BOOM! CLANK! CLANK!
Amidst the cacophony of explosions and the oppressive heat that permeated the air, the sharp and rhythmic sounds of metal clashing echoed through the volcanic cavern.
The dungeon, filled with the fiery glow of molten lava and the acrid scent of smoke, provided a surreal backdrop to the intense ‘battle’ that unfolded.
In the midst of the ‘chaos,’ a colossal being stood tall, almost reaching three meters in height.
Its massive form, bathed in the crimson glow of the lava, exuded an aura of raw power. Long, twisted horns adorned its head, and a flowing beard of the same fiery tone cascaded down its chest.
Its mustache was curly as if to compliment the beard, the tips being burned from the scorching heat.
The being’s eyes glowed with an otherworldly intensity, reflecting the heat and violence that surrounded it.
CLANK!
With the arm holding the hammer raised and hitting the metal once more, sparks flew into the environment, creating a display of art.
“Hmm?”
Just as the tensed arm with huge muscles was raised once more, suddenly, the figure came to abrupt with a deep hum.
“I sense a presence.”
A deep voice filled with experience and pride echoed in the workshop, voicing the thoughts of the huge figure.
“A thin, but a presence nonetheless.”
BOOM! CLANK!
The rhythmic clashing of metal ceased as the colossal being slowly lowered its hammer, allowing the vibrations in the air to settle. The cavern seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the next words from the enigmatic blacksmith.
The figure turned back, its glowing eyes piercing through the smoky atmosphere. The workshop, bathed in the eerie glow of molten lava, revealed the intricate details of the being’s crimson beard and twisted horns.
“It has been a while since someone has ventured to this secluded place, away from anyone’s watchful eyes. Here I thought, I had hidden my traces well.”
The words resonated in the cavern, spoken in a slightly cryptic tone. The blacksmith’s gaze shifted towards the entrance as if peering into the shadows where the presence had been detected.
“Coming into the place away from the eyes of many…..the land hidden in the heart of the volcano, only stepped by a few….What brings you here, oh the lost soul?”
The shadows at the entrance remained still, and for a moment, the cavern seemed to hold its breath.
“Haaaah…”
Then, with a voice filled with ancient wisdom, the blacksmith continued after sighing tiredly.
“To think this old man here would see such a young’un in this place…..The fate is indeed different. Though, young’un, the fire in your heart is like an open book to my eyes. I see the weight of your footsteps, the whispers of your intentions. You carry a story, one etched in the fabric of your very soul.”
The figure’s words resonated as if the blacksmith could perceive something nobody else could as if its glowing red eyes contained a pearl of different wisdom.
“….It is indeed hard to escape from the eyes of a being like you…”
In the heart of the volcanic cavern, where the molten glow painted the surroundings in shades of red and orange, a sudden movement stirred in the shadows. From the concealed darkness, a presence made itself known—a young man, his purple eyes shining with an intensity that mirrored the glow of the lava.
His silhouette emerged, revealing a demeanor that carried both determination and uncertainty.
The young man stepped forward, acknowledging the ancient blacksmith with a nod. His expressionless face showed as if he expected to be revealed.
“To think a young’un like you were able to come all the way from the entrance, I guess my senses had become dull.”
The figure’s eyes fetched into the very being of the unknown visitor, his senses squinting the strength of the young man.
“Something…I can sense something from you.”
The young man stood there without saying anything as the huge figure looked at him. Even in the presence of such an intimidating figure, he seemed rather relaxed, as if he was sure he was safe.
“I see….”
He grabbed his beard, caressing it as if he finally understood.
“To think I can sense the presence of the eldest one inside…..Now, everything makes sense.”
From the eyes of the figure, the small shadows were fluctuating over the young man, and it was a familiar presence.
However, at that second, as if his interest was diminished, the blacksmith turned back to his forge, dismissing the young man as if his presence was inconsequential.
“It doesn’t matter who you are or who you carry within. I don’t wish to be bothered,” the figure declared in a deep, resonant voice.
CLANK! CLANK!
The rhythmic clanging of metal resumed, signaling the blacksmith’s return to his craft. The young man, now acknowledged and dismissed, was left standing in the flickering glow of the volcanic cavern, pondering the mysteries that surrounded both the ancient blacksmith and the presence within him.
However, the young man remained undeterred, as if he knew this would happen as well. He stepped forward, his voice cutting through the rhythmic clanging of metal.
“How long are you going to run away?” he asked, his face unchanged.
The blacksmith continued working, ignoring the question as if the words were carried away by the billowing smoke of the forge.
CLANK! CLANK!
“Is it how you are trying to redeem yourself? Closing yourself from the outside world?”
Undeterred, the young man continued to approach the workshop. The sparks flying from the workshop continued to rain down, and with each step he had taken, the temperature rose, reaching dangerous levels.
But the blacksmith remained engrossed in his work, the fiery glow of the molten metal reflecting in his impassive eyes.
“Escaping from the responsibilities of the past…Consequences of your actions…..Is it the way of the Great Vorgvir?”
THUD!
However, at that second, with the last words of the young man, the hammer came to an abrupt halt once again.
“….You know me….”
The blacksmith spoke with a tone different than before.
“I do.” The young man answered. “The ancient demon of fire, the Legendary Blacksmith of Netheria.”
The cavern seemed to hold its breath as Vorgvir turned back, his eyes gleaming with a different intensity. The crimson glow of the lava bathed the legendary blacksmith in an ethereal light, emphasizing the lines etched into his weathered face.
“You do know a lot….But don’t you think it is not wise to reveal such things in the presence of an ancient demon you speak of?”
The young man met the blacksmith’s gaze with unwavering determination. “I know the risks, but I also know that you won’t kill me.”
A hint of amusement flickered in Vorgvir’s eyes. “And what makes you so sure?”
The young man took a step forward. “You, the one who saw the destruction his weapons brought upon the world….The one who wished for the cruelty to end….You are not someone to kill the weak….”
Vorgvir’s expression remained inscrutable, but the flames in his eyes seemed to soften. “You speak as if you know my heart.”
“Actions speak louder than words….And one’s past shows one’s own nature. This is what I do believe.” The young man said as he took one last step. Standing in front of the forge. The heat got so hot that the young man could no longer resist as if it was nothing and was sweating from the hotness.
Vorgvir observed the young man in silence, his massive frame towering over the forge. After a moment, he spoke with a gruff yet contemplative tone, “If you know the reason why I am here, why seek my presence for another weapon? A tool for destruction. What makes you think I will make a weapon for thee which will bring the same destiny to the world?”
At his words, the young man stopped for a second, his purple eyes meeting with the blacksmith’s. His eyes were now filled with an intense flame….
The aura oozing from the young man slowly made itself known. It wasn’t strong, wasn’t huge…But it was intense.
As if to display his own feelings, as if to show how intense those feelings were.
“Because, in the behind of the fa?ade of redemption, I know it is nothing but anger and sorrow.
Behind the feelings you have portrayed in the legends, underneath how it was displayed in the murals….
There lies the guilt that is overwhelming you.”
The young man’s words hung in the air, carrying a weight that seemed to cut through the fiery atmosphere of the cavern. Vorgvir’s eyes, still locked onto the young man’s, flickered with a mixture of surprise and deep sadness.
The young man continued, “It is the guilt of wielding a power that took away someone you held dear—the weight of the one lost in the wake of your creations.
And it is the anger towards this cruel world and yourself. The unforgiving feeling of sadness, the memories flooding back every second….
It is not the noble cause of ending the cruelty in this world.”
The young man stopped at that one little world.
“It is the feeling of hatred towards the one who took your loved ones, but not being able to achieve the vengeance you seek…..”
As the young man spoke, Vorgvir’s mind became a canvas painted with memories long buried beneath the layers of time. His stoic exterior cracked, revealing the pain etched into the lines of his weathered face.
In that exact second, the forge’s fiery glow seemed to dim as Vorgvir was transported to the times of the past—the memories he had tried so hard to bury.
He saw the smile of a young boy, his eyes filled with admiration, holding a tiny hammer, trying to mimic the great blacksmith.
Another image flashed—the same boy, now a bit older, sweating profusely as he forged his first piece, determined to earn acknowledgment.
And then, the vivid image of the same kid, face pale and covered in blood, behind him was the being he hated the most. The memories assaulted Vorgvir’s consciousness, each frame a dagger thrust into the recesses of his soul.
The blacksmith’s massive frame trembled slightly as the memories of the past awakened once again.
The emotions he had sealed started flowing down….
But at that exact moment, his experienced eyes met with the young boy before him.
And there he saw something…Something similar….
The fire burning in those eyes, the hatred, the anger….
It was the same…
This young man before him was here because of the same thing.
Before Vorgvir could voice the storm of emotions within him, the young man spoke his voice cold and filled with hatred, “I am not the hero who deserves the holy weapon you aspire to create. I am here not to save the world but to bring destruction to those who took something precious from me.”
“….”
“Thus I seek your abilities one last time…..The abilities of the legendary blacksmith….”
Vorgvir’s gaze remained locked with the young man’s as he absorbed the weight of those words. The cavern seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the blacksmith’s response.
“Very well….”