The Road to Ironmaw

The wooden planks groaned as two new figures climbed aboard via rope ladder.

Lis hopped up first, eyes sparkling with determination, followed by Bromor, axe already in hand.

“All good, they’re here!” Caeriel called without turning.

Lis peeked around, a little pout on her face. “Aw… the fight’s already over? I wanted to see some action…”

Meanwhile, Caeriel tried to take it all in, forcing herself to process the chaos around her.

“…So that wasn’t even my father last night,” Caeriel repeated sharply. “Just some gangster boss after Marcus… trying to shake down the royal family for gold?”

“Something like that!” Gus grinned.

“Oh, you forgot to mention I’m a Beerbender now!” Marcus cut in, puffing his chest proudly. “If there’s beer around, I can bend it without my staff!”

“Ah yeah,” Gus said flatly. “Marcus here’s a Beerbender now.”

Lis’s eyes lit up. “Beerbender… remarkable! I need to document this phenomenon later.”

Bromor crossed his arms with a low grumble. “Hmph. Neat trick, lad. But what about whiskey?”

Caeriel sighed, rubbing her temples. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to track you down? When you didn’t return, I was worried…” She paused, cleared her throat, and quickly corrected herself. “…we were worried.”

Her gaze swept across the chaotic deck, the shattered barrels, the unconscious thugs.

“All right. Let’s get out of here before more trouble shows up.”

She was about to turn away when she felt a stare on her.

Her father still stood there, hands half-raised as if to speak, but no words came.

Caeriel avoided his eyes.

Gus looked between them, noticing how her father couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

So he spoke instead.

“I never knew my father.”

Caeriel froze, surprised, and slowly turned.

Gus drew a deep breath. His voice was unusually serious, rougher than usual.

“…I was an only child, y’know. Just me and my mom. And believe me, raising a loudmouth brat like me wasn’t easy. I screwed around, pissed off teachers, ditched school, and still… she always gave me everything. She showed me what it means when someone loves you, no matter how bad you screw up.”

He glanced down at his demon arm, fist clenching.

“And you know what the hardest part was? Watching her grind herself down. Always working, always for me, and I could never really give anything back. And then… one day she was just gone. Too soon. Way too soon.”

He looked up, eyes blazing serious now.

“Since then, I’ve had no one. No parents, no family. Just Marcus. And you guys.”

Silence fell. Only the waves broke the air.

Finally, Gus nodded toward Caeriel’s father.

“What I’m saying is: it’s not just kids who screw up. Our folks do too. Sometimes big time. But if you’ve still got the chance to talk to them… you should take it. Because someday… that chance won’t be there anymore.”

The words hung heavy in the air.

Caeriel stood still, lips slightly parted, her eyes shimmering.

She stared at Gus as if she’d never expected words like that from him.

Then her gaze cooled, and she turned to her father.

“…If you’ve got something to say, say it now.”

Her father nodded, a trembling smile wet with tears.

“Caeriel… daughter. I know what I’ve done is unforgivable…”

His voice cracked as he spoke.

No one needed to hear every word to understand. His tears and pain said enough.

Caeriel remained still, her face unreadable, while he spoke to her for minutes on end.

At last, he fell silent.

The two of them looked at each other.

For a moment, there was something soft in her eyes, quickly smothered.

“…I can’t forgive what you did,” she said coldly. “But if you insist on telling brother the same, I won’t stop you. Just know, I’ll be there as well. Only to make sure he’s safe.”

For a moment he seemed speechless, then nodded vigorously, eyes glistening with tears.

“Thank you, Caeriel.”

But she had already turned away.

They slipped down the gangplank onto the harbor pier, the smell of salt and tar heavy in the air. 

Shouts echoed behind them, guards were already rushing toward the ship.

“Not in the mood for an interrogation,” Caeriel said flatly. “Come on. Let’s go.”

She was already several steps ahead when her father called softly after Gus.

“Wait.”

He pressed something into Gus’s hand, leaned close, and whispered into his ear.

Gus nodded silently, and before Caeriel could turn, her father had already vanished from sight.

“What was that?” she asked sharply, narrowing her eyes. “What did he say to you?”

He just winked, hands sliding into his pockets. “Ah, nothing important. Just a few words between men…”

Caeriel frowned, but before she could push further, Gus had already strode on ahead.

---

They tramped back through the narrow alleys from the harbor until they reached their ride among the palms at the edge of the beach.

The old Golf sat crooked at the roadside. Gus patted the hood affectionately, like greeting an old friend.

Then they climbed in.

Only Caeriel lingered a moment longer, turning once toward the sea where the morning sun blazed over the glittering waves.

“C’mon, Car’, or we’ll hit rush hour. No way I’m getting stuck in traffic!” Gus called.

“…Coming,” she said softly, then slid inside.

Gus turned the key. The engine coughed to life with a rattling growl, and the Golf rolled forward.

“Next stop: Ironmaw!” Marcus declared solemnly, fist out the window.

“…What’s 'rush hour'?” Lis asked curiously.

Marcus grinned wide. “A trial of willpower that’s already torn entire families apart!”

Lis’s eyes sparkled. She whipped out her notebook. “Wow, fascinating! Tell me more!”

Marcus cleared his throat and launched into an overly dramatic explanation, rambling nonsense with absolute conviction.

Meanwhile the old Golf rumbled along the coastal road, palms and the distant roar of the sea sliding past the fogged-up windows.

And soon, Tiraloa was behind them.

---

After a while on the street, the car grew quiet.

Lis had slumped on the backseat, still clutching a crumpled paper amulet and other souvenirs.

Marcus leaned his head against the window, mumbling half-asleep.

Bromor snored like a jackhammer, sometimes louder than the engine.

Caeriel sat in silence, sunglasses hiding her eyes.

Only Gus kept his gaze on the road.

Again and again, his eyes flicked to the little red needle creeping stubbornly toward E.

Finally, he cleared his throat.

“Uh… guys?”

No response. 

He raised his voice.

“HEY! Guys!"

"What!?", Caeriel snapped.

"Well, I think we’re running out of gas soon…”

Bromor grunted groggily. 

“How soon?”

Right then, the Golf sputtered, coughed like a dying mule, and wheezed to a stop at the roadside.

A brief, reverent silence followed.

Then Gus lifted his hands from the wheel, clicked his tongue, and said dryly:

“…Now.”

---

Once again, they all stood around the hood, Lis’s map spread out.

“Soooo…” the hobbit began, “the Lerantor Mountains and the entrance to the Deep Tunnel toward Ironmaw are here!” Her finger tapped the map. “And we are here!” Her finger slid lower.

“And where’s here?” Marcus asked.

“Middle of nowhere. Just look around, lad!” Bromor grumbled.

Crickets chirped.

A tumbleweed skittered past.

Around them stretched nothing but dusty fields and parched steppe, the sun beating down mercilessly.

In both directions, not a shred of civilization, only the mountains in the distance.

“So now what?” Caeriel asked flatly.

“Well… on foot it’s only a day’s march to Ironmaw…” Bromor went on. “…we could just grab our stuff, leave the machine here and...”

“No way!” Gus cut him off. “I’m not leaving my Golf here to get chewed up by some gremlin critters, or whatever the fuck’s crawling around this damned wasteland!”

“Dude, what else do you suggest? You gonna push it?” Marcus shot back.

Gus raised a brow, as if Marcus had just given him an idea.

His eyes dropped to his demon arm and he clenched his fist.

---

Minutes later, the Golf rolled down the dusty road again.

Marcus sat at the wheel, grinning wide. “Haha! Finally I get to drive!”

“You’re not driving, you’re steering!” Gus wheezed from behind, face red as he shoved the car forward. His demon arm glowed hot, pushing with raw force.

“Ha, I could get used to traveling like this!” Caeriel chuckled from the passenger seat.

From behind came a stream of curses. “You could at least help! I’m sweating my ass off here, even with demonic powers!”

A chorus of excuses answered.

“My arms are too short,” Lis said.

“I have to steer!” Marcus shouted.

“My back hurts,” Bromor grumbled.

“…Not a chance in hell,” Caeriel said honestly.

“Fantastic,” Gus groaned as the car bumped along. “…Some heroes you are. Just leaving your teammate to sweat his soul out back here, huh?!”

The Golf rattled onward, until Marcus spotted something in the rearview mirror.

“Yo! Big dust cloud behind us!”

Caeriel straightened instantly, bow ready. “…Bandits?”

“More likely a caravan,” Bromor muttered. “Plenty of those around here.”

Lis immediately perked up, head out the window, eyes glowing.

“A CARAVAN!? Fantastic! There’s no better source of information! I can’t wait to hear their stories!”

Gus paused his pushing, wiped sweat and dust from his forehead, and glanced at the steadily approaching cloud.

“…whoever they are, I hope they know how to tow.”