Middle Earth: High King of The Avari

Two days had passed since Lossiriel left, her absence lingering in the quiet of her room. Aurion paced restlessly, her parting kiss still fresh in his mind, but so too was the gnawing itch of his purpose. The formula for Galvorn was still out there, waiting. He knew it was dangerous, especially with the poison still in his system, but the opportunity was too tempting to ignore.

"She'll be mad," he muttered to himself, tightening his grip on his hammer. "But she won't know."

Aurion had noticed something important: the north wing of Eöl's castle, where Lossiriel's chambers were located, was largely devoid of guards. Lossiriel hated their presence, and they only patrolled when she let them. It was the perfect time to explore.

Taking only his hammer and a small dagger, Aurion slipped out of the room late at night, when the halls were cloaked in shadow. His steps were soft, his breath steady, as he moved through the unfamiliar corridors.

The north wing was eerily quiet, illuminated only by the faint glow of moonlight streaming through narrow windows. He passed a few unremarkable spare rooms, their doors slightly ajar, revealing nothing but empty furniture and dust. Next was the kitchen, surprisingly large and well-stocked, though it bore the same austere design as the rest of the castle.

Aurion made mental notes as he moved, marking paths and potential hiding spots. The architecture of the castle was both mesmerizing and labyrinthine, its sharp edges and dark tones a testament to Eöl's reclusive and secretive nature.

The night wore on as he mapped out the entirety of the north wing, but his search for the forge—or any clues leading to it—yielded nothing. He sighed, frustrated but determined.

"Tomorrow," he whispered to himself, returning to Lossiriel's room as dawn approached. "I'll try the east and south wings. It has to be there somewhere."

Collapsing onto the bed, Aurion stared at the ceiling, his mind racing with thoughts of his discovery and the consequences of his actions.

Lossiriel's face flashed in his mind, her laugh, her smile, the way she had kissed his cheek before leaving. He pushed the thought away, focusing instead on his plan.

He'd find the Galvorn formula, no matter the risk. Lossiriel might not forgive him, but he told himself it didn't matter.

Or at least, that's what he wanted to believe.