Chapter 5: Four Years, Beating Steel
Yes. That's right.
It's been four bloody years.
Four years of smoke in my hair, soot under my nails, and iron ringing in my ears until silence started to feel suspicious.
After a week of making swords for Rowanda's men, she built me a small house attached to the armoury. The old passage that used to end in a barred door now ended at my front steps.
A gift.
Or a tighter cage.
Rowanda was rarely in the city. She liked quests. She liked blood. She liked coming back with new scars and calling it entertainment.
Me?
I liked steel.
Or at least, steel was the only thing that didn't lie to me.
That night, I dreamed.
I was riding a white dragon over a castle on fire. I wore matte grey armour and felt heavier—older. I couldn't see my own face behind the helm, but I knew it was me.
"Dinner!" I shouted. "Fly to that man on the black horse with the lance! Don't burn him—catch him and raise him high!"
The dragon obeyed.
Its wings folded. It dropped like an arrow.
Its talons opened—
Cold water slapped my face.
I jerked upright, choking, blinking, furious.
"Bloody hell—what—"
Ashirai stood over me with an empty bucket.
"Ashi." I wiped my face. "What did you do that for?"
"I've been trying to wake you for fifteen minutes," she said calmly. "All you did was mutter about dinner and fire."
"You could've slapped me," I snapped. "It's winter. Do you want me to catch a cold and die out of spite?"
"Stop whining and get dressed. We need to talk."
That tone made my stomach tighten.
I pulled on my breeches and tunic and stumbled downstairs.
My house was a loft. Chestnut wood everywhere—one of the few things I stole from Grogan's book that didn't feel like theft.
I fed the fireplace. Spark. Crackle. Relief.
Then I turned back to Ashirai, rubbing my face.
"So," I said, "what's so important you tried to drown me in a bucket?"
Her eyes flicked to the fire. She looked… worried.
"You'll be leaving soon," she said.
I frowned. "Leaving where?"
"My aunt is taking you to Riverway. Tomorrow. First light."
I blinked.
Then I laughed, because it sounded ridiculous.
"You mean Rowanda is taking me on a vacation."
Ashirai's fists clenched.
"You think I'm joking?"
"Oh no, your highness," I said, still annoyed about the water. "I just think you haven't slept in days."
"Stop mocking me, Leno." Her voice trembled, but she forced it steady. "My father took my aunt's men. She failed to bring enough slaves on her last quest. She's been losing money. That's why she's been fighting in the arena."
"I know all that," I said, pouring hot water into the bath like I wasn't suddenly listening with my whole body. "But I missed the part where she drags me to Riverway."
"She's going to fight in the pits," Ashirai said. "She can't take more than three people."
My heart sank a little.
"She's taking Obara…"
I snorted. "The thief who keeps stealing my Riverfold knife? The one who doesn't realize it always ends up back in my boot?"
Ashirai glared. "Don't interrupt."
"Sorry," I said, not sorry at all.
"She's taking Stan. Her right-hand man." Ashirai swallowed. "And you."
I went still. "Me?"
"Yes."
"What for?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
"To forge," she said. "You're her blacksmith."
I let out a sharp breath. "Forge what? She already has the best sword, spear, knife, shield—"
"And you have better," Ashirai cut in. "And she said something about duplicating weapons."
"Duplicating," I repeated, frowning. "That doesn't even make sense."
Ashirai stepped closer.
"I don't want you to go," she said, and her eyes shone like she was trying not to cry.
I stared at her.
"Why?"
"It's dangerous," she whispered. "Riverway is in Benevira, outside Hekhenden. My father's name means nothing there. My aunt's name means nothing there."
She swallowed hard.
"And the King has a dragon in his dungeon."
That last line hit like a hammer.
"A dragon?" I asked quietly.
Ashirai nodded, like saying it out loud made it more real.
I exhaled.
Sometimes she forgot what I was.
"Ashi," I said, softer, "I'm a slave. I can't refuse her."
"You can run," she said quickly. "You have no slave mark. You can hide anywhere. Come to the palace. There are rooms no one ever goes to."
I looked at her for a long moment.
Four years stuck in one frozen city.
One chance to leave its walls, even if it was dangerous.
"I can't deny myself this," I said. "Not now. Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself."
Ashirai's face flushed.
"So that's it?" she snapped. "You're just going to go and get yourself killed in savage lands? You're just going to leave me?"
"I'm not leaving you," I said quickly. "I'll come back. I promise."
Her jaw tightened.
Then she grabbed her cloak from the table and yanked up the carpet under the stairs.
A hidden latch.
A secret door.
She shoved it open and slipped through without looking back.
"Just go," she said, voice sharp with hurt. "And don't bother coming back."
The door shut.
And the room felt colder than winter.