Zegli's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Zegli held the crude iron band up to the forge light and frowned. The metal was uneven, the edges rough as broken stone. He'd been apprenticing in metalwork for three months now, but his hands still fumbled with the hammer. Every ring he made looked like twisted scrap. Still, he kept working. Somewhere in the Hidden Realm, Mirala crafted jewels that made nobles weep. She'd never notice a blacksmith's son who couldn't even forge a simple band. But legends had to start somewhere. His master had left him alone today with the new forge. The Celestial Midnight Cosmic Skyforge shimmered with colors that shifted like stars across a night sky. Zegli had never seen anything like it. The flames inside danced with purple and blue light. He placed another iron band into the heat and watched the metal glow. His hands shook as he pulled it out and set it on the anvil. The hammer felt heavy in his grip. He brought it down once, twice, three times. This ring would be better than the last. It had to be. One day, Mirala would hold his work in her hands and see what he could create. One day, she would know his name. A rattle of wheels on stone made him look up. A Dark Fae Sylvan Cart rolled past, loaded with raw gemstones from the quarries. The velvet lining cradled chunks of amber and jade. Zegli set down his hammer and stepped closer. Those stones would become something beautiful in skilled hands. His chest tightened. He returned to the anvil and picked up the ring he'd just hammered. Still crooked. Still wrong. But he dropped it into a bucket with the others and reached for fresh metal. The cosmic flames of the forge reflected in his eyes. He had time. He had determination. And he had a name to prove worthy of speaking aloud. The sun dropped lower as he worked through the afternoon. His master returned at dusk and examined the bucket of failed rings. The old fae said nothing, just pointed toward a building across the square. The Dark Fae Runic Bog Forge stood wrapped in mist, its walls marked with glowing symbols. That was where the real work happened. That was where masters crafted weapons and jewelry that lasted forever. Zegli wiped sweat from his face and looked at the strange building. One day he would work at a forge like that. One day he would make a ring so perfect that Mirala would have to see him. He picked up his hammer again. The bucket could hold more failures. He had all night.