As the group follows Maiwyn through the grass clearing of the woods, Faylin looks over and whispers to Lyrian, "this is bad Lyrian. Our plans fell through."

  "I know," Lyrian sighs. "The elves won't help us. But it'll be okay."

  "Look, I really want to help Aleena, but eventually, I'm going to have to return home," Faylin says adding a hint of guilt.

  "I'm not abandoning Aleena Fay, this is all just too sad with everything that's happening," Lyrian gives her puppy eyes yet his voice is serious.

  Maiwyn turns and gives Faylin a hard glare. Faylin's eyes lower as she looks away from the green haired healer. She quickly makes conversation with Aleena.

  "I don't suppose you have any chicken?" Faylin ponders.

  Aleena laughs nervously, "goodness Faylin, we've been through this so many times."

  "Fine, then I guess that's a no on meat. Let me think um... cheese? Milk?" she guesses.

  "We do make cheese. And bread. It's baked just like yours only with different ingredients and recipes," Aleena explains.

  "I'm going to miss meat."

  "I thought that when you told the elder you gave something freely, that you might've learned something about our vegetarian diet. Can't you think of anything beyond just trading coins and meat?" Aleena scoffs and raises her head high.

  The three sit down at a wooden dinning table near some stoves. It is underneath a canopy, which is a makeshift structure built for cooking meals, that is outside.

  Maiwyn heads for the stove, to drop some veggies in pan, readying the fire with some coal.

  Faylin continues to talk to Aleena across from her, "speaking of your elder, why does he have to push your entire clan's views on us that? I feel judged."

  "Then you obviously don't get why he does it in the first place. It's not to judge, it's about respect and trust, considering that you're in our territory now. Elves have to be careful of your kind," Aleena explains.

  Faylin scrapes her finger along dust on the table of the outside. Other elves are coming to join for dinner around the outstretched family table.

  "This doesn't look very sanitary," Faylin comments. "I hope you wash your vegetables."

  "Sanitary? What do you mean?" Aleena asks, "the cooks wash their hands."

  "I mean," Faylin points to the pots on the wooden stoves. "That looks like rust. Are there rodents here? Who knows what kind of diseases are lurking around these corners? Including your vegetables. Who knows what kind of worms have been eating off those peppers."

  "It's natural for humans to worry about things they cannot see," Aleena twirls a fork on her table as other elves are chatting among themselves.

  Faylin looks at her with distain, "this is not imaginary. This is very real and concerning. You ever heard of plague or rabies or dysentery or salmonella or-"

  "What the hell are those terms?" Aleena squints her eyes at her, "do humans normally make things up? And our vegetables are not contaminated. The nutrients in the ground are very healthy."

  Lyrian turns to Faylin calmly, "Fay, it'll be fine. Don't make a scene."

  Faylin mumbles to her self with her teeth together. Maiwyn places a stack of plates next to them, moving onto the next group for their stack. They grab some dishes once Maiwyn serves large plates and bowls full of fruits and veggies. Everyone serves themselves, passing around vegetable stew, fruit filled dumplings, and fresh berries. Aleena takes bites from a sweet cornbread.

  The green haired female sits at the table next to Aleena. She looks at Lyrian and Faylin, unsure what to think of them. Maiwyn is surprised that the elder allowed humans into the encampment, given her history with them.

  Although, Faylin glances at her as she scoops up vegetable stew to splatter in her own bowl. It is awkward with Faylin's complaints, but the elves already expect it. Maiwyn sits dejected by Faylin but takes the heat anyway as if she was used to it.

  Aleena tries to break the silence, scooting to adjust herself in her chair.

  "So, Maiwyn. Is there anyway way that Faylin would be able to use the crafters forge?" Aleena asks, taking a bite of a strawberry.

  "That would be up to the crafter. I don't know Aleena. I'm not really even a part of this clan. I'm a traveling forest healer who protects the plants and wildlife here," she explains with her soft voice. Her eyes seem cold and dull, but with an innocence, she takes a delicate bite of a peach dumpling.

  "Who are you anyway Maiwyn? If you're not apart of this clan, what do you do and how do you know Aleena?" Faylin asks.

  "Aleena and I are very complex human," Maiwyn dismisses her with a simple answer.

  Aleena glares at Maiwyn's stuck up attitude, "don't be rude Maiwyn. At least make conversation."

  Faylin picks up a spoonful of her soup and tastes it, then frowns, setting down her silverware with a sour expression.

  Maiwyn's attention locks on her with a blank stare, "how is the food blacksmith?"

  "It's good," Faylin answers still with a sour taste of veggies and dirt.

  Maiwyn sighs, not believing her, "well then, Aleena and I used to be close friends. Unfortunately we grew apart for a while."

  "Though it's never changed my view of you. You're still my sister Maiwyn," Aleena's heart still blossoms at her once best friend.

  "I struggle to say the same Aleena," says Maiwyn by a thread of sorrow.

  "But you still consider me as a sister don't you? We're wood elves, family," she worries.

  "I do, but that doesn't mean I'm not forced to walk on eggshells around you," she takes another bite of a peach dumpling.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  Aleena feels the soft texture of her cornbread and takes a small nibble while trying to hold back a few tears. Cornbread is held to her chest as if she was to say a prayer in her mind.

  Lyrian offers a smile and hands her a salad bowl, "it's good if you make a sandwich, you know?"

  Her vision blurs for a second but she blinks them away and hands Lyrian the small bitten cornbread. He cuts it in half, sprinkles lettuce and peppers, then places a tomato and a fried eggplant in the center.

  Aleena chuckles as the sandwich is put on her plate. She savors a bite, loving the taste of the contents between the bread.

  "It'll be okay Aleena," Lyrian says still trying to cheer her up.

  Aleena closes her eyes as those words hurt even more, "I just wish things were different. And I just wish we could find what this beastmaster wants."

  "Well you shouldn't poke your nose around where it doesn't belong. That's what got our clan in trouble," Maiwyn remarks stabbing a piece of lettuce on her fork.

  "What do you mean?" Aleena glances over to her.

  "You saw how it was, our people lived peaceful lives. Then you showed up. Soon enough, so did those humans. Soon we had conflict within our own clan with this group and that group. Some wanted to leave the forest altogether. Others wanted to stay here. Some of our people died arguing and fighting each other. That's why I chose to live nomadically rather than stay put."

  Aleena pounds the table, "you were banished for your destructive ideals you liar! You were forced to wander the forest alone."

  "Not just that. Because I have other motives."

  "And what's that?"

  "It matters not."

  "Don't you pin this on me, Maiwyn. You're the one that divided our clan," Aleena accuses pointing at her.

  Lyrian eats his stew with a mouthful, watching intently while Faylin picks at her food. Her face scrunches in distaste and disinterest.

  Maiwyn continues, "I simply suggested an alternate solution that didn't involve humans. But you ruined that. And now we lost everything."

  "Do you honestly believe that I am responsible for this chaos that surrounds us? This necromancy?"

  "Necromancy? Do you see any undead walking the forest?" Maiwyn chuckles. "You're ridiculous."

  "Do you honestly believe that the dinosaurs are coming back to life because nature intended it so? Dinosaur bones being brought to life is the same as a necromancer raising the dead," Aleena explains.

  "This is the forest. Nature is coming back to life. Mother nature is angry and she's taking revenge against humanity and defilers of nature."

  Aleena scoots her chair back and gets up. "Faylin, Lyrian, let's go. Let's set Faylin up with the crafter. Maiwyn, don't talk to me for the rest of the day, I thought you were my friend," hurt fills Aleena's eyes as she looks away.

  "Apparently you chose humans over your own family. We aren't friends Aleena. Not as long as you walk with those two sinful dogs."

  Those words has made a stinging pain in Aleena walking away. Pain in her chest spreads for a brief moment, choking up her throat.

  They walk out of the dining area. Aleena sulks as Lyrian rubs her shoulder. Faylin watches as several elves kneel over a wooden frame. Wooden planks run along it's top edge, creating a table-like surface. A man hammers down a nail on the wood while a woman holds a plank steady. Children play in between adults as they pound and saw various pieces.

  The main crafter carves some wood into a crescent shape like a bow. A shed is behind their tent, as well as an elven wagon home with swirls of decor and hanging lanterns of tallow and fireflies.

  Wood already fills their noses as they walk passed the other crafters to find the shop owner sitting in his tent, sanding down a bow.

  "Crafter," Aleena says in a quiet tone. "This here is a blacksmith that wishes to borrow your tools. She'll help us in our quest to stop the Beastmaster and the dinosaur menace."

  The crafter gets out of his seat, walking out of his tent. His tent covers a wide area with tables that house scattered materials. Various types of lumber are set in piles ranging from oak, birch, pine, spruce, and cherry.

  "Hello there. My name is Reklan. I hear you are a skilled smith," he pauses to take a closer look at her. "Human, that is."

  "Yes I am. I am Faylin. I've worked at only one forge really. Mostly in Acrine, but I've been on the move lately so haven't had much work recently. I have to repair armor and weapons for back home to make a living. My mother is paralyzed and I have to keep a roof over her head."

  "Well that's a noble cause," he smiles and offers his hand.

  "Nice to meet you," she shakes his hand firmly.

  "Of course, my pleasure as well," he says happily, smiling warmly. "If there's anything you want, just ask."

  "Do you require any trade to use your forge?" she asks.

  Reklan holds a welcoming presence but Aleena feels impatient as she leans on the wagon waiting on Faylin to hurry. Though she still can't shake the thoughts of Maiwyn at dinner.

  Reklan answers comforting once again, "no trade needed. If Aleena and our elder trust you, you may use our forge and tools we have here."

  "Thank you, thank you very much," Faylin widens her eyes, gracefully.

  "Now about those materials, we are low in metals. But feel free to browse whatever else you need." He leads Faylin and Lyrian to his storage, piles of wood planks and branches carve a path for them.

  A small door way stands in their path, covered by a thick cloth. He pulls back the cloth and opens the door for them, pulling apart cobwebs and tracking up dust. Dusk from outside shines orange in the horizon, and they are surrounded by a fenced in area.

  "My wife should be able to explain this area more than myself. But over here is our forge," he walks them past the door way and straight towards the back. There's a metal barrel where one pours molten steel or iron, a furnace, bellows to fan flames, water buckets, an anvil, and grind stone. Just everything a blacksmith needs.

  "If there's anything you need, let me know and I'll see if I can find it," Reklan leaves the three as they browse around.

  Faylin spots an empty area. "Look, a grinding wheel!" she gasps, running over the large stone wheel.

  Her happiness turns to a frown however, feeling the jagged stone, bumpy and small rocks put together, "it's too jagged, it'll scratch the blade."

  She sighs but doesn't let her ruin her excitement, "Lyrian get the iron ore from our carriage. It's been so long since I worked."

  She tosses off her leather top and boots. Wearing a brown cotton bra, she puts on some heat resistant gloves and an apron. Faylin ties on her protective gear.

  Afterwards Lyrian heads back to the horse cart to retrieve her supplies and items.

  "And an anvil," Faylin notices another table in the corner and runs over to it excitedly. However the anvil is small enough for a sitting position, "goodness, how am I going to hammer down on this thing?"

  Lyrian is over by the horses untying the knots of the wagon tarp holding the ore.

  In the corner stands a large stump where Reklan would sit, shaping wood.

  Lyrian comes back with some of the ore in a small wagon, "here, that's some from what we have gathered at Mosswick."

  "Let's start with the iron. Something simple. I'm out of practice for too long."

  Lyrian loads up the iron into the smelter's stove. Faylin shovels coal under it and Lyrian loads the ore in the container on top. The slag drop furnace is too small and the ore is sticking out. Faylin sighs with disappointment but lights it up anyway. Flames funnel through the top of the metal furnace for them to wait for the ore to cook into molten iron.

  She opens up the small shaft hole at the bottom of the smelter. The hot airflow whisks passed her. Molten slag streams out from the hole, the excess of rock and dirt extracting from the iron. The temperature slowly rises, glowing orange at the bottom of the furnace.

  "You humans love this don't you?" Aleena comments with a small smirk. She sits down at the stump and pulls a book from her bag.

  "Mhm." Faylin nods as her body rocks up and down with the pumping of bellows. The blacksmith keeps pushing as sweat drips from her skin. As her muscles grow stronger, they begin to tire and ache.

  "Isn't that heavy?" Aleena asks.

  She smiles, breathing heavily and sweating. A molten ingot drops on the anvil, carried by a pair of tongs, "not anymore."

  The misshapen ingot suddenly falls, spraying firey rock into dry grass. A panic issues on Faylin, "gods!"

  Faylin quickly places the iron on the anvil again, struggling to get it to stay. Her foot tries to stomp out the molten fire on the grass. She yells, "ugh! This anvil is too small!"

  "This thing is going to explode if we leave it alone," Faylin adds leaving the ingot to move towards the furnace. Perspiration streaks off her forehead from wiping as it trickles into her eyes.

  "Why are you sweating like a pig? We're outdoors?" Aleena comments again, enjoying the nagging.

  "It's called a sweat lodge," Faylin explains with a smirk, pouring water over the drop furnace.

  Aleena playfully rolls her eyes and watches them work, almost taking interest in the smelting process.

  Dusk is getting darker, and Faylin works, while Lyrian helps with the smaller tasks, and Aleena watches, peacefully reading her book.

  Maiwyn and Aleena at dinner

  Faylin Starts Smithing Again