The Hunt for Two Very Expensive Circles
The Catapult
They awkwardly approached the crime scene.
The catapult still stood where they’d abandoned it, slightly askew, rope frayed, looking smug.
Garruk kicked one of the supports.
Garruk:
“Confess.”
Kaer:
“It’s inanimate.”
Garruk:
“I still don’t trust it.”
They scoured the ground. Hay. Mud. A single offended chicken pecking at the dirt and glaring at Garruk.
Laz cupped his hands.
Laz:
“Garruk, apologise to the chicken.”
Garruk:
“I will do no such—”
The chicken attacked his boots.
Borin crawled in the mud, checking for glints of gold.
Borin:
“If I find ‘em underneath this fucking siege contraption I will melt it for scrap—”
Nothing.
Not a single hint of dwarven-forged ring.
The Goat
They found the goat.
It stared at them with hollow, knowing eyes.
Kaer:
“Do you… think it ate them?”
Garruk:
“It better not have. I’m not sticking my hand—”
Borin:
“No goat I ken chews through dwarven gold.”
Pancake appeared on its back, munching hay.
Pancake:
“He says you’re idiots.”
Laz:
“That tracks.”
They checked the goat’s pen, the posts, the bucket, the fence, the mud.
Nothing.
The Haystacks of Doom
Garruk dove into a haystack like a happy child.
Then got stuck.
Garruk (muffled):
“This is my tomb now.”
Kaer:
“You’re not dying in a haystack the morning of the wedding.”
Laz found half a shoe, three lost buttons, and one small, very offended hedgehog.
Still no rings.
Desperation Sets In
They tore apart the cart where Elaris had once almost lost his dignity during the stag. No rings.
They checked gutters. Roof tiles. The training yard. The inside of Borin’s beard.
Borin smacked his own chest.
Borin:
“I dinnae ken where they went—!”
At last, exhausted, they slumped into the quiet of Aurelthane’s secondary storage barn, chests heaving, hands bleeding slightly from wood and stone.
An awful, suffocating silence settled.
Kaer finally said it.
Kaer:
“…They’re gone.”
Borin’s shoulders sagged like someone had cut through his spine.
Borin:
“I failed him. I failed them. I’ll… reforge ‘em. A year late.”
Garruk dropped onto a crate, rubbing his face.
Garruk:
“We can’t tell Sereth. She’ll murder us. Fairly.”
Laz stared at his hands, then at Elaris.
Laz:
“We could… improvise? Ribbon rings? Ivy? Little braided rope thing—”
Pancake hopped onto a barrel.
Pancake:
“That’s stupid.”
Everyone looked up.
Pancake:
“They’re just circles, Shepherd. You’re the man who bent death and love into a lattice, and you’re crying over shiny loops you can’t find.”
Elaris looked wrecked.
But the little weasel’s words pierced anyway.
Pancake flicked his tail.
Pancake:
“If you can’t find the old circles… make better ones.”
Silence.
Then Elaris slowly stood.
The fear in his eyes didn’t vanish — but something slid into place behind it.
Resolve.
The Forge of a New Promise
The estate’s forge had been offered to Borin “for emergencies.”
This qualified.
Borin lit the coals with shaking hands.
Garruk and Kaer pumped the bellows.
Laz tidied the workbench in a frenzy just to do something.
Elaris rolled his sleeves up, stripped off his coat, and stepped into the heat beside Borin.
Borin blinked.
Borin:
“Ye… know this’ll no’ be the same, lad.”
Elaris:
“Good.”
Borin frowned.
Elaris looked him in the eye, voice steady now.
Elaris:
“I loved what you made. But those rings were forged before Northreach. Before Velmir. Before… everything we’ve survived.
If they’re gone? Then we make rings that know who we are now.”
Something in Borin’s chest unclenched.
He sniffed loudly and slapped Elaris on the shoulder.
Borin:
“…Aye. Right then. Let’s make somethin’ worthy o’ the Vorns.”
He turned, bellowing.
Borin:
“Right! I need metal, and no ordinary shite! Bring me somethin’ with meaning!”
What followed was less an orderly donation and more a chaotic offering:
- Kaer unclipped a polished steel plate from inside his gauntlet — his first commission after leaving the war.
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Kaer:
“This saved my life twice. Let it guard theirs instead.” - Garruk removed a small rune-stamped band from the haft of Faithbreaker.
Garruk:
“Borin hammered that on for me after our first fight. Said it’d remind me I don’t fight alone. Melt it.” - Laz tossed in a slim forged link of infernal-gold chain, once part of an old contract shackle.
Laz:
“Pretty sure that was supposed to bind my soul. I like the symbolism.” - Vex, when she burst in out of sheer nosiness, threw in a delicate slice of onyx-inlaid silver.
Vex:
“That came from one of Mother’s old “decorative collars.” I vote we turn her chains into your promise.” - Arden arrived with a small disc of radiant-tempered sunmetal — a scrap from her holy symbol’s original frame.
Arden:
“Saren’s light has watched you both grow. It should bless what you forge today.” - Elyra, dragged in under the excuse of “we need your opinion,” unclasped a small, worn, silver feather charm from her cloak.
Elyra (soft):
“This was Mam’s from when I was very little. I want it in there. So… there’s a part of her from before all this. From when I watched you two fall in love and didn’t have the words for it.”
Elaris almost broke then.
He hugged her quickly, fiercely, and gently pushed her back toward the door.
Elaris:
“Back with your mother. And don’t you dare tell her.”
Pancake jumped into the crucible rim, dropped in a single tiny, shimmering purple scale of something that absolutely did not obey known physics.
Pancake:
“Cosmic embellishment. You’re welcome.”
Borin stared at the concoction in the crucible.
Borin:
“…Right then. This’ll either be the greatest work I’ve ever done… or it’ll explode.”
Garruk grinned.
Garruk:
“Either way, memorable wedding.”
They worked.
Borin hammered. Elaris channeled delicate, steady lattice-warmth through his hands, whispering small protective sigils into the metal as it took shape.
Arden murmured quiet blessings under her breath, turning every flare of the forge into a halo.
Outside, the bells of the estate chimed the passing of hours.
Inside, sweat dripped, muscles burned, hearts pounded.
At last, on the anvil, two rings lay cooling on a bed of soft cloth:
- His: a band of darkened, subtle dwarf-steel with faint inlays of sunmetal, a barely visible lattice pattern etched along the inside. On the inner curve: a tiny, perfect S.
- Hers: a slimmer but sturdier band, woven metal like braided vines, flecks of infernal gold and onyx glinting subtly in the grooves. Inside, an E stylised as an arrow, and along the edges — if you tilted it just so — the faintest suggestion of interlocking hearts and a circle, like a very tiny, very private lattice.
When Elaris touched them, they both gave off the faintest, comforting hum — not of binding or control, but of resonance.
Not Vaelith’s lattice.
His.
Theirs.
Borin exhaled a shuddering breath.
Borin:
“I dinnae say this lightly, lad… but these are the finest I’ve ever made.”
Elaris swallowed hard.
Elaris:
“They’re not just from me and Sereth now.”
He looked at each of them: Garruk, Kaer, Laz, Vex, Arden, Elyra (peeking through the door), and even Pancake.
Elaris:
“They’re from all of us.”
Garruk wiped at his eye, very aggressively.
Garruk:
“Anyone says I cried, I throw ‘em over the wall.”
- The Plan
Laz carefully placed the rings into a new velvet-lined box.
Kaer closed it, solemn as a knight guarding a crown.
Kaer:
“These go straight to the ceremony table.
No detours. No catapults. No goats.”
Garruk:
“Agreed. No livestock near the jewellery.”
Borin tucked the box to his chest like contraband.
Borin:
“I’ll guard them with ma life this time. An’ if the old set ever turns up, we’ll melt ‘em into a charm or anklet or somethin’ for Sereth.”
Vex smirked.
Vex:
“Or earrings. You know she’d rock ‘wedding disaster earrings’.”
Pancake yawned.
Pancake:
“Good. Crisis over. Someone feed me cake.”
Elaris leaned back against the forge wall, suddenly very, very tired.
But his heart was lighter.
He looked down at his soot-stained hands, then at the box.
Then he thought of Sereth, in her dress he hadn’t seen yet, and felt that same quiet spark beneath his sternum:
Soon.
Garruk clapped him on the shoulder so hard he nearly headbutted the wall.
Garruk:
“Alright, Shepherd. Time to get you dressed. Try not to pass out when you see her.”
Laz grinned.
Laz:
“And maybe don’t mention yet that the original rings are probably in orbit.”
Kaer:
“We tell that story after the ceremony. When she’s legally required to love you.”
Elaris huffed a laugh despite himself.
Elaris:
“Alright. Let’s get me to the altar before anything else explodes.”
They filed out of the forge, leaving behind the dying glow of coals and the echo of hammer-strikes.
On the bench, the new rings gleamed softly in their box — forged from steel, light, infernal gold, old love, new hope…
…and just a little bit of cosmic nonsense.
The kind of rings that could never have existed before everything they’d lived through.
Not replacements.
An upgrade.
A new promise.
And outside, in another wing, Sereth, Vorn-to-be admired herself in the mirror — completely unaware that the man waiting for her was about to slide onto her finger a ring made from everyone who loved them, and everything they’d survived, and the future they refused to surrender.
THE GROOM’S FINAL PREPARATIONS
Calm, Elegance, Brotherhood… and a Cosmic Ferret in a Top Hat
The corridors of Aurelthane’s estate were a hum of muted activity — servants whispering, bards tuning lutes, flowers arriving in enchanted crates.
But in the east wing, the men of the Crimson Dice moved with a rare, reverent focus.
No shouting.
No fighting.
No livestock.
Not even Vex’s echoing cackle from the bridal wing.
This was Elaris’s moment.
Sereth’s moment.
And everyone felt it.
? I. THE GROOM RETURNS — AND FOR ONCE, NO CHAOS
The boys slipped inside the guest chamber like a guilty procession returning from a heist.
But this time, no one tripped.
No one crashed into furniture.
Nobody set anything on fire.
Elaris closed the door behind them, back pressed to the wood for a long, trembling exhale.
The others watched him in a respectful silence rarely seen among the group.
Kaer stepped forward.
Kaer:
“You good?”
Elaris let out a helpless laugh that cracked straight down the middle.
Elaris:
“Absolutely not.”
Kaer smirked softly, the faintest warmth breaking through his usual steel exterior.
Kaer:
“Good. Means it matters.”
? II. A PRIVATE MOMENT — A BEST MAN EMERGES
Kaer moved with surprising gentleness, taking Elaris by the shoulders and turning him toward the mirror.
Elaris stood stiffly, half in shock that this day had actually arrived.
Half in awe.
Half in terror.
(He was allowed three halves. It was his wedding day.)
Kaer tugged lightly at the lapels of Elaris’s enchanted black-and-gold wedding jacket, smoothing the fabric, adjusting the fall of the sleeves, making sure everything sat perfectly over the white shirt and suspenders beneath.
Then Kaer rested his hands on Elaris’s shoulders and met his eyes through the reflection.
And when he spoke —
it wasn’t the stoic warrior,
nor the man who fought frost giants barehanded,
nor the man who never cracked more than two facial expressions per week.
It was simply Kaer,
a man speaking to another man he cared for deeply.
Kaer (quiet, steady):
“Listen.
This is your moment.
We all know it.
We all feel it.
And we will make sure nothing ruins it.
Not queens.
Not mirror witches.
Not monsters.
Not fate.
Today is yours —
hers —
and no force in any realm touches it.”
Elaris swallowed thickly, eyes burning.
Elaris:
“…I’m getting married.”
Kaer straightened both their postures like a drill sergeant preparing a soldier for coronation.
Kaer:
“You’re damn right you are.”
? III. CHECKS — AND DOUBLE CHECKS — AND TRIPLE CHECKS
The remaining boys snapped into professional mode:
- Garruk ensured the new rings were perfectly positioned in the velvet box
(and threatened to body-slam anyone who so much as breathed near them). - Laz inspected the vows so thoroughly Elaris snatched them away to stop him from reading ahead.
- Borin, soot still on his cheek, polished Elaris’s boots while whispering
“ye’ll look perfect, lad”
like a proud dwarven uncle. - Arden arrived briefly to bless Elaris with Saren’s light, tapping her fingers over his heart and saying,
“For peace. And for courage.”
Elaris looked around the room.
All of them dressed in immaculate formalwear.
All of them present.
All of them ready.
This time, for the first time all morning, Elaris smiled — a soft, disbelieving, overjoyed thing.
? IV. THE ROOM GOES SILENT
A faint shhhffft of fabric sounded behind them.
Then the door creaked.
The air shifted.
Every head turned…
And the room collectively gasped.
? V. THE COSMIC FERRET MAKES HIS ENTRANCE
Pancake stepped into the room.
Not waddled.
Not scampered.
Stepped.
Majestic.
Commanding.
A being born for pageantry.
He wore a tailored black and gold suit that put most nobles to shame:
- a double-breasted gold-embroidered vest
- a perfectly proportioned bowtie
- a sweeping black coat with gilt trimming
- polished shoes on tiny ferret feet
- and atop his purple head…
…a top hat.
Perfectly balanced.
Effortlessly regal.
He held an ornate gold-capped cane with one paw as if he were a cosmic duke attending a planar coronation.
The entire room froze.
Kaer, who had seen horrors beyond comprehension, whispered:
Kaer:
“…by the gods.”
Garruk clutched his chest.
Borin dropped his polishing cloth.
Laz teared up.
Arden whispered a prayer without meaning to.
Elaris stared at Pancake for a full five seconds.
Then Pancake cleared his throat.
A tiny, elegant sound.
Pancake:
“Gentlemen.”
He adjusted his lapels with one paw.
Pancake:
“Let us…
do this.”
Elaris blinked, overwhelmed.
Elaris:
“Are you—are you wearing a—”
Pancake tapped his cane once on the floor.
Pancake:
“Do you wish to question my commitment to this aesthetic?”
Elaris shook his head rapidly.
Elaris:
“No. No, absolutely not.”
Pancake nodded curtly.
Pancake:
“Good.”
The ferret strode past them with all the gravitas of a divine emissary.
If the gods themselves had descended to escort the groom, they would have paled beside him.
? VI. THE FINAL MOMENT BEFORE THE MOMENT
Elaris turned to his friends.
His brothers.
His family.
Elaris:
“…Thank you. All of you.”
Kaer clapped him on the back.
Kaer:
“You ready now?”
Elaris took a deep breath.
And for the first time that morning…
Elaris:
“Yes.”
Pancake hopped onto the table, pointed his cane dramatically toward the door.
Pancake:
“Forward, Shepherd.
Your bride awaits.”
The Dice straightened in unison.
A line of heroes, misfits, and one impeccably dressed cosmic ferret.
The doors opened.
And they stepped out together —
toward the ceremony,
toward Sereth,
toward the moment everything changes