Kalem exhaled as he locked the forge's door, the heavy thud of the bolt sliding into place echoing through the dimly lit room. He ran a hand over his face, exhaustion pressing down on him like a lead weight.
Onyx shifted in the corner, the massive bull letting out a slow, rhythmic breath as he slept. Kalem envied him.
He moved toward his cot, dropping onto it without ceremony. The conversation with Valdris and Vermund still echoed in his mind. The reward, the offer, the watchful eyes now set upon him.
He glanced at the pouch of gold, its presence both reassuring and unsettling. It was a lot of money—more than he had ever handled at once—but it wasn't freedom.
Not when the academy had him under scrutiny.
Not when others were watching.
Kalem sighed, shifting onto his side. His body ached, the bruises from the match with Isolde still fading. His mind, however, refused to quiet down.
He stared at the ceiling, willing himself to stop thinking.
For once, he needed rest.
And finally, after what felt like hours, sleep took him.
Outside the Forge – A Different Conversation
Valdris walked with long, measured steps, hands clasped behind his back as he and Alaric Vermund moved through the dimly lit academy streets. The torches flickered against the cold night air, their glow casting elongated shadows across the cobblestone path.
The Material Studies Head sighed, shaking his head. "That boy is a paradox."
Valdris glanced at him. "Explain."
Alaric let out a quiet chuckle. "I expected him to demand rare alloys, maybe some forbidden crafting techniques. But instead, he asks for something so… mundane."
Valdris raised an eyebrow. "You think it was a foolish choice?"
"No," Alaric admitted, "just… unexpected." He paused. "Then again, that seems to be a theme with him."
They walked in silence for a moment before Valdris spoke. "What's your assessment?"
Alaric exhaled. "Kalem is intelligent—frighteningly so. His grasp of metallurgy, resonance theory, and engineering is beyond his years. If he had a more traditional education in our field, he might already surpass some of my best scholars."
"But?" Valdris prompted.
Alaric frowned. "He's reckless."
Valdris gave him a knowing look. "Like another student we know?"
Alaric's lips pressed into a thin line. "Isolde."
Valdris nodded. "Yes."
Alaric sighed. "I don't know if he's reckless due to arrogance, or if he simply lacks concern for his own safety. The way he designed that sword—it's ingenious, but it's also dangerous. He's constantly pushing limits, finding ways around conventional wisdom. That's what concerns me."
Valdris hummed in thought. "And yet, Isolde does the same."
"Yes, but Isolde has structure," Alaric said. "Her recklessness comes from her desire to prove herself, to win. Kalem, on the other hand…" He trailed off.
Valdris finished the thought. "He does it for the sake of creation."
Alaric nodded. "Exactly. He's not chasing glory. He's testing theories, building, refining. He doesn't care about winning. He cares about discovery. And that, in some ways, is even more dangerous."
Valdris glanced toward the towering academy buildings in the distance. "And Isolde?"
Alaric was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "She's too much like her father."
Valdris exhaled sharply, nodding in understanding. "Unyielding."
"Unyielding and obsessed with strength," Alaric said. "She has all the makings of a formidable warrior, but she needs control. She relies too much on overwhelming power. Unlike Kalem, who seeks to solve problems, Isolde chooses to destroy them."
Valdris frowned. "So, in your opinion… who is the greater danger?"
Alaric was silent for a long time before he finally answered.
"…Both."
They walked a few more paces before Valdris finally spoke again. "Then we must keep a close eye on them."
Alaric sighed. "That's what I was afraid of."
They continued walking, the academy's towering silhouette looming ahead.
In the forge, Kalem slept—unaware of the watchful eyes upon him.