The evening air in Gron was crisp, carrying the scent of burning wood and roasted meats from the street vendors lining the main roads. The city was still buzzing with excitement over the tournament's aftermath, but for Kalem, the noise faded into the background as he walked back to his forge.
Jhaeros and Nara had split off earlier, leaving him with Lyra, who seemed determined to ensure he didn't immediately bury himself in work the moment they arrived.
"You should sleep," she said, glancing at him as they reached the door.
Kalem pushed it open, stepping inside. "I'll sleep later."
Lyra sighed. "You say that, but you won't. You'll start working on something, then lose track of time. Then tomorrow, you'll be exhausted, but you'll keep going anyway."
Kalem didn't argue because she was right. Instead, he walked past the workbench where his crate of materials and blueprints sat, picking up a piece of parchment.
"I have a few modifications I want to test," he said absently, scanning his notes.
Lyra rolled her eyes. "Of course you do." She plucked the parchment from his hand, setting it aside. "Tomorrow."
Kalem exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. He wasn't tired—not really. His mind was too full of ideas, calculations, and theories that needed testing. But Lyra was annoyingly persistent, and he knew from experience she wouldn't let up.
"Fine," he muttered. "Tomorrow."
She looked at him, unconvinced, but nodded. "Good."
As she turned to leave, she hesitated at the door. "You know… you never actually said what you're going to do now."
Kalem raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to keep working."
"That's not what I meant."
He frowned. "Then what do you mean?"
Lyra sighed, crossing her arms. "You're not just some anonymous student anymore, Kalem. After that fight, people are watching you. Nobles, merchants, guilds—they all see potential. And some of them might see a threat."
Kalem leaned against the workbench, thinking. He had always preferred to stay out of the political web of the noble class, but with the spectacle of the tournament, his anonymity had taken a severe hit.
"I'll deal with it when it becomes a problem," he finally said.
Lyra shook her head. "That's not a plan."
Kalem smirked. "It's worked so far."
She narrowed her eyes but didn't argue. "Just… don't be reckless."
He chuckled. "I'm always careful."
Lyra gave him a flat look before turning on her heel and stepping out into the night. "Sure you are."
As the door closed behind her, Kalem finally allowed himself to sit down. His muscles ached—a dull reminder of the battle's intensity. He reached for his notebook, flipping through his notes. There were still things he needed to refine about his new weapon, improvements to make, weaknesses to address.
But for the first time in a long while, he hesitated.
He wasn't used to being in the spotlight. He had never wanted it. But now that he was, avoiding it wasn't an option.
A quiet sigh left his lips.
Tomorrow. He would deal with it tomorrow.
For now, he allowed himself a rare moment of stillness.