Sun Haven Blacksmith Novels & Stories

"Call us in 3 days. We'll have it ready for you." "Oh, thank you," I stated, taking the card from his hand. It was plain white, and to the naked eye, would appear blank. But I knew better. I tilted it under the low light in the room, showcasing holographic text on it: 'Mullins Blacksmithing' "Fits, huh?" Markus said, leaning into my ear. It did. And it was one of the more clever ways I saw hidden businesses in the supernatural realm.

She shivered and looked away. As they turned down another street, the entire block was filled with blacksmiths. Everywhere flew anvils and hammers, and the ping of metal rang throughout the street, each blacksmith seeming to echo the other. There were also clay pits with large flames roasting slabs of red-hot metal, on which they were forging horseshoes, swords, and all sorts of metal work. Caitlin noticed the faces of children, black with soot, sitting by their father’s sides, watching them work. She felt badly that the children worked at such a young age. Caitlin looked everywhere for a sign of Scarlet, of her Dad, of any clue of why they were here—but she found none.

"We still have Draven's chains. The ones he broke." "Three of them," Sable said. "We forge better ones." Drift looked at Sable. "Not trade-weight. Something proper. Something built for what he is." He glanced at Nero. "There's a blacksmith at the south end of the settlement. Orren. He builds for the mountain hunters — heavier gauge than anything you'd find in market stock." He paused. "He can do it." Sable was quiet. "Sable," Drift said. "Think about what we're standing next to."

Intrigued by this mysterious girl with silver hair and ember eyes, he resolved to get to know her better. Offering her a ride was his way of extending an olive branch, an invitation into his world. At first, Aqua hesitated, politely declining his offer. But as the heavens opened up and rain began to pour down in torrents, her resolve softened, and she accepted. The moment she climbed into his truck, Damon couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. The old Chevy pickup may have seen better days, but to Damon, it was more than just a vehicle—it was a symbol of his roots, a connection to his past. He drove it with pride, a tribute to his uncle, who had passed away. His uncle was the only one

We stopped before a heavy door made of darkened metal, marked by old dents, soot stains, and deep scratches near the lock. “The Blacksmith lives here,” Darrow announced, his voice echoing with dark reverence. “He makes every weapon in Verisure.” Darrow knocked twice with his closed fist, hard enough for the metallic impact to vibrate through the door and echo down the corridor. A few seconds later, we heard the heavy sound of locks being moved on the other side. When the door finally opened, a wave of heat immediately escaped, striking my face after the street’s biting cold. The contrast was so abrupt that I felt my skin tighten.

Once we fought our way through the crowds and could see the blacksmith at work it was obvious he wasn’t Kizwat. The man had a bald head and a grey beard. In his fifties, at least. He did have a silver hammer in his hand which he was using to beat a sheet of metal on his anvil. I don’t know if the hammer was actually made of silver, but it was very shiny.

The woman instructed, whilst giving up a suggestive smile at her last sentence. Accashia breathed in deeply as if air was scarce. Then she lets out a loud — “EH?!” The man who was standing on the sidelines and was listening to them stopped wiping the wooden headstone for a while, then he looked at the couple and said, “We also give out couple rings.” He nonchalantly said. “I was a blacksmith before I retired and became a baker. The ring was made from the deep olden cave metals from Shaldan. But now that cave no longer exists since the great decimation from way back… There’s only a few rings like that. Would you like to buy it?”

Says the brown haired man who sat by the crimson haired woman. "Is this how she always is?" The taverner asked. The brown haired glanced at her on the counter, "I know it's embarrassing." Hmm. "Who are you guys anyway?" The taverner asked. "I'm Tim. Timmy Stormblood and this is Revnesolena", the brown haired begins. "The others there are..." The taverner cuts him off. "The blade rage?" Tim turns back to him, "You've heard of us?" The taverner smiles and says, "Everyone has heard of how you guys destroy Blackquire, by the way I'm William Henshore, I own the black sheep."

“What do you think the fairies will do with this place?” “A handful of our warriors are staying behind and will occupy it until a full treaty is reached. It will be open for business tomorrow.” That made me smile a little. It won’t be like it was, but it would live on. The blacksmith was a dragon and woodsmith a Basilisk so that wouldn’t open up until someone new took on the job. I assume our warriors would need both and it would eventually open again. “You should finish getting your family ready and head down to your pack. The camp is practically cleared out already.”

The facility’s operations were effectively dismantled, and the team’s success provided valuable insights into the Black Sun’s remaining network. Their next operation took them to a hidden warehouse in Southern Italy, where the Black Sun was believed to be stockpiling resources and weapons. The warehouse, located in a remote coastal area, was another critical node in their network. The team’s approach involved a combination of covert infiltration and direct assault. They used advanced equipment to bypass security systems and entered the warehouse under the cover of darkness. Inside, they found an extensive cache of weapons, dark artifacts, and supplies. The warehouse’s security was formidable