The morning sun filtered through the windows of the academy's common library, casting long beams of light across the stone floor. Lyra sat at one of the wooden tables, idly flipping through a book on alchemical reactions, though her mind wasn't on the text. Beside her, Jhaeros quietly polished the blade of a small ceremonial dagger, his Ilvaar patience masking the tension that simmered beneath the surface. Nara, however, made no effort to hide her restlessness, pacing near the window with her arms crossed.
"This doesn't feel right," Nara finally said, breaking the silence. "We just let him keep doing… whatever he's doing? With shady merchants? It's insane."
"We didn't exactly 'let' him," Lyra replied, her tone subdued. "We tried to reason with him. He just… didn't think he needed our help."
"And he's stubborn as a bull," Jhaeros added, glancing at Lyra meaningfully. "Fitting, considering his companion."
Nara snorted, though the humor did little to ease her frustration. "I don't like it. What if he's in deeper trouble than he realizes? We should—"
Whatever she was about to say was cut off by the creak of the library door. The trio turned as Kalem walked in, his expression unreadable. He had a leather satchel slung over his shoulder, the faint smell of oil and steel lingering around him.
"Morning," he said, his voice neutral but lacking his usual easygoing tone.
"Morning," Lyra replied cautiously. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be holed up in your forge again."
Kalem dropped the satchel onto the table with a heavy thud and pulled out a small bundle of parchment. "I figured it was time to clear the air," he said, unfolding the papers and spreading them across the table. "You deserve to know everything."
Nara raised an eyebrow, her pacing halted. "Well, that's a surprise. What changed?"
Kalem gave her a pointed look. "Let's just say our little confrontation got me thinking. If I'm going to keep doing this, I'd rather not have you three sneaking around and jumping to conclusions."
Jhaeros leaned forward, his sharp eyes scanning the papers. "These are… contracts?"
"Exactly," Kalem said, taking a seat. "The merchant's name is Tavrin. He approached me after the cultural festival, like I said. He saw the steel-and-fire display and wanted to commission me for custom enchanted equipment. At first, it was just a one-off project—a test run. But then he came back with more orders."
"And you agreed?" Lyra asked, frowning.
Kalem nodded. "I did. But not blindly. Before I signed anything, I went to the city guards to ask about him. They told me Tavrin operates in a gray area—he's not breaking any laws, but he skirts the edges. Rare goods, exotic materials, discreet clients. That kind of thing."
"Sounds shady to me," Nara muttered, crossing her arms again.
"Maybe," Kalem admitted. "But it's not like he's smuggling cursed artifacts or starting wars. Most of his clients are nobles looking for unique equipment, or adventurers willing to pay top coin for an edge in battle. And honestly? His coin's been keeping me afloat."
Lyra's frown deepened. "You're taking a big risk, Kalem. What if one of those nobles turns out to be trouble? Or what if the academy finds out?"
"I've thought about that," Kalem said, his tone firm. "That's why I don't put any identifying marks on the gear. No symbols, no names. Once it leaves my forge, it's just a high-quality weapon or piece of armor—nothing that ties it back to me."
"And the materials?" Jhaeros asked, tapping one of the contracts.
Kalem pulled a small pouch from his satchel and emptied its contents onto the table. Shards of enchanted metal, rare gemstones, and vials of shimmering liquid spilled out, catching the light.
"These are part of my payment," he explained. "Tavrin doesn't just pay in coin. He also gives me materials I couldn't afford otherwise. Some of this stuff—" he gestured to a translucent gem that glowed faintly—"is worth more than the entire forge."
Lyra picked up one of the vials, her curiosity momentarily overriding her concern. "This is… starfire essence," she murmured, recognition lighting her eyes. "Do you have any idea how rare this is?"
Kalem smirked faintly. "I do now. Tavrin's connections run deep."
"That doesn't make it less dangerous," Nara interjected, her voice sharp. "You're playing a risky game, Kalem. One wrong move, and you could lose everything."
Kalem leaned back in his chair, his expression calm but resolute. "I know the risks. But I'm not doing this for fun. I'm doing it because I don't have a choice. The academy doesn't give first-years a stipend, and living in that stable with Onyx isn't exactly luxurious. This forge is the only way I can stay afloat until I pass the first-year exams and get into the dorms."
The room fell silent as his words sank in. Lyra, Jhaeros, and Nara exchanged glances, their earlier frustration tempered by the reality of Kalem's situation.
Finally, Lyra broke the silence. "We understand why you're doing this, Kalem. But you don't have to do it alone. If you need help—"
"I'll ask," Kalem said, cutting her off. "I promise. But this is my responsibility. I appreciate your concern, but I've got this under control."
"You'd better," Nara muttered, though her tone was less biting than before.
Jhaeros nodded slowly. "Just be careful, Kalem. The line between gray and black is thinner than you think."
"I know," Kalem said quietly. "And I'm doing everything I can to stay on the right side of it."
The tension in the room eased slightly, though the unease lingered. Kalem gathered the contracts and materials, tucking them back into his satchel.
"Thanks for hearing me out," he said, standing up. "And for not storming my forge with pitchforks and torches."
Lyra managed a small smile. "Just don't give us a reason to."
As Kalem left the library, the trio remained behind, their concerns far from settled. But for now, they chose to trust him, even as the shadow of uncertainty loomed over their fragile understanding.