Beneath The Fallen Sky

"Sorry boy, I agree with Caden on this one…

…but not entirely."

I looked up at Vorn. What did he mean by that? 

"It's too dangerous for you now. But if you come back strong enough to wield even a fraction of its power without it killing you? It's yours. To make it fair for you, I'll hold onto it without selling it to anyone else. "

He had a huge smile on his face. His usual playful expression came back. I was worried that I'd never get the strength the be able to carry that sword. What if it took me my whole life? The old man would have lost the opportunity to sell such a beautiful sword.

"Are you sure? What if you never end up selling the sword to me?"

He laughed out and had a grin on his face.

"Have at least a little confidence in yourself, boy. I would much rather wait a long time to hand that one off. If possible, I'd rather never sell it. It's far too dangerous to give it to people who aren't capable of properly using it. It'll only bring death. You showed signs of being able to wield it someday. He bet on you, and now—I'm doing the same. I've taken a liking to you after all."

For the first time in my life, someone believed in me. Not out of pity, not because they thought I was weak, but because they saw something in me that was worth betting on. Vorn's challenge made my heart race with determination. I had no idea how long it would take, but I swore to myself right then that I would come back to claim that sword. Not for anyone else. just for me

I knew I had to work hard to use such an ominous sword. What about it made me so drawn to it? I didn't completely understand what I was feeling. It certainly wasn't a righteous sword. If anything, I wouldn't be surprised if a demon was in it. My goal is to rid this world of the catastrophes, yet I want to potentially wield one as a weapon? I really put some thought behind it while the others chatted small talk, but I couldn't find my reasoning. It was just an instinctive feeling, a sort of greed.

Since I came here for a sword and armour, I needed to leave with just that. Vorn was kind enough to show another sword of his that he was hiding in the back. I could tell it wasn't anything near the relics he showed me, but it still looked super strong.

"This one is made of adamentite, a strong, magic reinforced, blade that is super resilient. It's a durable material that won't rust and certainly won't break easily, so it'll last you a while if you take proper care of it."

I gripped the hilt, testing the balance. It wasn't the midnight sword, but it felt solid—dependable. A weapon I could trust. Light, sharp, and sturdy. It would have to do.

With a final count of my remaining three gold coins, I secured the last pieces of my gear. A simple cloak, iron forearm guards, and a light plate to shield my torso. Practical. Nothing special, but enough. I wasn't the fastest, nor the strongest, so I needed to find a balance. Too much armor, and I'd be a walking target. Too little, and I'd be dead in a single mistake. This setup—light but protective—felt right.

For the first time in months, I felt less like a desperate scavenger and more like—someone prepared. Not quite an adventurer. Not yet. But closer

I was still just a miner…

As we finished our business with Vorn, the rest of the party picked out their own gear. I wasn't the only one upgrading. 

Caden ran his fingers along the shaft of his new lance, testing its balance. He gave it a light spin before stabbing it into the floorboards with a satisfied grin. 

"Solid. This should hold up better than the last one." 

He looked like the kind of person who carried his burdens silently, but every little victory, like finding a better weapon, seemed to lift a part of that weight.

Finnian quietly inspected his new steel-tipped arrows, rolling one between his fingers. His expression was unreadable, but the way he held them—carefully, like something precious—told me he was pleased. 

He hesitated for a moment before muttering:

"These… should be useful." 

Then he quickly looked away, tucking the arrows into his quiver. He also got himself new black leather boots. His last pair seemed all worn out, so I guess it was a well needed upgrade. 

Elyndor, meanwhile, slipped a silver-gold ring onto her finger, admiring the blue gem embedded in it. 

"Amplified healing and faster mana regeneration… This will be a lifesaver." 

She adjusted it slightly before picking up a skirt woven with protective magic. A small smile tugged at her lips. 

"This one has a dispel function. Could be useful if any of you get poisoned. Again, that is." 

The party had a displeased expression on their face, as if recalling a certain bad memory.

This shop made me realize how little of this world I know. I thought cramming all the info books accessible to me with my good memory would've been enough, but clearly not. I can't even recognize half of the materials Vorn is pointing out. I've still got much to learn, and I want to experience it first hand. 

I turned back to the midnight sword. The forge's light flickered over its dark steel, shadows shifting across its surface like something alive. My fingers twitched—an instinct, a craving. The weight of its presence pressed against my chest. It was waiting. And so was I.

"Not yet,"I told myself. 

"But soon."

I adjusted my new sword at my hip, still feeling the absence of the midnight blade's weight. The adamantite felt light, sharp—strong, but ordinary. That was fine. It would have to be enough for now.

Pulling my new cloak over my shoulders, I felt the fabric settle lightly against my back. It wasn't much use against physical attacks, but at least it offered some magic resistance. Not that I planned on getting hit in the first place.

With a final glance around, I exhaled. We were finally ready to set out.

A large, long, oval shaped carriage pulled by two brown horses awaited us outside. I could tell it was the same carriage they rescued me in cause of the different coloured wooden board on the right side. 

"Oh, that's right! I can't believe I forgot to introduce you to our two other party members."

I was confused. Who was Caden talking about? 

"The horse on the left is Sebas. He's really hard working when he sets his mind to it. Elyndor and Finn came up with his name. The one on the right is Sir Hoofington. 

I could tell Caden was the one who named this one…

He's quite lazy and stubborn, often forgetting the commands we give him, but he's a great horse. Especially if you bribe him with food!"

The moment Caden mentioned food, Sir Hoofington's ears perked up like he had just heard the gods themselves whisper a prophecy. His lazy, half-lidded eyes suddenly gleamed with purpose, and before anyone could blink, he was standing at full attention, tail swishing with anticipation.

He took a step forward, then another, nostrils flaring as if sniffing out the feast that surely awaited him. When no food immediately appeared, he let out a loud, dramatic huff—clearly offended. Then, as if making his stance on the matter clear, he nudged Caden's shoulder with his nose, harder than necessary, nearly knocking him over.

Sebas, ever the disciplined worker, flicked an ear in disapproval, then pointedly turned his head away—as if refusing to acknowledge such disgraceful behavior. Sir Hoofington, oblivious, was still sniffing around Caden's pockets for a nonexistent treat.