The Dragon Emperor of Another World: Awakening of a Legend

CHAPTER 5: Master Eileen

After days of arduous travel and close calls, Ethan Lockwood and Celestia Draconyx emerged from the wilds to behold the sprawling wonder of Dasi. They stood atop a rise overlooking the city as the sun dipped low, painting the sky in hues of orange and violet. What lay before them was a metropolis of invention and magic that made Feya Town look like a roadside hamlet.

Ethan felt a different kind of tension coiling in his gut as they descended toward the main gates of Dasi—a tension not born of immediate danger, but of anticipation. In this city lived the one person who might turn the tide in their favor.

Their mission was clear: seek out the legendary forge-mage Eileen, the woman whose work blurred the boundary between enchantment and engineering. Rumors described marvels of her creation—living armor, self-repairing shields, even tales that she could reforge reality itself, given the right materials.

“She really lives here?” Celestia asked under her breath as they walked down an avenue flanked by towering columns etched with arcane wards. She tried to sound unimpressed, but her eyes were wide, reflecting the neon-blue glow of magical street lamps igniting as dusk fell.

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Ethan replied, equally captivated by their surroundings. Polished cobblestones beneath their feet thrummed with a faint current of magic, likely powering the various contraptions around them. “Apparently, Eileen once made a shield that can block a dragon’s fire completely… and another gadget that explodes if the wrong person touches it.”

“Sounds trustworthy,” Celestia muttered, though a hint of a smile played on her lips. Her tail flicked with something like excitement.

The Town of Dasi was unlike anywhere Ethan had ever been. Massive golems of brass and crystal trundled along broad streets, hauling metal crates on rails of pure light. Market stalls thrummed with activity as artificers peddled enchanted gadgets and elemental jewelers showed off wares that glowed from within. Overhead, crystalline birds—mechanical familiars powered by magic—flitted between rooftops that were lined with conduits sparking with electric-blue mana. The whole city was a symphony of hammering metal, crackling energy, and the chatter of brilliant minds at work.

With some directions from a friendly (if eccentric) gnome tinkerer, Ethan and Celestia navigated through the industrial district toward the eastern quarter where Eileen’s workshop was said to stand. The buildings here were sturdier, made of blackstone reinforced with iron and inscribed with protective sigils to contain any experimental mishaps.

Finally, they found it: an imposing forge complex that took up the better part of a city block. Its walls were obsidian-black and smooth, and it had great chimney-stacks belching plumes of purple-tinged smoke. Two gargoyle statues flanked the entrance, their stone eyes flickering as if alive. A gentle hum permeated the air—an arcane pulse barrier, faintly visible as a distortion around the building, likely to keep uninvited guests or explosions in check.

“This has to be the place,” Ethan said. His skin tingled just standing near the powerful wards.

Celestia cracked her knuckles. “Let’s hope she’s home.”

They pushed open the heavy bronze doors and entered the forge. At once, a wave of heat rolled over them, tinged with the scent of molten metal and ozone. The interior was cavernous—part workshop, part laboratory. Runes glowed on every surface, tools hovered in the air awaiting command, and half-finished inventions cluttered tables alongside crystals and metal scraps.

CLANG… CLANG… CLANG. The rhythmic hammering came from the center of the chamber. There, bathed in the orange light of an open furnace, stood a lone figure working at an anvil.

Eileen was nothing like Ethan had pictured and yet exactly as formidable. She was tall and fit, her sleeveless leather smith’s tunic showing muscled arms that glimmered with sweat and residual magic. Coppery hair was tied back in a messy braid, and a pair of goggles with multiple lenses perched atop her head. A blacksmith’s hammer in her hand glowed with runes as it struck a piece of heated metal, each impact ringing with a tone of raw power.

“Hello?” Ethan called out, cautiously stepping forward over a tangle of tubing on the floor.

Eileen didn’t look up immediately, but something else did—a small clockwork owl perched on a rafters ledge swiveled its head toward the newcomers and let out a mechanical hoot.

“Busy!” Eileen barked, still hammering. “Unless the city’s burning down, take a flyer and come back tomorrow!”

Celestia bristled, not accustomed to being dismissed so offhandedly. “We have urgent business,” she called back, voice firm.

At that, Eileen paused mid-swing. Slowly, she turned to face them, lowering the red-hot metal ingot into a quenching bath with a dramatic hiss of steam. Her eyes, an unusual shade of amber, flicked over Ethan and Celestia appraisingly. He saw the moment her gaze landed on the ring on his finger—because the amethyst stone set in it glowed in resonance with the forge’s magic. She then noted the longsword on his back, and the distinctive midnight-blue armor.

“Void-cleaving essence… and amethyst resonance,” she murmured. In two strides, she closed the distance, standing before them with an intensity that made Ethan reflexively step back. She was nearly as tall as him, and the confidence radiating from her was palpable.

“Did the gods send you to ruin my peace?” Eileen asked, though a faint smirk tugged at her lips.

Ethan found himself grinning despite the tension. “Not intentionally. But I’ve been known to be a bit of a trouble magnet.”

Celestia cleared her throat, clearly unamused by the banter. She subtly moved in between Ethan and Eileen, her body language protective. “Keep your eyes on the artifacts, craftswoman, not on him.”

Eileen arched a brow, then laughed—a warm, surprisingly musical sound. “A protective partner? How intriguing.”

“More like territorial bodyguard,” Ethan interjected lightly, which earned him a sharp jab in the ribs from Celestia’s elbow.

He coughed. “What my friend means is we’re here for your expertise. I’m Ethan, and this is Celestia. We’ve come a long way to find you, Master Eileen.”

Eileen tilted her head, and for a moment, recognition sparked. “Ethan… Lockwood, isn’t it? News from Feya travels fast even here. Word is a newcomer gave the arena quite a show.” She pointed at a bulletin board near the entrance where, indeed, a hastily written news sheet was tacked, mentioning the “Mysterious Champion of Feya.”

Ethan exchanged a surprised look with Celestia. It hadn’t occurred to him that his actions might precede him like this.

“Well, Champion, consider me curious. What is it you want that’s worth crossing the Amber Sands and braving my doorstep?” Eileen asked, crossing her arms.

Ethan took a deep breath and held out the leather pouch. “To put it simply: I want you to make this better. Stronger. To integrate it with my gear.” He held up his hand with the amethyst ring and gestured to the sword on his back. “These all came as part of a set—an incredible set. But I’m not using them to their full potential. And truth be told, we’re being hunted. I need every edge I can get.”

Eileen’s eyes glinted as she listened. She took the pouch from him and turned it over in her hand. With a muttered word, she peered at it with one of the special lenses from her goggles. “Dimensional storage, about four cubic meters of space, basic defensive enchantment—ah, that explains your little protective bubble back there. Not bad work, but nothing extraordinary.” She looked at the ring next, not touching, just observing its aura. “This ring though… That’s a piece of an Arcane Godslayer set, isn’t it?”

Ethan nodded. “The Amethyst Spirit Ring.”

“And the sword?” she prompted.

He drew it carefully, the long blade whispering from its sheath. “Void-Cleaving Blade.”

Eileen’s lips parted in a genuine grin. “Oh, it has been a while since I’ve seen toys of this caliber.” She seemed delighted, which Ethan took as a good sign.

Celestia, ever focused, brought the conversation back. “Can you do what he’s asking? Improve the pouch, make it work in unison with his other gear? Yes or no?”

Eileen tossed her braid over her shoulder and walked to a massive worktable engraved with swirling runes. “Of course I can. But it won’t be simple, and it won’t be free.”

Ethan followed, and Celestia stayed glued to his side. On the table, Eileen waved a hand and projected an intricate diagram of Ethan’s equipment in mid-air—holographic outlines of the pouch, ring, sword, and even his armor, all connected by lines and symbols.

“I can re-forge your dimensional pouch and integrate it with your other gear,” Eileen explained, tracing glowing lines between the floating items. “Think of it as creating a synchronized system. Your ring, your sword, the pouch, even your armor—working in concert. Faster weapon swaps, automated defenses, instantaneous gear summons… essentially, your thoughts and reflexes would interface with your equipment.”

Ethan and Celestia exchanged astonished looks. That sounded exactly like what they needed—and more.

“But,” Eileen continued, snapping her fingers to collapse the diagram, “to do this, I need more than just your permission. I need materials. Rare ones. And a lot of them. You’re asking me to essentially push these artifacts beyond their intended function, and that means reengineering them on a fundamental level.”

She reached into a drawer and pulled out a large parchment, then began sketching notes at a speed that made Ethan’s head spin. Runes, symbols, and ingredient names flowed from her quill.

Celestia peered at the script, eyes narrowing. “What materials are we talking about? Dragon scales? Phoenix feathers? Because I might have a line on—”

Eileen shook her head. “Nothing so mundane.” She tapped the quill against the parchment and then looked up at them, her expression all business. “I’ll need three key components, none of which can be bought in a market. They have to be acquired the hard way.”

She flipped the parchment towards them. The page was now sectioned into three parts, each with a name and a rough sketch:

Star Metal Shards – Rare meteorite fragments that resonate with Void-element essence. Location: the crater fields of Norvahn, far to the north. Currently overrun by sandstalker wyrms that nest around the meteor fragments.

Night-Lily Petals – Lunar-reactive flowers found only in the highest ruins of the Skyreach Mountains. The petals, when distilled into ink, can inscribe ethereal runes that ‘flex’ between dimensions. Location: ancient altars in the Skyreach peaks, guarded by who-knows-what after centuries of abandonment.

Thunder Drake Whiskers – The long, silvery filament whiskers from an elder Thunder Drake. They conduct magical energy like nothing else, perfect for channeling power through the upgraded system. Location: the storm-wracked canyons of Arask in the east, where adult storm drakes make their lairs amid perpetual lightning.

Celestia let out a low whistle as she and Ethan scanned the list. “Simple,” she said with dry sarcasm. “Only requires surviving a monster-infested crater, raiding a cursed mountain ruin, and plucking hairs from the face of a lightning dragon. Easy peasy.”

“Exactly,” Eileen replied with a wink, matching Celestia’s sarcasm with deadpan of her own. “No big deal, right?”

Ethan stepped forward, energized by the challenge rather than deterred. “If that’s what it takes, we’ll do it. But when we bring these back… what’s the guarantee this upgrade will be worth it?”

Eileen’s grin returned, full force. “Oh, it’ll be worth it. You bring me all that, and I won’t just make your pouch better—I’ll reforge all of it.” She pointed her quill at his chest, sword, and ring in turn. “I’ll weave a system so responsive it’ll feel like your gear is an extension of your body. Draw a blade mid-dodge? It’ll appear in your hand before you finish the thought. Sense an ambush? The shield will deploy before your heart can skip a beat. And more.”

Ethan could hardly believe what he was hearing. The prospect of that level of power—and the chance to never be caught helpless again—was irresistible. He looked at Celestia; she was studying Eileen with a new respect in her eyes.

He extended his hand to Eileen. “We have a deal. I’m in.”

Eileen clasped his forearm in a firm shake, sealing the pact. There was a spark—literally, a tiny jolt of static magic at the touch. “Good. And don’t worry, I’ve never had a client fail to return… mostly because I vet who’s capable, and you two seem scrappy enough.”

Celestia crossed her arms. “We appreciate the vote of confidence,” she said wryly. “Any tips on how to handle these locations? You seem informed.”

Eileen began gathering a few items—maps, empty vials, odd instruments—and stuffing them into a satchel. “Oh, I’m more than just informed. I plan to give you every possible advantage.”

Over the next few hours, the forge echoed not with hammer blows, but with strategy talk. Eileen unrolled ancient maps across her worktable: one of the Norvahn Crater Fields, marked with X’s where meteor shards were likely to be found; another of the Skyreach Mountains, noting the ruins where Night-Lilies were said to bloom under full moons; and a third of Arask’s Storm Canyons, scrawled with warning symbols about drakes and constant tempests.

She provided them with specialized containers: a reinforced metal canister to safely store volatile Star Metal shards, a humidity and pressure-controlled case for the delicate Night-Lily Petals, and an enchanted silver tube that could hold and preserve Thunder Drake whiskers without letting their charge dissipate.

Celestia committed every detail to memory. She was clearly in her element, planning an expedition. Ethan asked questions here and there, but mostly he was marveling at how quickly their fortune seemed to be changing. A day ago, they were wandering, unsure what to do next. Now they had a clear path and the promise of power at the end of it.

“Remember,” Eileen said, as they wrapped up, “the materials themselves are half the battle. How you gather them matters—I need them intact and potent. Don’t drop the Star Metal into any old bag; keep it in this container so it doesn’t destabilize. Don’t crush the flowers; pluck them gently at midnight when they’re most vibrant. And for the love of all that’s holy, try not to fry yourselves getting those whiskers. Immobilize the drake or, I don’t know, find one that’s sleeping and very carefully… well, you’ll figure it out.”

Ethan chuckled nervously. “No problem. Just yanking whiskers from a sleeping dragon, what could go wrong?”

Celestia nudged him. “We’ll handle it.”

Eileen escorted them to the balcony atop her workshop when all was said and done. Night had fallen fully, and Dasi glistened below with its myriad lights and enchanted glow.

Under the blanket of stars, with a gentle breeze cooling their faces, Celestia asked quietly, “Why are you helping us, Eileen? Really? You don’t even know us.”

Eileen leaned on the balcony railing, looking out at her city. “Call it professional curiosity. The things you carry—the potential I see—it’s irresistible. And besides…” She glanced at Ethan with a sly smile.

“Whatever the reason,” Ethan said earnestly, “thank you. We won’t let you down.”

Eileen gave a casual wave of her hand, as if brushing off the gratitude. “See that you don’t. I have a feeling about you two. Either you’ll come back with everything I need, or… well, or you won’t come back. And frankly, I’d rather get my hands on those materials than not.”

Celestia smirked. “We’re rather motivated to return, I assure you.”

A moment of mutual understanding passed among the three of them. In this short time, a bond of cooperation—maybe even budding friendship—had formed.

It was time to move. Ethan secured the map scrolls in his pack, Celestia double-checked the straps on her gear, and Eileen… Eileen simply watched them with an almost wistful expression.

They bid their goodnights and thank-yous, and Eileen saw them off with a final piece of advice: “Stay smart. Stay alive. I want to see you back here in one piece.”

Stepping out into the night of Dasi, Ethan and Celestia felt a renewed sense of purpose. The road ahead would be perilous, but they weren’t stumbling in the dark anymore.

As they walked away from the forge, Celestia asked quietly, “Do you trust her?”

Ethan considered the question. Eileen was eccentric, undoubtedly dangerous in her own right, and had her own motivations. But she hadn’t lied to them, and her excitement at the project was genuine. “I trust what she wants to build,” he answered. “And if she’s right… we’ll need it for whatever comes next.”

Celestia nodded.

Behind them, Eileen stood on her balcony, watching the horizon with a faint smile.

“They’ll bring the materials,” she murmured to herself, a confident spark in her amber eyes. “And I’ll give them something the world has never seen.”