The morning air was crisp and cool as Kalem worked beside the stable, scrubbing down Onyx with slow, deliberate strokes. His bull snorted in satisfaction, flicking his tail as warm water streamed down his thick hide. Bathing a beast of Onyx's size was no small task, but Kalem had gotten used to it. It was a routine that kept him grounded, a rare moment of peace amidst the chaos of academy life.
The peace, however, was short-lived.
A group of city guards approached, their chainmail clinking softly as they stopped just short of the stable entrance. Kalem straightened, rubbing the back of his head as he took them in. They didn't look hostile, but their presence alone was enough to make him tense.
One of the guards, a stocky man with a graying beard, cleared his throat. "Kalem, student of Arcathis Academy, correct?"
Kalem nodded slowly. "Yeah. Did something happen?"
The guard crossed his arms, giving him a scrutinizing look. "You've been reported for excessive weapon manufacturing."
Kalem blinked. "Wait… what?"
One of the younger guards pulled out a small ledger and flipped through it. "We received multiple accounts of a student producing weapons in unusual quantities. Someone saw your workshop and assumed you were an illegal arms dealer."
Kalem groaned. He should've seen this coming. His experiments had resulted in dozens of weapons—some fully functional, others complete failures. And while he melted most of them down for reuse, there were always a few left over at any given time.
The older guard continued, "Now, before you panic, we did our due diligence. You're a student in the Material Division, and most of your work is part of your training. Additionally, our investigation found that you haven't sold anything outside of legal trade channels."
Kalem exhaled in relief. "So… I'm not in trouble?"
The guard narrowed his eyes. "Not exactly. Consider this a formal warning. The Academy doesn't appreciate students drawing unwanted attention, and we certainly don't need rumors about a young blacksmith secretly arming a militia."
The younger guard smirked. "Maybe close your windows and doors next time."
Kalem sighed. He really should've been more discreet.
Academy's Response
Later that afternoon, Kalem found himself sitting in the Dean's office, arms crossed as one of the Academy administrators lectured him.
"The Arcathis Academy takes pride in its students' craftsmanship," the official droned, adjusting his spectacles. "However, manufacturing such a large volume of weaponry—especially enchanted gear—raises concerns."
Kalem nodded, half-listening. He knew the drill.
After twenty minutes of stern words, the Academy formally acknowledged his skills but advised him to reduce his production. While he wouldn't face punishment, his work would be under closer supervision moving forward.
Not ideal, but he could live with it.
The Aftermath
That evening, Kalem returned to the tavern, exhausted but mostly unbothered by the day's events. His relief was short-lived, however, as he found himself face-to-face with Lyra's piercing glare.
She had her arms crossed, her foot tapping impatiently. Jhaeros and Nara stood nearby, both clearly waiting to hear the details.
Lyra wasted no time.
"What in the void were you thinking, Kalem?" she scolded, hands on her hips. "I told you to be careful! You're lucky they didn't seize everything in your workshop!"
Kalem sighed, rubbing his temples. "It wasn't a big deal. They gave me a warning and told me to tone it down."
"Not a big deal?" Lyra huffed. "You were already dealing with that borderline legal merchant for commissions! Now you're on the city watch's radar. Do you have any idea how suspicious this looks?"
Kalem opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Nara burst into laughter.
"This is amazing," she wheezed. "You worked so hard, you accidentally looked like a black-market arms dealer!"
Kalem groaned. "Nara, not helping."
Jhaeros, ever the calm one, simply shook his head. "Next time, just close your windows and doors when you work."
Kalem shot him a flat look. "That's what the guards said."
"Because they're right," Jhaeros said plainly.
Nara chuckled. "So, what's your next move? Gonna start a secret underground forge?"
Kalem rolled his eyes. "No, I'm going to be more discreet. And maybe focus on refining fewer, better weapons instead of mass-producing everything that pops into my head."
Lyra pinched the bridge of her nose. "Thank the gods. If you actually get arrested, I'm not bailing you out."
Kalem smirked. "You'd let me rot in a cell?"
Lyra gave him a look. "I'd wait at least a day. Maybe two. Just so you learn your lesson."
Nara clapped him on the back. "Lesson or not, this whole thing is hilarious. I almost wish they'd dragged you off in chains, just so I could see your face."
Kalem groaned. "Great. Glad my suffering is so entertaining."
Despite the teasing, there was warmth in their banter. Even Lyra, despite her frustration, seemed relieved that Kalem wasn't in serious trouble.
A Shift in Focus
With the warning fresh in his mind, Kalem adjusted his approach in the following days. Instead of making dozens of weapons, he focused on perfecting a few select pieces.
His primary project became an enchanted gauntlet, a versatile tool that would enhance both offense and defense without restricting movement. It would be his personal weapon for the tournament, designed to complement his unarmed combat skills.
Jhaeros, meanwhile, intensified his training with Velka, making sure his dire wolf would respond flawlessly in battle.
Nara doubled down on her elemental control, determined to refine her techniques rather than rely on raw power.
Lyra, despite not participating, continued watching and analyzing their progress. Though she wouldn't be in the arena, she was invested in their success.
As the tournament drew closer, their excitement grew. Despite the hiccups, despite the challenges, they were ready.
And Kalem?
He was determined to prove himself—without getting arrested in the process.