"Curiosity is a double-edged sword, both beautiful, and deadly. There's no telling which side you'll get."
A night of innocent exploration turns lethal as Sorcha's sister is captured by human sailors. In her search, Sorcha rescues one of the humans...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The day Gendry left Tobho Mott's forge, he hadn't cried. He'd been too angry for tears. It wasn't a fit of anger that spit and hissed like a feral cat. It was a fury that sat silent and festered like a pot of scalding oil. For so long he wished he'd had the strength to yell and fight, to tell Tobho Mott just what he thought about his decision to cast Gendry aside like he did a hunk of bad metal. He'd stood there and listened to his mentor say that he'd sold him to the Night's Watch. Instead of pleading his case, Gendry had nodded solemnly and left to pack his meager belongings. The forge was the only true home that Gendry had ever known. There were times he could convince himself otherwise, that he could belong somewhere beyond the smoldering embers and melting steel. Yet, no matter how far he strayed, fate had always brought him back to where he belonged.
Gendry stared across the street to the open doors of the forge. He was struck with a peculiar fondness for the place he thought completely condemned in his mind. Heat wafted out onto the street, and if he squinted, he could see the ripples warping the air. Metal clanged within -- the swing of a hammer on the edge of a blade. Mott alone crafted within. Gendry always believed his banishment had been a fault of his shortcomings in the trade. That he would be replaced without a second thought. Now, he understood the truth.
Still, it was no easier to be back. Gendry was home, but he felt like a fraud. He'd burned every fond memory to ash in his mind, dragged them through the mud, and slashed them to ribbons with a dagger of his creation. A few villagers stared openly at him as they passed. He stuck out like a sore thumb. The way he was ogling the shop, they might've thought him a tourist if there were such a thing in Flea Bottom. Instead, he drew unwanted attention to himself. They may not be searching for Gendry Waters in King's Landing, but a suspicious character in the weeks leading up to the king's wedding would raise more alarms than he could afford. So without time to change his mind, Gendry crossed the street.
