Page 49 of Her Orc Blacksmith

The door swung open, revealing a tall, slender figure silhouetted against the night sky. As he stepped into the flickering candlelight, I recognized the smooth ebony skin and flowing platinum hair of Sylwen Darkleaf, the elf from the Runery.

“I hope I'm not intruding,” Sylwen said. He was dressed in robes that seemed to shimmer like stardust, a stark contrast to our more practical attire. Golden earrings glinted in the dim light, and I noticed intricate designs etched into the jewelry he wore—runes, perhaps, or some form of elven script.

“Not at all,” I said, recovering from my surprise. “Please, join us. Though I have to admit, I wasn't expecting...”

“Vorgath mentioned your celebration,” Sylwen explained, his eyes finding the orc in our midst. “I hope it's not presumptuous, but I wanted to offer my congratulations in person. Your work has piqued my interest, Soraya. I believe there may be some fascinating collaborations in our future.”

My eyes widened at the prospect. First, mithral-weaving with Brilda, and now, the possibility of working with Sylwen's enchantments? It felt like my world was expanding in ways I'd never dared to dream.

“That would be incredible,” I managed, still a bit starstruck by his presence.

“Well, don't just stand there,” Thyri said. “Come in and have a drink with us! We're toasting to new beginnings.”

Sylwen's lips curved into a smile as he stepped fully into the forge. “New beginnings indeed. And I come bearing a gift to celebrate just that.”

From within his shimmering robes, he produced an elegant, deep indigo glass bottle. Its surface was etched with delicate runes that spiraled around the neck of the bottle, culminating in a flourish at the base that formed an intricate symbol, suggesting some kind of enchantment.

“Moonwine,” Sylwen explained. “An elven specialty, crafted under the light of a full moon. The process involves infusing the wine with the essence of the sacred Alder trees, drawing upon their restorative magic to enhance its properties.”

I took the bottle, admiring the craftsmanship. “It's beautiful, Sylwen. Thank you.”

Thyri peered at the bottle. “What does it do?” she asked warily, having been cautious about magical potions since a mishap with a less-than-reputable herbalist left her speaking only in rhymes for a week.

Sylwen accepted a drinking tin from Vorgath. “It reveals one's aura, making it visible to all.”

“Our auras?” I asked, both intrigued and slightly nervous.

“Indeed,” Sylwen nodded. “The colors and patterns that surround us, reflecting our emotions and inner selves. Usually only visible to those with the gift, but this wine...” He gestured to the bottle. “It allows everyone to see them, if only for a short time.”

I hesitated for a moment, glancing at Vorgath. The idea of having my innermost feelings on display was a bit unnerving. But his steady gaze met mine, and I felt a surge of courage. If Iwas going to bare my soul to anyone, it might as well be to this group.

“Why not?” I said, uncorking the bottle. The scent that wafted out was intoxicating—moonflowers and starlight, if such things had a scent.

I poured a measure into each of our tins, the liquid shimmering like molten silver. We raised our drinks, the anticipation palpable.

“To new beginnings,” Sylwen toasted, “and to seeing each other in a new light.”

We drank, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, the world around us began to change. It started as a faint shimmer in the air, like heat rising from the forge. But as I blinked, trying to focus, I realized it wasn't just the air—it wasus.

Colors bloomed around each person in the room. Thyri was surrounded by a vibrant orange, warm and exuberant. Mrs. Crumble's aura was a soft, comforting green, like moss in a sun-dappled forest. Sylwen's aura was shifting hues of pink and purple. Watching the colors swirling and dancing around him like a living aurora was mesmerizing.

But it was Vorgath's aura that truly caught my breath. Deep, rich reds and golds pulsed around him, like the heart of a forge. There was strength there, and passion, but also flickers of softer hues, hints of blue. As I watched, transfixed, I saw tendrils of his aura reaching out toward me.

“Oh my,” Mrs. Crumble whispered, her eyes wide with wonder as she looked around at us all.

Thyri let out a delighted laugh, twirling in place to watch her orange aura swirl around her. “This is amazing! Soraya, look at you!”

I looked down at myself, finally noticing my own aura. It was a swirl of deep purple and silver, with occasional flashes of fieryred. As I watched, fascinated, I saw the colors shift and change, responding to my emotions.

“The purple represents creativity and intuition,” Sylwen explained. “And that silver... it's rare. It speaks of potential, of great change on the horizon.”

I felt exposed, but as I glanced around at my friends, their warm gazes and the beauty of their auras filled me with gratitude. “This is incredible,” I breathed, watching as my aura brightened with joy.

Vorgath stepped closer, and our auras intertwined, forming a tapestry of red, gold, and purple. “It suits you,” he said.

Thyri cleared her throat, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Well, well, looks like some auras are getting cozy.”

Heat rose to my cheeks, but before I could respond, Sylwen spoke up. “You know, aura reading is an important part of many rituals,” he said, gracefully drawing attention away from Thyri's teasing comment. “There's a coming-of-age ceremony where young elves first learn to see auras. It's considered a vital skill for understanding oneself and others.”

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