Page 13 of Shadows of the Lost Relic (Vanguard of the Ancients #1)
Chapter 13
Caspian
I ’d always known there was more to my lineage than just the ability to tinker with gadgets. My ancestors were creators, crafters of wonders and horrors alike. Hephaestus, the god of fire and forge, was the source of my bloodline’s power. That knowledge had never felt so heavy, so inescapable as it did now.
The transport hummed quietly around us as we made our way to the hidden forge, the one Hephaestus himself had created eons ago. I stared out the small window, the landscape below us gradually shifting from dense forests to jagged, rocky terrain, my thoughts a tangled mess of anticipation and dread. I could feel the weight of what was coming: the suffocating heat of a forge fire against my back, pushing against memories that I did my best not to think about, but was reminded of every day.
There hadn’t been much time to prepare for this mission after retrieving the Amulet of Erebus. The threat of the Shadowborn was growing by the day—it was all anyone at the Vanguard was talking about. The Amulet was a piece of the puzzle they were trying to put together, but we needed to do more than hide it away. We needed to go on the offensive. We needed a plan to stand against the darkness.
Lyra sat across from me, her expression guarded. She was focused, as always, her mind likely racing with strategies and contingencies. There was a determination in her I admired, even as it sometimes made me feel inadequate. She was quick on her feet and unafraid to take risks, but here, in the forge’s heart, I would have to lead her. I would have to face the flames that had scarred me and tap into a power I’d spent most of my life avoiding.
I shifted in my seat, trying to push the memories of that day—the day the forge lashed out at me—back into the recesses of my mind. But they lingered, as they always did, a constant reminder of my limitations, of the price of failure.
“You okay?” Lyra’s voice broke through my thoughts, gentle but tinged with concern. She was looking at me now, her eyes searching mine as if she could see the turmoil beneath the surface.
I forced a small smile, nodding. “Yeah, I was thinking about what comes next.”
She held my gaze for a moment longer, weighing the truth of my words before nodding in return. She reached over, giving my hand a squeeze. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
Her confidence was infectious, but it didn’t erase the doubts gnawing at me. I wasn’t sure I could forge a weapon powerful enough to protect us while confronting the fears that still haunted me. There was no turning back now, though. The forge awaited, and with it, the destiny I’d been running from for far too long.
The transport descended into a narrow canyon, the walls towering above us, with ancient sentinels guarding a long-forgotten secret. The entrance to the forge was hidden deep within these cliffs, accessible only to those who knew where to look.
According to the old texts, it had been sealed for centuries, its flames dormant, waiting for a Scion of Hephaestus to awaken them. Bringing the forge back to life had been one of my tasks not long after I joined the Vanguard. I had only used it when emergencies called for it since then. It was another reminder of how serious things were with the Shadowborn.
The transport landed, the hatch opened with a hiss, and we stepped out onto the rocky ground. The air was warm, but nothing compared to the heat that would soon engulf us. The path ahead was treacherous—a narrow trail carved into the side of the canyon—but we moved with purpose, our goal clear.
A massive stone door marked the entrance, its surface etched with ancient symbols. I felt a familiar pull as I approached, a connection to the place that was as undeniable as it was unsettling. This was the legacy I had inherited, the power that had scarred me and shaped me in ways I was still coming to terms with.
“Ready?” Lyra asked, her voice soft yet steady as she moved to stand beside me.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry as the reality of what I was about to do settled over me. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
She gave me a small nod of encouragement, her presence grounding me. The feelings and connection between us had grown stronger when I was injured on the last mission. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I knew I wasn’t alone in this. And that made all the difference.
With a deep breath, I steeled my nerves and rested my hand against the door, pushing back the unease that crept up my spine when the smooth stone warmed my palm. All across the door, the symbols started to glow, responding to my touch. The door slowly slid open with a low rumble, revealing the dark passage beyond. The air that greeted us was heavy with the scent of ash and metal, a reminder of the power that lay within. The only light came from the faint glow of the symbols lining the walls that guided us deeper into the forge’s embrace. My heart pounded in my chest, each step bringing me closer to the place where I would either help my team or fail them.
Finally, we reached the end of the passage, and the space opened up into a vast chamber. The forge was just as I remembered it. A massive cavern with a central hearth—it was cold, its once-roaring flames extinguished, but the air still thrummed with latent energy—surrounded by an array of ancient tools and equipment, all crafted by Hephaestus himself, their surfaces worn smooth by the hands of countless artisans who had come before me. But they were more than just tools. They were extensions of the forge itself. Each used by divine hands to create wonders. I could feel their potential like a hum in the air, waiting to be awakened.
To do that, I needed to face the flames.
“This is it,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Lyra stepped forward, her eyes wide with awe as she surveyed the chamber. “It’s incredible. The power here is overwhelming.”
I nodded, the weight of that power pressing down on me and smothering a verbal response. The forge was more than just a place to craft weapons and tools. It was a conduit for the divine energy of Hephaestus, a force that could create wonders or unleash destruction. And now, it was up to me to harness that power.
My steps were slow and deliberate as I approached the hearth. I hesitated, memories of my first encounter with the forge flashing through my mind. The pain, the heat, the way the flames had come alive and lashed out at me as if they knew my fear. I still wore the scars on my arm, a daily reminder of what happens when you lose control. I had used the forge since that day, but each time was like this, reminding me of what I had been through.
“Caspian? You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here with you.” Lyra’s voice pulled me back to the present, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder.
I turned to her, searching her eyes for what I needed. Reassurance, maybe, or the strength I needed to face what was coming. What I found went beyond words. A connection, a bond that had grown stronger with each trial we faced together. She believed in me, even now, when I struggled to believe in myself.
“I know. But I need to do this. The forge is a part of me. I can’t fear it anymore,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
She nodded, understanding shining in her eyes. “Then let’s do this.”
I took a deep breath and turned back to the hearth. It helped to steady my churning emotions as I reached out and placed my hand on the edge of the smooth stone. It was so cold it sent a shiver through me, but I didn’t pull away. Instead, I closed my eyes and reached deep within myself, searching for the spark of power that I knew was there, buried beneath the fear and the doubt. It was a part of my soul, an irrepressible part of who I was.
The forge eagerly responded to my call, the air around me growing warmer as the ancient magic stirred. The fire awakened like a beast rousing from a long slumber, its flames flickering to life deep within the hearth, throwing out an intense heat that made me want to flinch. But I suppressed the urge. I couldn’t afford to show weakness. I didn’t only have myself to keep safe; I had to keep Lyra safe as well.
The flames roared to life, filling the chamber with a brilliant light. Heat washed over me, searing and relentless, but this time, I didn’t back down; I held my ground, channeling the power of the forge into the hearth. Once it was lit and the metal heated, I used the worn and ancient tools to shape the metal with precision and intent.
Each strike of the hammer sent sparks flying, the sound echoing through the chamber like a thunderclap. The metal glowed brightly, taking shape under my hands as I poured everything I had into the work. A weapon was coming to life, its form emerging from the raw materials as if it had always existed, waiting to be revealed.
The fire wasn’t just in the forge. It was in me. It burned through my veins, the power of Hephaestus coursing through me as I worked, growing hotter with every clash of tool against metal. It was exhilarating, terrifying, a rush of energy that threatened to consume me if I let it. But I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t afford to.
Lyra couldn’t get as close to the hearth as I could, so she stood off to the side, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of power that surrounded me. Though she didn’t speak, her support pierced the heat, her belief in me grounding me even as the flames tried to pull me under. It was enough to keep me going, enough to keep me focused on the task at hand.
When the weapon was nearly complete, its form solid and strong, imbued with the power of the forge, I realized a part of it was missing, an essential piece that I couldn’t quite grasp.
The flames flickered around me, sensing my hesitation, my uncertainty.
Then it hit me. The hammer I had forged wasn’t just a weapon, it was an extension of myself, of the power I carried within me. It was a tool. I had been holding back, afraid of what might happen if I let the fire consume me. But now, in the heart of the forge, I realized I couldn’t forge this hammer with fear. I had to embrace the fire, let it become a part of me.
With a deep breath, I let go of the fear that had held me back for so long. I let the fire in, let it fill me completely, until there was nothing left but the heat, the power, and the will to create. The flames roared in response, the forge flaring brighter with a brilliance that filled the chamber.
The hammer was complete, its form perfect, the metal glowing with a soft, otherworldly light. But the moment of triumph was short-lived. The flames surged, the heat growing unbearable as the forge demanded more, not satisfied with what I had created.
I knew something was wrong. The fire wasn’t subsiding; it was growing, spiraling out of control. I tried to pull back, to rein it in, but it was too late. The forge had taken on a life of its own, and the flames leaped higher, threatening to consume everything in their path.
“Caspian!” Lyra’s voice was sharp with alarm, cutting through the roar of the fire. She reached for me, but I could barely hear her over the deafening sound of the forge.
“I can’t stop it!” I shouted, panic rising in my chest as the flames closed in around us. The heat was overwhelming, the power of the forge an inferno that threatened to consume not just us, but everything in its path.
The hammer in my hands burned with an intensity that matched the flames, the metal searing my skin even as I tried to hold on. I could feel the forge’s power reaching out, trying to take more than I could give, trying to draw me into the fire with it.
Lyra’s grip tightened on my arm, her eyes wide with fear and determination. Her skin was bright red, her hair slick with sweat. “We have to get out of here!”
I couldn’t move, couldn’t pull away from the fire that was fighting to claim me. The forge was demanding a piece I wasn’t sure I could give, a piece that went beyond just creating a weapon.
The flames roared around us, the heat searing, and my control began to slip away, the forge’s power threatening to consume me completely. I was on the edge of a precipice I didn’t fully understand, and I wasn’t sure if I could survive it.
As I felt myself being pulled under, the chamber shook with a violent tremor. The flames surged one final time, the heat overwhelming.
Just as suddenly as it had begun, everything went dark.