Things had been quiet for a couple of weeks now. Almost unnervingly so. I used the downtime to train my magic — or at least to try. I wanted to be useful next time we got attacked, not just run around like a scared rabbit, as usual. Elisabeth was slowly getting used to all this chaos, too. Sometimes, a priest of the Light named Malcolm helped her. I'd heard he was important to Elisabeth — or maybe the other way around — but the guy had lost an arm during the attack on the capital. Not that he was exactly out of the game; apparently, they managed to treat him, but the arm was gone for good.
Arden dropped by once to check on Elisabeth. When he found out about Malcolm's missing limb, he just said something like, "He could grow it back." Then added that the process was complicated — it wasn't just about healing, but regrowing skeleton, nerves, muscles. The man would need focus and knowledge Arden didn't think he had… yet. Arden claimed he had a plan to help Malcolm someday, but he wouldn't say when.
I'd also heard, from whispers and rumors around the palace, that something strange had happened at a tavern recently—something Arden was involved in, but no one really saw the whole thing. The story went that a woman tried to approach him, but things ended... explosively. Nobody knew exactly what happened, just that it wasn't ordinary, and people were quick to avoid asking questions. Sora seemed to treat it like old news, like she'd seen worse. It made me wonder what kind of dangers followed Arden around, even when we thought things were calm.
Right now, I was walking down one of the palace's endless corridors alongside Seraphina and Lysandria. Seraphina looked sharp in a blue uniform with gold epaulettes, her posture straight as always. Lysandria tagged along, as usual, because Thalia had something she insisted we both see. Thalia was ahead, practically bouncing with her usual manic energy, leading us toward Sector Nine — the workshop we'd toured days ago.
Things had gotten busier here. Some of the inventors had relocated to a safer sector, just in case. But Thalia wasn't convinced any place outside the palace was actually safer.
"The palace is the safest place you could be," she said, waving a hand dismissively as the metal entrance hissed open. "Anywhere else is just playing tag with death, and death always wins."
We stepped inside.
The workshop was a chaotic blend of clanging metal, glowing crystals, and faint magical hums. Machines of all sizes were scattered around — some whirring, others paused mid-experiment like trapped moments in time.
Thalia led us to a corner where a strange contraption stood—a bulky, gleaming apparatus with crystal conduits pulsing with faint blue light. A thin mist curled around it.
"Behold!" Thalia announced, throwing her hands up dramatically. "Mana extraction — the next step in your magical journey."
I raised an eyebrow.
Before I could ask, Veyran appeared from behind a stack of equipment. His grin was as wild as ever, his hair still a birds nest.
"You see," he started, "anyone with the tamer skill can form a contract with a beast, if they have enough mana. This lets you summon that beast anytime—familiars, or summons, as most call them. Summons share their mana with their masters, but it's not equal. Like a mage with a giant reservoir linking to a small creature — nature's way of balance, so neither is overpowered."
He paced excitedly. "Now, what we've done is build a device that artificially creates a taming contract — but between two people. It means you can link directly with Arden's magic. The catch? Arden technically becomes your 'Master' in the contract, controlling how much mana flows to you. But don't worry — you're not a summon. He can't call you out like a common beast."
I frowned. "Why… would you do this for me?"
Thalia interrupted before Veyran could answer, grinning like she'd been waiting for that question.
"Oh, we don't do things just for you," she said, waving her hands like the whole thing was a side project. "This was Arden's idea to begin with, so I guess we kinda owe him."
I wasn't sure how to feel about that. It sounded like cheating. And what did it mean for Arden to be my "Master"? The idea of having that kind of connection made me feel weird—like I'd be 'owned' or controlled somehow. But then again… maybe I was overthinking it. Probably.
Veyran's voice cut in again, more serious this time. "The device isn't finished yet, and I want you to decide if you want to try it or not."
I looked at the shimmering machine, the soft glow of mana thrumming inside it. My life had been nothing but running and hiding, useless and powerless in a village that's gone now. I'd stared death in the face more times than I could count, and maybe it was time for something to change.
Still, it had been less than two months since I left that village. So many firsts had happened in that short time—I was still catching up.
"I… I need some time to think," I said, voice quieter than I expected.
Thalia grinned wildly. "Take all the time you want! But don't keep me waiting too long, or I'll start experimenting on Lysandria here. She's got an arm you know, but I'm still not convinced she's fully alive."
Lysandria shot Thalia a glare that could freeze lava, and Seraphina sighed.
I smiled despite myself.
I had come so far from that terrified girl in rags. I would decide this for myself—no matter how afraid I might be.
And then, when I was ready, I would take whatever path led me to become someone who could stand, unwavering, in the face of danger. But for now, I walked away—steadying my breathing, gathering courage with each step.
Thalia clasped her hands together, then pointed theatrically with both index fingers. "Alright! Time to give the spotlight to our blazing guest star!"
Lysandria flinched. "...What?"
Before she could retreat, Thalia seized her wrist with alarming speed and began dragging her toward the far end of the room, past some sort of clunky automaton frame half-covered in tarp. The corner they stopped at looked like a fusion between a blacksmith's bench and a surgical station. Metal parts, glowing coils, screws, wrenches, and tools that I didn't even recognize were piled on a thick, soot-stained workbench. On the wall beside it, a pristine white rack—mounted like a shrine to danger—held all manner of wicked tools and weapons, some of which gave off a faint hum.
Veyran appeared beside us in a blink, like a kid who'd just remembered where he'd hidden his favorite toy. "Aha! There we go—perfect!"
He reached up and grabbed a pair of gleaming dark-red gloves from the rack. They looked like they'd been forged in a volcano—elegant but intimidating, plated in a burnished alloy with runic inscriptions crawling up toward the forearms.
"Hold her up, please," he chirped, and Thalia, still clutching Lysandria's wrist like a leash, did exactly that.
"W-Wait," Lysandria stammered, but it was too late. Veyran had already slipped the first glove on with the gentle enthusiasm of someone handling a sacred relic. The metal hissed softly as it adjusted to the shape of her hand.
"Now, before you incinerate me out of reflex," Veyran said, smiling, "we'd like your expert input. We've been developing these for a while now, but very few mages in the capital can actually produce the sustained heat and control needed to test the enchantments properly."
"I'm not interested in being your test subject," Lysandria growled, trying to yank her hand back—but Thalia held firm with surprising strength.
"Oh, no no no," Thalia said quickly, raising both palms in surrender like she was trying to appease an angry wyvern. "We wouldn't dream of making the Lysandria work for free. That'd be insulting, obviously. So, we're offering you full rights to keep the gloves if you find them satisfactory. Plus," she leaned in conspiratorially, "you'll be the first person in the Empire to wield them. A one-of-a-kind prototype—designed specifically with fire channeling in mind."
Lysandria paused, expression twitching slightly.
"And," Thalia added in a sing-song whisper, "you'll be helping perfect a revolutionary tool that'll put all other enchanted gauntlets to shame. You'd be remembered in the research logs, you know. As the benchmark."
There it was.
Lysandria tsked loudly and folded her arms with a dramatic huff, the metal of the gauntlets clinking softly against her armor. "...Tch. Fine. I suppose it's only natural someone of my caliber would be requested for this. And if you're going to start acknowledging my prowess properly, I'll assist. Just—don't expect me to wear them unless they meet my standards."
"You're all heart," Seraphina muttered dryly beside me.
I didn't even try to hide my grin. She's so easy, I thought. Apparently, I wasn't the only one.
Thalia shot me a wink, and Seraphina's brow twitched just enough to confirm she was thinking the exact same thing.
"Great!" Thalia said cheerfully, and began pushing Lysandria—gloves and all—toward a side door with hazard markings scribbled around its frame. "Let's get you into our thermal containment chamber! Don't worry, we reinforced it after the last spontaneous combustion incident!"
"What?!" Lysandria snapped, digging her heels into the floor, but it didn't stop Thalia's momentum in the slightest.
The door hissed open. I caught a brief glimpse of red-tinted light, sleek panels, and what looked like a floating orb suspended inside a field of mana before it closed behind them with a heavy clang.
There was a beat of silence.
Then Veyran clapped his hands once and turned to me, still beaming like a man who'd just unleashed two disasters into a volcano. "We'll run some tests. You can observe later if you'd like. Just don't lean against any walls—they are sometimes alive."
Seraphina sighed through her nose.
And me? I was just glad I wasn't the one being fitted with things that might explode.