The forge was quiet, save for the occasional flickering of embers in the nearby furnace. The scent of iron, coal, and oil lingered in the air, but for once, Kalem wasn't working. Instead, he sat in a corner, hunched over a thick, leather-bound book. The pages were worn, the ink slightly faded, yet the knowledge within was timeless.
It was a book on blacksmithing history, something he had picked up from the academy's archives.
He wasn't reading for craft alone—he knew enough about forging—but for something deeper. Understanding history meant understanding power. And power shaped politics.
Jhaeros, lounging nearby with Velka curled at his feet, raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you read for fun?"
Kalem didn't look up. "It's not for fun. It's research."
"Research for what?"
Kalem turned the page. "To understand why people want weapons."
Jhaeros snorted. "To kill people."
Kalem tapped the page. "Not always. There was a time when blacksmithing wasn't about war." He glanced at the Ilvaar. "Do you know who the first blacksmiths were?"
Jhaeros stretched, ears flicking slightly. "Some humans hammering metal in caves?"
Kalem smirked. "Not exactly." He ran a finger down a passage in the book. "The first known blacksmiths weren't humans. They were dwarves, of course, but also… Draconians."
Jhaeros sat up a little straighter. "Draconians?"
Kalem nodded. "They were the first to forge metals in ways that surpassed simple tools. Some of the greatest alloys in history were discovered, not invented—Draconians found them in the heart of their volcanic homes."
Jhaeros frowned. "I thought Draconians relied on their claws, teeth, and magic. Why would they even need metal weapons?"
Kalem flipped another page. "That's the interesting part. They didn't. They forged weapons for others. Their scales were tougher than steel, their claws sharper than any blade. But they realized something early—power isn't just about strength, it's about control."
Jhaeros tilted his head. "You're saying they made weapons to control others?"
"Not just weapons. Armor. Tools. Machines. The Draconians were among the first to master metal beyond crude bronze. They traded with the early dwarves and, later, with humans." Kalem tapped a passage in the book. "This alliance between Draconians and dwarves led to the creation of the first true forges—ones capable of reaching the temperatures needed to work with magical metals. Before that, most civilizations were stuck with iron and bronze."
Jhaeros rubbed his chin. "So… Draconians didn't just make weapons. They shaped civilizations by giving them access to better metallurgy."
Kalem nodded. "Exactly."
Nara, who had been quietly listening while lying on a workbench, finally spoke up. "Then why aren't they the most powerful race now?"
Kalem's expression darkened slightly. "Because of what happened later."
Jhaeros leaned in. "Go on."
Kalem turned to another section of the book. "As civilizations grew, the Draconians realized something—they were too strong for their own good."
Nara frowned. "How does that even make sense?"
Kalem tapped the book again. "Because they didn't just make weapons for others. They made great weapons. Weapons capable of harming even themselves." He flipped the page, showing an ancient illustration—an enormous Draconian warrior pierced by a spear glowing with runes.
Jhaeros narrowed his eyes. "So, they forged their own downfall."
Kalem nodded. "The weapons they crafted for others became the means to defeat them. Kingdoms that were once their trade partners turned on them, using Draconian-forged steel to slay their former allies."
Nara crossed her arms. "That's dumb. If they were so powerful, why didn't they just wipe everyone else out?"
Kalem sighed. "Because they weren't interested in conquest. They valued creation. Their mistake wasn't weakness—it was trust." He looked down at the book. "And that trust was betrayed."
The room was quiet for a moment.
Then Jhaeros asked, "So… what happened to them?"
Kalem flipped to the last page in the chapter. "Some fought back. Some fled. But most… were hunted." His voice was calm, but there was a weight behind it. "The ones who survived either hid their existence or integrated into other societies. True Draconians—the ones who remembered their old ways—became almost mythical."
Nara scoffed. "And what about their forges? Their secrets?"
Kalem closed the book. "Lost. Or, at least, kept very, very hidden."
Jhaeros leaned back, exhaling. "So, what do you take from this?"
Kalem looked at the closed book in his hands.
"…That power isn't about having strength. It's about understanding the consequences of giving it away."