The morning sun filtered through the soot-streaked window of Kalem's forge, casting long slants of light across scattered blueprints and half-finished projects. The room smelled of oil, steel, and parchment—a scent he found more comforting than any noble estate or academy hall.
He sat hunched over his workbench, scribbling notes in his tattered notebook, detailing the faults and successes of his last battle. His sword had performed beyond expectations, but its limitations had been made clear. The resonance effect amplified his strikes, but the lack of defense had nearly cost him.
I need a way to counterbalance that.
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
"Who's there?" Kalem called without looking up.
The door creaked open, and Jhaeros stepped inside, his feline eyes scanning the cluttered room. Velka padded in behind him, sniffing at a pile of spare metal parts.
"You're up early," Jhaeros noted. "Not surprising, but still."
Kalem smirked. "I assume you're here for a reason?"
Jhaeros leaned against a nearby worktable. "Word is spreading. The Academy still hasn't announced the final decision on the match, but people are already talking about what comes next."
Kalem frowned. "What do you mean?"
Jhaeros tossed a folded letter onto the table. "Recruitment offers. Requests. Challenges. And, of course, a few threats."
Kalem opened the letter, scanning its contents. It was from a merchant consortium, offering him a ridiculous sum of money to serve as a private enforcer. Another was from a noble house seeking his expertise in designing weapons.
He set them down, uninterested.
"Anything important?" he asked.
Jhaeros shrugged. "Depends on what you consider important. Some mercenary groups are eyeing you. A few warlords are intrigued. And some noble factions aren't pleased that a nobody blacksmith embarrassed their chosen candidates."
Kalem exhaled sharply. "Typical."
Jhaeros watched him carefully. "You're not worried?"
Kalem shook his head. "I knew this would happen." He tapped the letter with a finger. "They can scheme all they want. I have no interest in playing their games."
Jhaeros chuckled. "You say that, but you're already in the game, whether you like it or not."
Kalem rolled his shoulders. "Then I'll play by my own rules."
Before Jhaeros could reply, another knock came at the door. This one was more forceful.
Kalem sighed. "Busy morning."
He opened the door to find Garrick standing there, arms crossed, his usual scowl in place. But unlike his normal visits, he wasn't empty-handed. Over his shoulder was a large sack, clinking with the unmistakable weight of metal.
"You look well," Kalem said dryly.
"Not as well as you," Garrick grunted, stepping inside without invitation. He dropped the sack onto the nearest workbench, causing dust to rise in the air. "I need new armor."
Kalem raised an eyebrow. "You, asking me for armor?"
Garrick crossed his arms. "You're the only one I trust to make something that won't break."
Jhaeros snorted. "That's a lot of faith in someone who nearly cut you in half."
Garrick shot him a glare before turning back to Kalem. "I brought materials. And money." He tapped the sack. "Enough for something better than that scrap metal the Academy hands out."
Kalem opened the sack, sifting through the materials. There were ingots of high-grade steel, infused with mana-conductive minerals. Alongside them, a small crate of alchemical compounds, likely for reinforcement or elemental resistance.
He glanced up at Garrick. "You really want me to make this?"
"You've seen my fighting style," Garrick said. "I don't dodge, I endure. But after your sword cut through my last set like paper, I need something stronger."
Kalem leaned back, considering. "It won't be cheap."
Garrick smirked. "I know. That's why I brought extra."
Jhaeros, watching the exchange, tilted his head. "This isn't just about armor, is it?"
Garrick exhaled. "No. It's about survival. You and I both know we'll be facing trouble sooner or later." He looked at Kalem. "Might as well have someone watching your back."
Kalem studied him for a moment. Garrick was blunt, stubborn, and reckless, but he was also skilled and unyielding. Having an ally like him wouldn't be the worst idea.
"I'll consider it," Kalem said.
Garrick nodded. "Good enough for now."
As he turned to leave, he glanced at Kalem's workbench. "That new sword of yours… it's dangerous."
Kalem smirked. "I know."
Garrick chuckled. "Good. Keep it that way."
As the door shut behind him, Kalem turned back to Jhaeros, who was watching with amusement.
"You're gathering quite the circle," Jhaeros mused.
Kalem shook his head. "Not by choice."
Jhaeros grinned. "That's how it always starts."
Kalem sighed, glancing at the materials Garrick had left. The world around him was shifting, and whether he liked it or not, he was at the center of it.
For now, all he could do was prepare.