Ki-ur Kakkabu

Chapter 41: Mysteries Solved, Secrets Shared

The woman looked at their worn-out appearance suspiciously. "The blacksmith's cottage is up the lane, past the woodshed," she said in a hoarse voice, pointing vaguely in that direction. "But unless it's a matter of life or death, I wouldn't disturb him; take my advice."

With lingering unease, the group continued along the dark lanes, now being more cautious. Shadows at the edges of the torchlight seemed to move like ghosts, wanting to trap more people in darkness.

They kept going, getting closer to each other, finding comfort in their cloaks. Every creaking board or window shutter made their hearts beat faster, half-expecting some unknown horror to appear. More than one person instinctively reached for their weapons, seeking courage against the night.

As they turned the corner of the square, they went onto a narrow path, barely wider than a sheep trail. Willow trees hung their branches low as if trying to protect themselves from any evil beings that might hide in the woods. They lowered their voices to whispers, feeling like speaking too loudly would carry their words too far in this place.

A single ray of torchlight spilt from a rundown cottage up ahead, the only source of warmth and life in the surrounding darkness. Getting closer, they could hear the distinct sound of a hammer hitting iron, like a defiant shout in the face of darkness.

Each strong strike lessened an unnamed fear, reassuring them that not everyone in this empty place had given in to the shadows. However, they hesitated from a safe distance, afraid to startle anyone in this uneasy sleep.

Before a raised hand could knock on the old door, it swung open. An aged man looked out, squinting against the moonlight. "Well now, why have travellers come at this hour?" he asked, noticing their tired faces and sensing their private troubles. Stepping back, he gestured for them to come inside.

"Come in from the cold; there's no need to wake the whole village. Let's see if this blacksmith can help you, tired souls, with... whatever upsetting matter has left you looking as if you've seen a ghost," he said, his wise eyes catching sight of the bundle in Mnesarete's arms.

Taking a step forward as her friends crossed the entrance, Themistonoe expressed gratitude for the blacksmith's kindness. She locked eyes with him. "Kind sir, we have come seeking help with an object from my family's past. It carries a burden of sadness that I want to put to rest."

Carefully untying the bag, she revealed the shiny runes for the blacksmith to see. His eyes narrowed noticeably at the mysterious runes.

"These stones were found among objects from my ancestors' travels," Themistonoe continued softly. "But they evoke memories too painful to remember. I had hoped that your workshop might be able to reshape them and break their influence."

The blacksmith's practised finger traced over the runes, humming thoughtfully. However, he showed caution in his demeanour. "There is unmistakable magic in these carvings, my dear. Ancient, powerful magic that should not trouble the living."

His gaze searched hers intently. "What dark histories do they hold that would distress you so? I've seen strong people unsettled by less significant things." When Themistonoe hesitated, he firmly grasped her shoulder.

"It is best not to speak of what should be forgotten," she solemnly replied. "Let's just say their power lies in remembering sorrowful pasts. Don't seek their meanings, my friend, unless their sadness overwhelms you too."

The blacksmith studied her tired eyes for a moment longer before slowly nodding. "Then we will get rid of these cursed charms right away. No object is worth tormented souls."

Themistonoe raised the protective necklace they had made. "Respected Smith, as a token of our gratitude, please accept this gift."

The blacksmith examined the necklace, his bushy eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "And why would I need this?" he asked wryly.