Narrator: "Let's make an exchange, shall we? An exchange of... a story buried in the depths of forgotten history..."
"Long ago, two siblings lived in harmony and peace in a small town where the villagers were friendly and welcoming."
"Cyril, the elder brother, took care of his little sister after their parents went missing one day. While Safia, the little sister, suffered from a severe illness that made her body weak and fragile."
"Despite the challenge, Cyril's resolved never to waver. He worked around the town to earn money for her sister at home; no matter how hard the job was, he would do anything for her sister."
"Life was not easy, but it was enough for both of them."
"Until... It isn't "
...
"I'm going out, Safia. Take care alright?" Cyril said to Safia, standing at the doorframe.
Safia gave him a weak smile and nodded, "Yes, brother.. take care." She coughed a few times but managed to give a small wave at her brother, assuring him that she would be alright.
With a heavy heart, Cyril nodded and left for work, feeling troubled.
He walked through the path he usually uses to go to the town. The walk was quiet, accompanied only by the sounds of nature — the chirping birds, the squeaking of squirrels, and the rustling of the forest.
After a while, he finally reached the town of Azrya — it was lively and full of activities. The townsfolk were trading goods, farming, and baking cakes. It's a simple life but a fulfilling one for them.
Cyril made his way through the market, greeted by the familiar townsfolk.
Finally, he arrived in front of a blacksmith. The air is filled with the smells of freshly forged iron and dying embers. It was unpleasant but he endured it anyway for the sake of Safia.
Cyril entered the blacksmith, and the sound of metal hitting metal was thick in the air. He saw a middle-aged man with a scar on his hand forging a blade behind the counter — it was Fredrick, the owner of the blacksmith.
"Mister Fred?" Cyril asked.
Fredrick looked up to him, soaking the hot iron in the water to cool it down.
"Ah, Cyril. You're finally here. I thought you wouldn't come."
He cleaned his hands using his apron and walked up to Cyril.
"So, you're here for the usual commission right?"
Cyril nodded "Yeah."
Fredrick crossed his arms. "Well, I'm sorry, kid, but I wouldn't be able to pay you today."
Cyril's expression dimmed with disappointment, but he forced a smile to hide it.
"It's alright, Mister Fred. I'll come again tomorrow." Cyril turned to leave.
Just as he was about to reach the door, Fredrick stopped him "Hold on now, I didn't say you should go home just yet." He sighed
"How about this; you do your usual commission, and I'll pay you another way."
Cyril turned to him "Another way?" He asked.
Fredrick thought for a moment, then said, "I have a few collections of swords that didn't sell well. If you complete today's commission, I'll let you choose whichever you want from the collection."
Cyril's expression brightened; he always wanted to own a sword to protect his sister from danger. "Really? That'll be great!" He exclaimed.
"Alright, I'll get to work now!" Cyril rushed to the back of the counter and put on his apron with a renewed determination.
Throughout the day, Cyril worked relentlessly. He carried heavy irons from the storage room to the smithing station, forged weapons in high heat, and endured the exhaustion of labor. But at the end of the day, he knows that it will be worth it.
Hours have passed, and Cyril finally collapsed beside the stone wall, tired and spent.
Fredrick approached him "That's enough for today, kid. Come on, let's get your payment, as promised."
Cyril nodded, pushing himself to his feet and following Fredrick to the storage room.
Fredrick opened a trunk, revealing a collection of old swords. They were not in the best condition, and some of them were starting to rust.
"Here you go, pick one you think would suit you."
Cyril stepped up, looked inside the chest, and searched thoroughly. He carefully examined each sword to compare its quality.
Finally, he found a decent-looking sword. It's not rusted, but the craftsmanship isn't the finest of its kind. But for him, this is more than what he could afford.
"This one seems good, may I?"
Cyril turned to Fredrick while holding the sword in his hands.
He nodded in approval, "Yes... that one seems to be in good condition. Go ahead, take it home. But be mindful how you use it, a sword isn't just for attacking others."
Cyril nodded in gratitude "Thank you so much!" He exclaimed.
"Oh, don't worry, I'll be mindful when I use it, see you later, mister Fred!"
With that, he left the blacksmith with joy and returned to his house before nightfall.
["Voyagers! If you enjoyed this chapter, be sure to leave a review and comments! See you on the next voyage!"]