The trio returned to the academy under the weight of unspoken questions. The memory of the cloaked figure fleeing the market lingered in their minds, and though none of them said it outright, the resemblance to Kalem was undeniable.
Nara was the first to break the silence as they walked through the academy courtyard. "I'm telling you, it had to be him. The height, the way he moved—it was Kalem."
Lyra frowned. "We don't know that for sure. It could've just been someone who looked like him."
"Then why'd they run?" Nara shot back. "You don't bolt like that unless you're guilty of something."
Jhaeros, who had been quiet since the chase, finally spoke. "We'll confront him, but carefully. If it was Kalem, there's a reason he didn't want to be seen. And if it wasn't…" He paused, his golden eyes narrowing. "We might've stumbled into something bigger than we thought."
Later that evening, they found Kalem in one of the academy's workshops, hunched over a cluttered workbench. The room was filled with the smell of molten metal and the sharp tang of alchemical compounds. Tools and half-finished projects were scattered everywhere, a testament to his relentless focus.
He didn't notice them at first, his attention fixed on a set of gauntlets he was meticulously engraving with runes. It wasn't until Nara cleared her throat loudly that he looked up, startled.
"Oh, it's you," Kalem said, wiping his hands on a rag. His tone was casual, but the trio could see the slight tension in his posture. "What brings you here?"
Lyra crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "We need to talk. About the market."
Kalem blinked. "The market? What about it?"
"We saw someone there," Nara said bluntly. "A cloaked figure. Looked a lot like you."
For a split second, something flickered in Kalem's expression—surprise, perhaps even guilt. But it was gone as quickly as it came.
"You think it was me?" he asked, his tone carefully neutral.
"Well, was it?" Jhaeros pressed, his sharp gaze fixed on Kalem.
Kalem hesitated, his fingers tightening slightly on the edge of the workbench. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said finally. "I haven't been anywhere near the market."
Nara snorted. "Right. And we're just supposed to believe that?"
"Why wouldn't you?" Kalem shot back, his voice rising slightly. "I've been here all day, working on this." He gestured to the gauntlets on the table.
"Then why did the guy run when he saw us?" Lyra challenged.
"I don't know," Kalem said, his frustration evident. "But it wasn't me."
The room fell into an uneasy silence. Lyra studied Kalem's face, searching for any hint of deceit, but his expression was as guarded as ever.
"You have to admit," Nara said, crossing her arms, "it's a little suspicious. You're always sneaking off to work on stuff, and now we find someone who looks exactly like you doing shady business in the market?"
Kalem's jaw tightened. "I'm not sneaking off—I'm working. There's a difference. And if someone's pretending to be me, maybe you should be focusing on that instead of accusing me."
Jhaeros stepped between them before the argument could escalate further. "Enough," he said firmly. "This isn't getting us anywhere. Kalem, if you're hiding something, we'll find out eventually. But for now, we'll take you at your word."
Kalem met Jhaeros' gaze, his expression unreadable. "I'm not hiding anything."
Jhaeros nodded slowly. "Then we'll leave it at that."
As they left the workshop, the tension between the trio was palpable. Nara was the first to break the silence, her voice low and bitter. "He's lying. I can feel it."
"We don't know that," Lyra said, though her tone lacked conviction.
Jhaeros, walking slightly ahead of them, didn't respond immediately. His feline ears twitched as he replayed the conversation in his mind. "If he's lying," he said finally, "we'll find out soon enough. For now, we keep an eye on him—and on the market."
Lyra frowned. "You think the market's connected to this?"
Jhaeros nodded. "There's too much going on down there for it to be a coincidence. The cloaked figure, the underground dealings… something's not right."
Back in the workshop, Kalem sat in silence, his hands resting on the table. His eyes were fixed on the gauntlets in front of him, but his mind was elsewhere.
He hadn't lied—not entirely. He had been working all day. But there was more to the story, more than he was ready to share.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small, folded piece of parchment. Unfolding it carefully, he studied the rough sketch it contained—a design for a complex mechanism, one that required materials he couldn't easily obtain through legitimate means.
His hand tightened around the paper. "They can't know," he muttered under his breath.
With a sigh, he tucked the parchment away and turned back to the gauntlets. The engraving was nearly complete, but the weight of his secrets made the task feel heavier than it should have.
The trio's suspicions about Kalem would not fade easily. Over the next few days, they began to investigate the market more closely, hoping to uncover the truth about the cloaked figure.
At the same time, Kalem threw himself into his work, determined to stay ahead of whatever questions might come his way.
But as the threads of their lives began to intertwine with the shadows of the underground, one thing became clear: secrets had a way of surfacing, and the truth was far more dangerous than any of them had anticipated.