The loud bell of the factory rang before the sun had even risen.
The sharp metallic sound echoed through the long dormitory where dozens of workers slept on narrow wooden beds.
Isla Whitmore slowly opened her eyes.
For a moment she was confused. The room was dark, cold, and filled with the quiet breathing of tired workers.
Then she remembered.
She was no longer in Rivermoor.
She was in Ironvale City.
And today would be her first day working in the factory.
"Wake up," whispered Lena Carter, gently shaking her shoulder.
"They will punish us if we're late."
Isla quickly sat up. Around them, the other workers were already rising from their beds. No one spoke much. Their faces were pale and exhausted.
A woman wearing a dark uniform entered the room.
Her name was Mrs. Clara Danton, the dormitory supervisor.
"You have five minutes," she said coldly. "Then everyone must report to the main floor."
The workers hurried to dress.
Isla followed Lena through a long hallway that smelled of dust and oil. Soon they reached the enormous factory hall.
The noise was overwhelming.
Hundreds of machines spun endlessly, producing long threads of fabric.
Metal gears turned loudly. Steam pipes hissed. The air was thick with cotton dust.
Isla covered her ears for a moment.
"How can anyone work in this noise?" she asked.
"You get used to it," Lena replied quietly.
A tall man suddenly appeared beside them.
It was Victor Grayson, the factory manager.
His sharp eyes studied the new workers carefully.
"You two," he said, pointing at Isla and Lena.
"Follow me."
They quickly obeyed.
Victor led them toward a long row of spinning machines.
"These machines produce cotton thread," he explained in a cold voice.
"Your job is simple. Watch the threads. If they break, you tie them again. If the machine stops, you call a supervisor."
He leaned closer.
"But if you damage the machines… or slow production…"
His voice lowered.
"You will regret it."
Isla nodded nervously.
"Yes, sir."
Victor turned and walked away without another word.
Hours passed slowly.
The machines never stopped.
Isla's hands moved constantly, tying broken threads and adjusting the spinning wheels.
Her fingers soon became sore.
The cotton dust filled her lungs and made her cough.
Around her, dozens of workers worked silently like shadows.
Some were children.
Some were older men and women.
All of them looked tired.
During a short break, Isla sat beside Lena on the cold stone floor.
"My hands hurt," Isla whispered.
"They always do at the beginning," Lena said.
"After a while, you stop feeling them."
Isla looked around the factory hall.
"Do people ever leave this place?" she asked quietly.
Lena hesitated before answering.
"Some do," she said.
"But most stay."
"Why?"
"Because they have nowhere else to go."
Later that evening, the work bell finally rang again.
The workers slowly returned to the dormitory.
Isla walked beside Lena through the dim streets of the factory district.
The sky above Ironvale City was dark, filled with smoke from the factories.
Isla looked up at the stars that barely shone through the grey clouds.
Somewhere beyond those clouds…
Beyond the mountains…
Beyond the long roads…
Was Rivermoor.
And somewhere in that village was Ethan Hale.
She closed her eyes for a moment.
"I hope you're safe," she whispered softly.
At that very moment, far away from Ironvale, Ethan stood at the edge of the village road.
A small travel bag hung from his shoulder.
His brother Daniel stood beside him.
"Are you sure about this?" Daniel asked.
Ethan nodded.
"I have to find her."
Daniel sighed but placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Then at least take this."
He handed Ethan a small knife and a few coins.
"For the road."
Ethan smiled faintly.
"Thank you."
He looked once more at the village behind him.
Then he turned toward the long road ahead.
The road that would lead him through unknown lands…
Through danger…
Through war…
And eventually…
To Ironvale City.