Day 2

  Daylight streamed through the small window of Kalenor’s room, catching him off guard. He sat up, blinking against the brightness. It was the first time he had seen the sun since arriving in Hallowglen, the constant mist having dulled the days into an endless gray haze. For a moment, the warmth of the light brought a fleeting sense of normalcy.

  After gathering his equipment, Kalenor headed out into the village. The usual routines had begun—the distribution of rations and supplies, the villagers moving cautiously about their duties under the weight of unease. Kalenor ensured each family had what they needed, his presence a silent reassurance.

  As he worked, a man approached him, carrying something large and circular. Kalenor turned to face him, his amber eyes narrowing slightly as he assessed the figure.

  “Who are you?” Kalenor asked, his tone steady but commanding.

  The man stopped a few steps away and dipped his head respectfully. “Scalesworn, I am the village carpenter. I made this for you.”

  The man held out the object, revealing a finely crafted shield. Its surface was smooth and polished, with intricate carvings along the edges that resembled flowing mist. Kalenor took the shield, noting its remarkable lightness.

  “I saw your fight with the Crystalclutch ape,” the carpenter explained. “You fought bravely but lacked something to defend yourself. I thought this might help.”

  Kalenor ran his fingers along the carvings, appreciating the craftsmanship. “This is an incredible gift,” he said, his voice sincere. “Thank you.”

  The carpenter smiled faintly, pleased by the Scalesworn’s approval. “It’s made from Misteveil Alder,” he said, gesturing to the silvery hue of the wood. “The trees grow deep in the forest. Their seeds are what create the mist that blankets the village and surrounding area. When the seeds mature, they release a silver fog that lingers for days.”

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  Kalenor studied the shield closely. Despite its lightness, it felt sturdy, and the faint shimmer of the wood gave it an almost ethereal quality. He strapped it to his back and inclined his head in gratitude. “I will use it well. Your craft is extraordinary.”

  The carpenter nodded humbly and turned back toward his workshop. Kalenor resumed his duties, but as the day wore on, he began to notice something unusual. A faint energy pulsed from the shield, a subtle but steady rhythm that seemed to resonate with his own Essentaria. Curious, he paused to inspect it more closely.

  Running his fingers along the edge, he noticed runes carved into the wood, their shapes intricate and unfamiliar. As he mouthed the runes, one by one, the shield reacted. A mist began to seep from its surface, swirling around it like a living thing. Startled, Kalenor recited the runes again, and the mist gathered, solidifying over the shield and expanding its size. The once lightweight shield now felt impenetrable, its surface reinforced by the hardened fog.

  Kalenor stared at the shield in wonder. “It’s enchanted,” he murmured to himself. The realization made him appreciate the carpenter’s skill even more.

  That evening, as the village settled into the quiet unease of night, Kalenor decided to visit the carpenter to express his gratitude. He found the man at his workshop, hunched over a table, working on another shield.

  You’ve done more than I could have asked,” Kalenor said as he approached. “Your work is masterful, I came to thank you properly.”

  The carpenter looked up, smiling faintly. “I’m glad it was of use to you, Scalesworn. But there’s still much to do.” He gestured to the shield in front of him. “I’m working on more. Our warriors and hunters need protection as well. The enchantment isn’t strong, but it will hold as long as the shield does.”

  Kalenor studied the man for a moment. “Where did you learn to enchant wood?” he asked.

  The carpenter set down his tools and leaned back, his expression tinged with nostalgia. “I wasn’t always a carpenter. I once served as a Knight of Brynshale’s court. But after many years of service, I left. I came here to be closer to the Cragthorn Caverns, hoping to glimpse the legendary creatures that are said to dwell within.”

  “Legendary creatures?” Kalenor asked, intrigued.

  The carpenter nodded. “The Crystalspine, a lizard-like creature covered in shimmering crystals, and the Cragspike, a massive gorilla-like beast with a spiked, mace-like tail. They’re not aggressive unless you intrude on their territory, but few have seen them and lived to tell the tale. The caverns are their domain, and they don’t tolerate trespassers.”

  Kalenor listened intently, the man’s stories sparking a faint curiosity despite the weight of his duties. “You’ve seen these creatures?” he asked.

  The carpenter shook his head. “Not yet. But I hope to one day. For now, my duty is here. If these shields can save lives, then I will keep making them until I can no longer lift a chisel.”

  Kalenor nodded, impressed by the man’s resolve. “Your work is invaluable. You have my gratitude.”

  Before leaving, Kalenor recited the runes on his shield once more, ceasing the enchantment to preserve its energy. The mist dissipated, and the shield returned to its original state. He glanced back at the carpenter, who had already returned to his work, and gave a small nod of respect.

  As Kalenor walked back to the inn, the events of the day weighed heavily on him, but the shield on his back felt like a symbol of hope—a reminder that even in the face of corruption, the strength of unity and craftsmanship could shine through.