Chapter 124: Shadows of Destiny
Kellar looked at the youth, who kept his arms outstretched in front of his sister, his breathing heavy and cold sweat soaking his forehead despite the night wind.
"Lower your hands," said Kellar, his voice soft and conveying a calm that the freezing air denied them. "No one is going to harm you. What are your names?"
The boy lowered his arms still trembling from head to toe.
"My name is Ron, Great Shaman," said the youth, gathering whatever courage he had left. "And she is my sister Lía. I beg you not to punish her; she cannot hear or speak."
Kellar did not reply. He approached and knelt in the snow before Lía. The girl watched him with her large, dark eyes, attentive to his every move. Kellar did not address her brother; instead, he looked directly at her and began speaking with his hands, accompanying the gestures with slow, clear mouth movements.
"What do you want? What do you wish to do here?" gestured Kellar, pointing at her and then at the surrounding camp.
Lía opened her eyes wide in awe. The shock of finding someone who looked her straight in the face to communicate in such a manner froze her breath. After a moment’s hesitation, she uttered a soft, low guttural sound, while her fingers responded with desperate clarity: she pointed at her brother, then at her own chest, and pointed at Ron once more, pressing her hands against her heart in a pure gesture of protection.
"So instead of asking for yourself, you ask for him," said Kellar, smiling with genuine respect before turning toward the boy.
Kellar stood up and rested a firm hand on Ron’s shoulder, looking him straight in the eye.
"I see you have courage and that you protect your own," said Kellar, observing the young man’s resolve. "From this day forward, you will be my apprentice. You will come with me to the main village, learn my teachings, and assist me with the sacred workshop’s tasks. You will have food, shelter, and the chance to become someone strong."
"Your... your apprentice, Great Shaman?" said Ron, his voice breaking as tears rolled down his cheeks. "It is an honor I do not deserve! I will work until exhaustion! I will never disappoint you!"
Kellar knelt back down before Lía to communicate her own fate. Patiently, he began gesturing once again before her to explain her new role as his personal assistant, pointing to his own shadow and then at her: "You will also come with me to the main village. You will follow me wherever I go. You will eat from my own table. You will sleep where I rest, and you will be under my direct care."
However, for someone raised in the harsh crudeness of the northern tribes, the interpretation of those gestures was entirely different. To Lía, a supreme leader telling a woman that she would travel with him, eat from his table, and sleep where he rested beneath his personal shadow meant only one thing: the shaman was claiming her as his woman and bedmate.
Lía grasped the weight of what she believed she had understood. A surge of heat rushed to her cheeks, staining them a deep crimson beneath the bright moonlight. Her heart began beating wildly against her ribs, gazing at the shaman’s firm chest and noble face. Yet, she did not pull back or avert her eyes. After a brief silence, she bowed her head, accepting the mandate to warm his bed with complete, blushing submission.
Lía, seeing that her brother would travel alongside them as an apprentice and believing that her own surrender guaranteed the lives of both, knelt in the snow and placed her forehead on the frozen ground as a sign of eternal gratitude and devotion.
Kellar oblivious to the sensual misunderstanding he had just planted in the young woman’s mind, reached down, took her firmly by the shoulder, and gently raised her from the snow.
"Stand up, both of you," said Kellar, looking at them warmly. "Gather your things. Tomorrow early, you depart with me to the main village."
At dawn, the mountain mists were displaced by the fortress’s bustling activity. The central yard was packed from end to end. Krag, Lennis, Garik, Vael, and Mark stood lined up beside the workers around the imposing Forced-Draft Blast Furnace. Behind Kellar, Ron held his chin high, proudly displaying his new position as an apprentice, while Lía walked with a steady stride beside him, wearing a heavy cloak and keeping her eyes fixed on the shaman’s back, her cheeks still flushing pink every time he turned to look at them.
Inside the four-meter refractory tower, alternating layers of charcoal, limestone, and iron ore filled the chimney to the top.
"Everything is ready, Great Shaman," said Lennis, handing him a burning torch whose flame danced in the cold morning wind. "The tuyeres are aligned and the bellows are ready."
Kellar took the torch firmly and turned to the crowd, raising the flame.
"This fire will not only melt rock," said Kellar, his powerful voice echoing throughout the compound. "This fire will shape the future of the Overlord Tribe. Let the age of iron begin!"
Without wasting a second, Kellar thrust the flame through the furnace’s lower opening. The coal ignited, and a dense column of white smoke rose through the conical chimney into the frozen sky.
"Operate the bellows! With strength!" roared Krag, stepping forward to coordinate the men.
The workers drove the double-action levers with all their might. The massive leather bellows injected a surge of pressurized air through the tuyeres, creating a thunderous roar in the heart of the furnace. An incandescent orange glow illuminated the tower’s base, radiating a suffocating wave of heat that forced everyone to take a step back.
Garik, peering through the inspection sight with a leather mask covering his face, let out a shout of pure euphoria.
"The ore is melting!" said Garik, turning to Kellar with eyes wide with excitement. "The liquid iron is flowing like water at the bottom!"
A roar of jubilant awe erupted among the villagers and warriors. Krag pumped his fist proudly in the air, while Mark watched the imposing chimney with reverent respect. Before everyone’s eyes, the mass production of true metal had just been born.