A line had formed, and Cane moved efficiently through it, upgrading each of Gryphon Company's Interwoven Adamantium Frost robes. With each tap of Blue, his rune tool, a pulse of mythic power surged outward—echoed by the haunting cry of an Ice Gryphon. The shimmering apparition of the beast unfurled above the rune-marked robes before fading into cold mist.
Nearby, Labyrinth sat chatting with Sofie and Mira while Cane worked. Across the plaza, Fergis mingled with other members of Gryphon Company.
"Even the fire users?" he asked, eyebrows raised.
Apparently, the Frost rune robes had revealed several potent group abilities—Ice Field, Ice Shield, Ice Wall. Even among those wielding opposing elements, the enhancements were undeniable.
As Cane finished another robe, the recipient thanked him with genuine reverence. He nodded in reply, already reaching for the next.
A voice, rich and musical, interrupted him mid-motion.
"Greetings, Cane. I am Moriwynn of the Sunset Court."
He glanced up—and froze.
The elfen woman stood just ahead of the line. Her face was partially hidden beneath a dark cloak, but nothing could dim the unnatural brilliance of her presence. Her pale gold hair, braided tightly, hinted at the elegance she kept cloaked. Dark emerald eyes, ancient and luminous, held his gaze.
She pulled back her hood.
Gasps followed from all sides—except Gryphon Company, who had likely grown used to her, and Cane, who had spent too much time submerged in metal and runes to be shaken by mere beauty.
Cane gave her a polite nod and finished the final robe in the queue. He stood, offering a brief thanks—only for a soft metallic ring to slice the air.
Moriwynn drew a sword.
But it wasn't a threat. The blade was flawless, forged from bright, living steel, and humming with latent power. She held it before him like an offering.
Cane's instincts took over.
He placed a hand on the flat of the blade and submerged.
The world vanished in a blink.
—
A duel—two master swordsmen beneath a blood-orange sky. Their blades clashed in silence. One triumphed, but rather than gloat, he fell to his knees, weeping. A younger Moriwynn embraced him as grief poured from his soul.
The memory dissolved like fog.
Cane found himself inside the steel itself, its essence singing to him. The craftsmanship was extraordinary—but more than that, it was alive. Infused with soul, with memory.
"Essence," Cane murmured. "They left part of themselves behind… forged it into the weapon."
He blinked.
His hand moved on instinct. Blue met the blade.
The rune activated.
This time, the Ice Gryphon didn't just appear—it arrived.
Wings thundered. Cold wind blasted outward. Its scream rang through the plaza like a rift in the sky. It wasn't an aspect—it was real. For a moment, it felt like the mythic beast had crossed over from another plane.
Moriwynn inspected the sword with narrowed eyes. She nodded once—but her gaze shifted to Cane, faint indignation glinting beneath the surface.
"You saw," she said quietly. "You looked into my blade. Trespasser."
"Huh?" Cane blinked.
Before he could respond further, a hand gripped his shoulder.
Light exploded.
—
The world was haze and brilliance, like sunlight diffused through smoke. Moriwynn stood before him again, her battle leathers gone, replaced by a simple woven dress. Her presence was still ethereal, but softer—like memory rendered in silk.
Cane's instincts warned him to be cautious, but oddly, he felt no fear.
"You peered into my sword," she said. "You fumbled into something my people hold sacred."
"I submerged into it," Cane said. "It's part of my metallurgy—being one with the metal."
She tilted her head, bemused.
"No, it's not. Not really. Humans speak of bonding with metal symbolically. You… you entered it. Fully. Like a dwarf enters the stone. Like some elves can."
Her eyes narrowed. "But you… you're the first human I've ever seen do it."
Cane scanned the smoky light. "Where are we?"
"You tell me," she replied.
He closed his eyes. He could feel it—threads of reality woven loosely around him. The fabric of existence itself.
"You… submerged into everything," he whispered. "Into the world around you. That's what you did."
Moriwynn smiled, and it was like bells and birdsong.
"With that sentence," she said, "you've uncovered the secret of our longevity, our strength. Elves submerge into the universe itself, just as you sink into metal."
"So it's not much of a mystery if I can figure it out."
Her laughter rang through the space, light but thoughtful.
"In the Sunset Court, your actions would be considered a deep offense," she said gently. "You were one with my blade. You saw what wasn't meant for you."
"I'm sorry," Cane said, honestly. "I didn't know weapons could be infused with life essence. That's new to me."
She studied him with unreadable eyes.
"My people would call you a metal singer."
Cane raised a brow. "That sounds made up."
"It's very real," she replied. "Even if rare."
He paused. "Are we done here?"
She tilted her head once more. "We have to be. You shouldn't linger between."
The light flared—brighter, then gone.
—
The world snapped back into place. The festival sounds returned, voices and music dancing in the air as if nothing had happened.
Cane stood in the plaza once more, Blue still in hand, Moriwynn's sword gleaming beside him.
But something had changed.
Not in the world.
In him.
Moriwynn's voice carried the weight of centuries—calm, certain, imperious.
"For your transgression, I will not escalate the matter. Instead, I will accept the Glacial Dress on display in town."
Cane blinked. "No."
The single word drew a ripple of surprise from the surrounding crowd.
Sofie stepped up beside him, her brows raised, but smiling as if she knew what was coming.
Moriwynn tilted her head, puzzled. "You won't?"
She said it like it was a phrase she'd never needed before. Like refusal was an unfamiliar concept.
"No," Cane repeated, tone steady. "I offered my sincere apology, and I placed a mythic rune on your blade—freely. Don't mistake kindness for submission."
Then he turned, took Sofie's hand, and guided her back toward the dance floor without another word.
Moriwynn remained where she stood—open-mouthed, stunned into silence.
"You've been Caned…" Fergis muttered under his breath—a quiet comment not meant to be heard.
It absolutely was.
He caught the sharp looks from nearby Gryphon Company members and immediately retreated to the dance floor with an awkward flourish.
Moriwynn watched them go—Cane and Sofie spinning, laughing, radiant in their own chaotic rhythm. Young. Confident. Unapologetically alive. And more than that—capable. Bright lights meant to lead others forward.
She didn't look away.
"Did everyone receive the rune upgrade, Sergeant?" she asked, her voice returning to its usual precision.
Labyrinth nodded. "Yes, Commander. I can speak with him if you'd like. Surely, if he realized what an honor—"
Moriwynn raised a hand, stopping her mid-sentence.
A rare smile curved her lips—wry, self-aware.
"No. He was right," she said simply. "He upgraded my sword and our company's Glacial Ice runes without hesitation. I tried to take advantage."
She glanced again at the dress displayed in the tailor's window. "Reach out later—if it's possible. Offer payment for the dress."
"How much?" Labyrinth asked.
Moriwynn kept her gaze on the dance floor, where Cane executed a particularly terrible spin with exaggerated flair.
"Whatever he asks."