbows before," he said slowly, stepping closer. "But never one like this. The crystal... it's like it channels magic?"
"Precisely," Kitar replied. "This weapon is for hunters who face more than just brute force. The beasts beyond the gates are cunning, and their defenses are not always physical. You'll need every advantage."
Kaelen couldn't contain his smile as he examined the crossbow, stars in his eyes. "She is beautiful."
"What will you name her?" Kitar asked.
"Wyrmstrike. I'm naming her Wyrmstrike." Kaelen didn't take his eyes off the weapon. He could already feel a connection with the weapon on the slab.
Before Kaelen could say more, a tall grizzled figure approached him. Rulmar, the lead smith, his broad hands resting on his hips. His face was creased with age and soot, but his eyes held a warm sharpness.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Rulmar said, nodding toward the Wyrmstrike. "Kitar's been perfecting this for weeks. The arcane core is a rare gift from the Elder Mage's guild. Not everyone gets to wield one."
Kaelen nodded. He finally understood why Kitar refused to show the work to him until it was done. It was worth the suspense.
Rulmar continued. "If anyone can wield this, it'd be you."
Kaelen glanced around.
Several smiths caught his gaze and quickly looked away, their respect palpable. One of the younger smiths, Kyle, couldn't hold back a grin.
"Don't worry, Kaelen," Kyle called out loudly enough for all to hear. "If she backfires, we'll just say it's got a fiery temper just like me before dawn."
The room cracked into suppressed chuckles, and even Kaelen couldn't help but break into a laugh. Kitar's lips twitched but quickly returned to their usual stern line.
Kaelen lifted the Wyrmstrike carefully, the weight balanced perfectly. His fingers brushed the trigger mechanism, and a small spark of energy hummed through his palm.
"I've trained with crossbows, yes," Kaelen admitted, "but nothing quite like this. Mostly standard bows or short-range thrown weapons in the training yard."
Rulmar nodded knowingly. "The beasts you'll face, many have scales tough as iron or natural magic shielding them. The arcane bolts can pierce through those defenses. But mastering it takes more than strength. It demands precision and attunement."
Kaelen hefted the weapon again, feeling a strange harmony building between the core's pulse and his own heartbeat. This was more than just a tool, it was his partner.
***
Later, as Kaelen prepared for his first mission, he sat outside his tent, the Wyrmstrike resting beside him.
On getting back from the forge chamber, he had done a solo practice with the newly acquired weapon. It had gone on for hours.
Commander Heshra's words echoed in his mind. 'This isn't just about swinging a blade or throwing fireballs. This is real fieldwork. Real danger.'
Being a hunter was one of the highest honors in the Aetherwrought clan alongside the military , but it came with layers of responsibility and a strict hierarchy. The hunter ranks were marked by the badges they bore, each crafted with unique dragon essences, each a symbol of status and duty.
First-rank hunters, like Kaelen now, were the elite. Easily identified by the red threading in their attire. They were the frontline warriors tasked with protecting the clan's borders and maintaining the balance between the mortal world and the beast realm. Below them were the second and third ranks, each progressing through rigorous trials and battles, hoping one day to earn their own sigils and forge their place among the legends.
Hunters weren't just warriors; they were the clan's eyes and hands beyond the safety of stone walls. Their missions ranged from scouting the dangerous wilds, containing rogue beasts, to delving into the volatile beast world itself, a realm as deadly as it was mysterious.
Kaelen's breath caught when he thought about the gates mentioned, the ancient portals linking their world to the beast realm.
The gates were said to be massive archways wrought from dragonbone and imbued with ancient enchantments. They pulsed with a soft glow, a bridge between realities. The beast realm beyond was wild and untamed, a place where massive, primal creatures roamed. Creatures that served as sustenance for dragons but were far from mere prey.
Beasts were fierce, territorial, and cunning. Their strength nearly rivaled that of the dragons themselves, with the immense numbers contributing to this. The realm was riddled with arcane fluxes and dangers unseen by ordinary eyes. Hunters who ventured beyond the gates needed not only skill but a sharp mind and a steady heart. Atleast that was what Kaelen had been told over the past six days.
The morning of the mission arrived with a gray dawn. Kaelen, Wyrmstrike slung across his back, met the other five hunters assigned to the strike team outside the camp gates.
Baku, the short stocky leader with a scar running down his left cheek, stood at the front, scanning the horizon. Beside him were Lana, a swift blade-wielder, Thorin, a heavy axe specialist, Mira, an elemental mage; and Dalen, a scout known for his keen senses.
"Emberwake," Baku nodded. "You ready?"
Kaelen straightened. "As ready as I'll ever be."
The massive gates loomed before them, their runes glowing faintly with shifting colors. Beyond lay the beast realm, a world unknown and wild.
As the team stepped forward, the air shook, the veil between worlds parting like mist. The familiar scent of draconian life gave way to something alien, raw, alive.
Kaelen's heart pounded in his chest as he crossed the threshold.
The beast realm stretched before them. It was a wild, sprawling forest, trees towering like giants with leaves that shimmered in unnatural hues. Strange creatures scuttled through underbrush, and distant roars echoed like thunder.
The arcane flux was thick here, a palpable energy that made the air buzz against Kaelen's skin. The pulse of his badge quickened, as if warning him of unseen dangers.
The mission was clear, investigate the corrupted signals near the crystal caverns and restore balance before the flux spiraled out of control.
Kaelen adjusted his grip on the Wyrmstrike, feeling its core respond to the ambient magic. The weapon hummed softly, ready to unleash deadly precision.
"Keep your eyes sharp," Baku ordered. "This place doesn't forgive mistakes."
Kaelen nodded, stepping forward into the wild unknown, the first true test of his path as a hunter and a bearer of the Reed Sigil.