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RAPUNZEL

T he morning air is crisp and the sky is blanketed with clouds, threatening rain as we say our goodbyes.

“Stay safe,” Aurora says, pulling me into a tight embrace. “Perhaps you can come visit again someday?”

I’ve never had a friend, as far as I can remember, and it was lovely to have someone else to talk to. We only just met, but I already know that I will miss her terribly. “I’d love that.”

Thalric stands beside her, his wings folded tight against his back, his tail curled around her ankle. He clasps Ren’s forearm, and Ren does the same in return. “Safe travels, my friend,” Thalric says. “And may the gods favor you both.”

I smile at him. “Thank you.”

Aurora gives me one last hug before we leave, promising me that we’ll see each other again in the future. I hope she’s right.

It’s a fairly short walk from Aurora’s home to the main part of the village. Oakvale’s streets are bustling with early morning activity—merchants setting up their stalls, the scent of fresh bread wafting from a nearby bakery, voices rising and falling in barter.

Ren walks beside me, my arm looped through his as we make our way to the village center to find the blacksmith Thalric told us about.

It doesn’t take long to find it as we stop before a two-story stone building with a heavy iron sign swinging above the door, stamped with the image of a hammer and anvil. Black smoke curls from the chimney, the tang of molten metal thick in the air.

The door creaks as we step inside, the heat from the forge wrapping around us like a thick cloak. Tools hang in neat rows on the walls, and weapons glint from their displays—swords, axes, and knives.

Ren rings the bell on the counter, and a massive Orc emerges from the back. He looks us up and down as he wipes the soot from his hands onto his leather apron. “Greetings,” he says with a friendly smile. “My name is Brakkus. What can I do for you today?”

He is at least half a head taller than Ren and heavily muscled. He has vivid blue eyes, green skin, and his thick, dark hair tied back in a short tail. With his sharp tusks peeking from his lower lip, he appears rather intimidating and I find myself moving a bit closer to Ren.

“I’m Ren, and this is Rapunzel.” He smiles. “We’re looking for a dagger, and we were told you’re the one to see about such things.”

The Orc opens his mouth to reply, but a fluffy orange cat leaps onto the counter beside him, rubbing against his arm. “There you are, you little menace,” he says, voice unexpectedly gentle. “I’ve been looking for you all morning.” He glances at us. “This is Ember.”

The cat lets out a small, pleased chirp, her tail flicking as she butts her head against his hand, demanding more pets.

Finik peeks his head out of my pocket and the cat’s head snaps toward him, her green eyes sparking with interest.

“Now, now,” Brakkus says. “No harassing the customers, Ember.”

As if understanding his words, the cat lies down, crossing her paws daintily in front of her as she rests on the counter.

I blink. I’ve never seen an Orc before, but Drusilla told me many stories about their supposedly bloodthirsty way. As I watch Brakkus with his cat, this is… definitely not what I expected.

Ren grins and reaches out to lightly scratch behind Ember’s left ear, and the cat purrs even louder. “She is quite lovely.”

The Orc snorts, giving Ember an indulgent look. “She knows it too.” He turns back to us. “You said you’re interested in daggers?”

Ren nods, and Brakkus reaches beneath the counter and pulls out an assortment of blades, laying them out with care. “Take your pick.”

“Which ones do you like?” Ren asks me.

I’ve never owned a weapon, and I’m not sure where to even begin. As I study the various knives, one catches my attention. It’s a slender dagger with a polished bone grip and a curved blade.

It’s small enough to conceal in the hidden pocket of my dress, and not quite as heavy as the others. “I think I like this one.”

“We’ll take it,” he tells the Orc.

Brakkus grins at me. “Good choice.” He glances at Ren. “It’ll keep your mate safe.”

My heart stumbles in my chest when Ren doesn’t correct the Orc. I glance at him, but he’s already pulling out a few coins from our satchel to pay.

Before he can hand them over, Brakkus shakes his head. “Keep it,” he says. “Consider this a bonding gift.”

“A bonding gift?” I ask.

The Orc gestures between me and Ren. “The threads of your fate bond are exceptionally bright.” He grins. “Which means they’re still rather new.”

I blink at him. “You can actually see it?”

“Aye. I’ve had the sight for such things since I was an Orcling.”

Before I can say anything to that, Ren looks at the Orc. “I truly appreciate the gift, Brakkus, but I feel guilty not paying for such fine craftsmanship.”

Brakkus waves a large, calloused hand dismissively. “No need for coin, Fox. But if you insist on payment, perhaps you could gift me some of your famous fox luck to help me find my own fated mate.”

I frown, wondering what he means. Before I can ask, Ren leans over the counter, arching a brow. “Contrary to popular belief, my friend, fox luck isn’t actually a real thing. It’s just an overly flattering rumor spread by foxes themselves to attract mates.”

Brakkus crosses his thick arms, entirely unconvinced. “Rumor or not, I'll take it all the same.”

“All right,” Ren sighs. “One moment and I’ll summon up some legendary luck just for you.

” Clearly humoring the orc, he theatrically rubs his palms together and then makes a dramatic flourish with his hand, before tapping Brakkus's massive forearm.

He grins. “There. Luck officially bestowed. May it help you find your future mate in no time.”

Brakkus claps him on the shoulder. “Many thanks, my friend.”

Ren bows grandly. “You're very welcome.”

As we step out of Brakkus’s shop, I glance at Ren. “You know… if it works, then word is going to spread far and wide that fox luck is a real thing,” I tease.

He flashes a handsome smile, his amber eyes gleaming mischievously. “If Brakkus finds a mate tomorrow, I'll claim full credit. If he doesn't, obviously the problem was on his end of things.”

I laugh, shaking my head. "Of course.”

When we reach the edge of the village, instead of taking the main road, Ren veers toward the forest. “I believe we’ll be safer if we stick to the woods. Less chance of running into trouble.”

He shifts into his fox form and I climb onto his back as we set out into the woods.