The forge rang with the steady rhythm of hammer on steel. Sparks flew like fireflies, the scent of molten iron thick in the air.
Arlo and Tessa stopped at the doorway, both standing straighter, chests puffed out—because if you were a freshly-minted Dragon Slayer, you didn't walk into places. You made an entrance.
"Ah, there he is," Tessa said, smoothing her cloak. "The blacksmith. Reliable, hardworking, and most importantly—"
"The guy whose rash you cured!" Arlo blurted, grinning ear to ear.
Tessa's face turned scarlet. "I told you not to bring that up!"
The blacksmith, a massive man with arms like tree trunks, paused mid-swing. He turned, squinting at them. Recognition dawned, and a wide smile spread across his bearded face.
"Well, I'll be damned!" he boomed, dropping his hammer with a clang. "If it ain't my favorite healers! Saved my life, you did!"
He strode toward them, and before Arlo could react, the mountain of a man swept him up into a bone-crushing hug.
Arlo's eyes bulged. "C-can't... breathe—"
The blacksmith laughed, spinning him around. "Just like last time!"
And then it hit him. That memory. That very specific memory.
The blacksmith leaned back, tears of laughter in his eyes. "You remember, don't you? When you hugged me so tight during the treatment—ahhh, your face, lad! You turned pale as a ghost when you realized... well... it was poking your stomach."
Arlo's jaw dropped. "YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO SAY IT OUT LOUD!"
The blacksmith slapped his knee, roaring with laughter. "By the gods, I nearly died of embarrassment—but you! You looked like you'd seen a banshee!"
Tessa covered her reddened face with both hands. "Please, just... Spare me this conversation."
The blacksmith finally set Arlo down, wiping tears from his eyes. "Ah, don't fret, lad. You've no competition." He gave Arlo a cheeky grin. "I don't fancy the ladies, you see. Too sharp around the eyes. A fine man's shoulders—that's where my heart lies."
Arlo froze. "...Wait. You're... gay!?"
"Proudly!" the blacksmith declared, flexing his enormous arms. "Big, strong, and soft for the right lad. What, you thought all muscles and beard meant I was chasing skirts?"
Arlo stammered. "I—I just—no! I mean, hey, you do you, buddy, I'm not judging!"
Tessa peeked through her fingers, her face still crimson. "This entire visit was a mistake..."
"So, what brings you here?"The blacksmith finally calmed down, "Don't tell me this lad, missed me so much that he wanted to visit." The blacksmith said skittishly.
Arlo dug the necklace out from under his shirt and placed it on the table. "No! Actually, I picked this up in the dragon's hoard. Heard you had some appraisal skills. Thought you could tell us more about this."
The blacksmith raised a brow, his expression turning serious. He held the necklace carefully, closing his eyes. His calloused fingers traced its edges as he murmured faint incantations under his breath. A faint glow shimmered around it.
After a long silence, he opened his eyes and set it back down.
"Well," he said slowly, "what you've got here is a Lucky Necklace."
Arlo blinked. "...Lucky? That's it? Just... lucky?"
The blacksmith shrugged his massive shoulders. "That's all I can tell. My appraisal skill ain't top-grade. I can't say how far its luck goes. Could be small things—finding coins on the ground, dice rolls always landing in your favor. Or..." He paused dramatically. "It could change the course of battles. Twist fate itself."
Arlo whistled, leaning back. "So basically, it's either pocket change luck... or world-breaking destiny luck. No in-between."
"Exactly," the blacksmith said with a grin. "Mysterious, eh? Sometimes that's half the fun."
Tessa crossed her arms, still trying to recover her composure. "Well, at least it isn't cursed. We'll keep it safe until we know more."
Arlo picked it up again, turning it in his hands. "Lucky necklace, huh? Guess it fits me. Disaster magnet plus luck charm... that's a balanced combo, right?"
"Or a recipe for catastrophe," Tessa muttered.
The blacksmith roared with laughter. "Either way, I like you lot! Come back anytime. And don't forget—" he winked at Arlo, "—next time we hug, I'll make sure to aim higher."
Arlo nearly dropped the necklace. "I'M NEVER COMING BACK."
Tessa grabbed his sleeve and dragged him toward the door, her face burning. "We're leaving. Immediately."
The blacksmith waved cheerfully after them, laughter echoing through the forge.