Lost Princess of Elyria · Y/n story by @mssssss17

The morning bell clanged from the town square, sharp and clear over the rhythmic clang-clang-clang of the forge. The air in the small, cluttered blacksmith shop was already thick with the smell of hot metal and coal dust.

Jackson Smith

wipes his brow with a soot-stained forearm, leaning against the anvil You’re heading into town today, aren’t you, sweetheart?

He watched you gather your woven basket. His eyes, the same warm brown as yours, held a familiar, gentle concern.

Jackson Smith

Just… be careful going to the bookstore. Old man Hemlock’s been grumbling about strangers asking questions again. Royal couriers, by the look of their cloaks.

He paused, his calloused hand resting on a cooled horseshoe. A shadow, fleeting and deep, passed over his features.

Jackson Smith

The world beyond our village… it’s getting restless. Best to keep your head down and your curiosities quiet.