Page 22 of Her Orc Blacksmith

“Maybe,” he said gruffly. “If there's time.”

We made our way through the market, Vorgath handling each vendor with quiet, straightforward efficiency. He kept it simple—a few words, a nod, an exchange of coins, and the parcel in his hand. The vendors, seemingly accustomed to his presence, responded with ease.

After making a few more purchases, we found ourselves back beside the pastry stand. The smell of sugar and cinnamon waslike a siren call, and I noticed Vorgath eyeing the display again, making me wonder about his sweet tooth.

“Try one,” I suggested, nudging him lightly with my elbow.

“Not necessary,” he said, but his gaze lingered on a particular roll that seemed to be dipped in a glowing, golden syrup.

“Oh, come on,” I urged, leaning in a little closer. “Treat yourself. And maybe your apprentice has earned one, too.”

With a resigned sigh, clearer to me as amusement than annoyance, he relented and purchased not one but two of the glowing sweet rolls. The vendor, an elderly woman with deep laugh lines and a scarf knotted at her neck, eyed Vorgath with open curiosity but didn’t hesitate to pocket the coins.

I tore off a piece from my roll and popped it into my mouth, the flavors bursting across my tongue. “Wow,” I exclaimed around a mouthful. “I haven’t had one of these since I was a girl. It's an Elandor roll.”

“Elandor?” Vorgath asked, his brow furrowing as he took a cautious bite.

He chewed slowly, the muscles of his jaw working as he processed the flavors. I watched him, waiting for his reaction, pleased when his eyes widened with appreciation.

“There’s warmth,” he murmured, more to himself. “Like holding a hearth in your hands.”

“That’s Elandor’s magic,” I explained. “Simple, comforting—meant to remind us of home, no matter how far we are. The sap is harvested from seedlings of the Hearthkeeper's Tree.”

Vorgath fell silent, taking another bite. He didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t have to. There was a shift in his expression—a softening, a flicker of understanding—a moment where he, too, seemed to find comfort in something as simple as the taste of home. And in that moment, I wondered—what was home to him? Was it still the mountains, with his clan? Or had he foundit in the quiet solitude of his cabin in the Moonshadow Forest? Or maybe...

Could it be... me? My cottage, my dinner table, the laughter of a child who had so easily accepted him?

I swallowed the thought quickly, shaking it off before it could take root. Yet it lingered beneath the surface as we finished the last bites of our sweet rolls in silence.

I dabbed my fingers against a cloth, clearing away the sticky remnants of syrup, and gave a light-hearted smile.

“So,” I said, clearing my throat gently, “what’s next?”

Vorgath took a moment before responding, still savoring the taste of the Elandor roll on his tongue. “There’s one more thing we need to get.”

Without further explanation, he steered us off the main market path, heading into narrower, shadowed lanes. The vibrant energy of the market faded away, replaced by a quieter, almost mystical ambiance.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“The Runery,” Vorgath replied. “It’s on the edge of the Shadows.”

The Shadows. Just hearing the name of that part of town made me tense. The district had a reputation—half of it deserved, the other half embroidered by the village gossip mill. Either way, it wasn’t exactly known for its welcoming atmosphere. Thieves, smugglers, and underground dealings had earned it a place in whispered warnings, and I’d heard more than one rumor about illegal fighting rings. If someone wanted to disappear—or make trouble—the Shadows was the place for it.

I tried to mask my unease with a side-eye of mock sternness. “Sounds like the exact kind of place you shouldn’t take your apprentice if you plan to keep her around.”

A low rumble of amusement escaped from Vorgath. “It will be worth it.” His gaze softened as he added, “Trust me.”

Well, damn. How was I supposed to argue with that? With a reluctant nod, I fell into step beside him.

Chapter 10

The path grew narrower as we walked, the familiar sights of Everwood slowly giving way to a more unconventional landscape. The buildings here were older, their wooden façades weathered by time but adorned with intricate carvings and symbols. Lanterns flickered with an otherworldly blue flame, casting ghostly reflections on the cobblestone streets. There was a hush here, as if the very air held its breath.

Finally, we arrived at a small, nondescript building tucked between two larger ones. The door was carved from dark wood and etched with symbols I didn’t recognize but that gave off a faint glow in the dim light. Runes, perhaps. They seemed to pulse with a quiet energy, as though the building itself was alive, watching us.

Vorgath pushed the door open without hesitation, gesturing for me to step inside first. “After you.”

I hesitated for a moment, but curiosity soon won over apprehension. As I crossed the threshold, a shimmer caught myeye—a faint ripple in the air, like heat rising from stone on a summer’s day. The air tingled as I passed through, brushing against my skin like silk. For a split second, I felt a strange resistance, as if something was probing me, searching for something deeper. Then, it released, allowing me through.

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