Two months had passed since Kalem had started using the anti-sleeping potions, and contrary to Lyra's fears, he managed them effectively. While she was relieved, it only deepened her curiosity.
"So, how did you do it?" Lyra asked one evening, standing in the stable doorway as Kalem sat beside Onyx, sketching runes on a worn sheet of parchment.
"Do what exactly?" Kalem responded without looking up, his quill moving steadily.
"Manage the effects of the anti-sleeping potions," Lyra clarified, stepping closer. "Most people who take something that overrides natural functions end up with nasty side effects. But you seem... fine. How?"
Kalem set the quill down and leaned back against Onyx, who snorted softly as if sensing the shift in the conversation. "I just don't overdo it," he replied simply.
Lyra raised an eyebrow. "That's it? No secret method? No trick?"
"Well, I space the doses out carefully and avoid taking them when I don't absolutely need to," Kalem added, stretching his arms. "Plus, I've been through worse."
Lyra's suspicion deepened. "Worse? What do you mean?"
Kalem hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Let's just say this isn't my first time dealing with something... hazardous."
"Wait," Lyra said, narrowing her eyes. "You're not saying you were... a drug addict or something, are you?"
Kalem let out a laugh, shaking his head. "No, nothing like that. But I did once take something risky when I had to fight a Garon."
The stable went silent. Lyra blinked at him, then burst into laughter. "A Garon? Seriously? Come on, Kalem. That's ridiculous. Garons are apex predators! You might as well tell me you wrestled a dragon."
Even Onyx let out a rumbling grunt, as though mocking his master's claim.
Kalem didn't argue. Instead, he stood and walked over to the cart parked nearby. Lyra watched as he opened a hidden compartment and pulled out a weapon.
The moment she saw it, her laughter stopped.
The spear was jagged and crimson, its shaft glinting faintly in the light as if it were alive. The tip was dark, layered with shimmering scales that seemed to absorb and refract the light around them.
"This is what I used to kill it," Kalem said quietly, holding up the spear. "And after I escaped, I went back to finish the job."
Lyra's expression shifted from disbelief to confusion. "Wait. Escaped? What are you talking about?"
Kalem returned to his seat, the spear resting across his knees. "It was years ago, back when I worked as a miner in Warsaw," he began.
Lyra's curiosity deepened. She'd never heard Kalem talk about his past in such detail before.
"In Warsaw, miners didn't just dig for ore," Kalem explained. "Sometimes, we were conscripted for dangerous jobs. Clearing out tunnels, fighting off beasts that had taken up residence... that sort of thing. One day, word came down that a Garon had made its lair near one of the shafts. They sent a group of us to deal with it."
Lyra's eyes widened. "You're kidding."
"I wish I was," Kalem replied, his tone grim. "We didn't stand a chance. Most of the men didn't even know what a Garon was, let alone how to fight one. It tore through us like we were nothing."
He paused, his gaze distant. "I barely got out alive. Ran for my life, left everything behind. But the thing is... I couldn't forget it. Couldn't shake the feeling that it was still out there, waiting. So after I left Warsaw, I decided to go back."
Lyra stared at him, stunned. "You chose to go back and face it again? Alone?"
Kalem nodded. "Yeah. I prepared as much as I could. Spent weeks gathering supplies, studying its habits, figuring out how to use its aggression against it. I knew I couldn't fight it head-on, so I used traps, poisons, anything I could think of. This spear?" He lifted it slightly. "I made it from its bones and scales after I killed it. Improved it over time."
Lyra leaned in, inspecting the weapon. The scales on the tip glimmered with an almost hypnotic beauty, but they exuded a faint menace as well.
"That's insane," she said finally, shaking her head. "I don't even know what to say."
Kalem smirked. "You're not the first person to say that."
Lyra hesitated, then asked, "Why? Why would you risk your life like that? You could've just moved on."
Kalem's expression softened, his fingers tracing the edge of the spear. "Because I didn't want to live the rest of my life running from it. I had to prove to myself that I could face it. That I wasn't afraid anymore."
Lyra was quiet for a moment, her gaze fixed on the spear. Then she let out a low whistle. "Well, remind me to never get on your bad side."
Kalem chuckled, setting the spear aside. "Don't worry. You're safe."
For a while, they sat in silence, the only sound the soft rustling of Onyx shifting his weight. Lyra glanced at the spear one last time, its deadly beauty a stark reminder of Kalem's past.
"Hey," she said suddenly, breaking the silence. "You ever think about what's next? Like, after all this?"
Kalem looked at her, his expression thoughtful. "I guess I'll figure it out when I get there."
Lyra nodded, a small smile on her lips. "Fair enough."
As the evening wore on, Kalem returned to his runes, and Lyra leaned back against the stable wall, her thoughts drifting. She couldn't help but wonder what other stories her companion was hiding—and whether she really wanted to know.