The Road of Ash and Iron wound deeper into the mountains, twisting through chasms that seemed carved by fire itself. The air shimmered with heat, carrying the whispers of the Forge like a distant chant. Kael walked beside Seryth, the dagger glowing faintly in his hand, a reminder that every step now held weight.
"Why do I feel like the Collectors aren't the only threat?" Kael asked, glancing at the shadows that clung to the cliffs.
Seryth's eyes, milky-white and unreadable, scanned the horizon. "The Forge attracts many who would claim its power. Not all will attack you openly. Some will watch. Some will follow. And some may even pretend to help."
Kael swallowed. "How can I trust anyone?"
"Trust," Seryth said, "is forged just like steel — slowly, deliberately, with heat and pressure. You will learn."
A sudden rustle broke the tension. From the shadows of a rock outcropping, a figure emerged: a young woman with dark, braided hair, eyes sharp and curious. She carried a curved blade strapped across her back and a satchel filled with small mechanical devices.
"Who goes there?" Kael called, holding the dagger ready.
The woman raised her hands in a gesture of peace. "I'm Rilith. I mean no harm. I've been tracking the same Collectors that chased you."
Seryth studied her for a long moment. "Why should we trust you?"
Rilith smiled faintly. "Because if I don't help you, the Forge will die before we even reach it. And if it dies, none of us survive."
Kael hesitated but something in her eyes — determination, knowledge, and a hint of fear — made him lower his dagger. Seryth nodded slowly.
"Very well," she said. "You may accompany us. But know this: the Road of Ash will test more than strength. It will test loyalty, heart, and conviction. Allies are as dangerous as enemies if your intent is unsteady."
The trio moved on. As they traversed a narrow ledge above a river of molten silver, Kael felt the whispers of the Forge pulse stronger than ever. It seemed to recognize Rilith, accepting her presence, but he sensed subtle tension between her and Seryth. Questions of loyalty, hidden motives, and hidden agendas floated in the air like sparks.
That night, they camped in a natural alcove, sheltered from the molten winds. Rilith demonstrated one of her mechanical devices — a small, spinning contraption that could capture and redirect heat and light. "The Forge is reactive," she explained. "It responds to energy, to thought. You need more than instinct. You need strategy."
Kael nodded. The dagger in his hand pulsed softly, as though agreeing. He realized that the Forge wasn't just about power; it was about perception, intelligence, and connection.
As he drifted to sleep that night, he thought of the shards of the first Collectors, the glowing dagger, and the road ahead. The whispers of the Forge came again, gentle but insistent:
—Shape not alone. Trust, strike, endure. The path is longer than fire, and deeper than shadow.—
Kael clutched the dagger. For the first time, he felt that he wasn't just being guided. He was beginning to understand the rules of the Forge.