The city wrapped around them like a beast that both protected and watched.
Hinokami and Kai stepped out of the narrow, dark courtyard onto a wide boulevard where life roared like a foaming river.
Hinokami's gaze slid across the crowd:
— merchants shouting their prices,
— guards with gleaming spears,
— children running with a carefreeness he no longer remembered,
— old women with baskets smelling of herbs,
— young men with swords and eyes accustomed to measuring threats.
The crowd moved like a single living creature — with a thousand intentions, a thousand fears, a thousand small secrets.
"So much light… and beneath the ground — only memories and shadows.
These people have no idea what lies beneath their feet.
And how easily… everything could burst apart."
His inner sun trembled, but stayed calm — a small flame that still did not wish to become a storm.
Kai nudged him lightly with his elbow:
— Your head is still underground, my friend. But your feet are already up here. Try not to trip over your own fate.
Hinokami smiled faintly.
— I feel… — he said quietly — that the more I understand my power… the less I want to burn.
Kai snorted with a laugh:
— For a mage with fire in his soul, you sound almost like an old monk.
— I don't want to make weapons without need, — Hinokami whispered. — If someday… I truly begin forging…
I want to create swords that refuse to kill out of hatred.
Kai stopped for a moment and looked at him strangely, as if seeing his true nature for the first time.
— Swords like that…
that's no longer magic. That's character.
Hinokami went on, as if his voice was coming from a much older place within him:
— Armor that falls apart at betrayal.
Necklaces that give hope… not power.
Items that remind you that you live not only to fight, but to love the world.
"Yes… that is the mission I want to give to every piece of metal I touch."
Kai walked silently for a few steps, then finally whispered:
— If there's ever a world where such weapons exist…
I would like to see it.
"And I would too," Hinokami thought.
Then a voice rolled between the buildings.
Deep. Heavy.
As if the stone itself had spoken.
— You truly speak like a smith, boy.
Not like a mage, not like a hero… but like someone who understands the responsibility of the hammer.
The two of them turned.
A man stood leaning against the wall. But he wasn't just a man…
He was like part of the city itself — of stone, of metal, of time.
Gray cloak.
Leather apron, covered in soot.
Hands — rough, scarred from years of work.
Face — as if carved with a hammer.
Eyes — like the blood-red moon, watching everything without a twitch.
Kai whispered, a shadow of respect in his voice:
— The Gray Watcher…
The man raised an eyebrow:
— That's what those call me who don't know better.
My real name is Valkarion.
The name struck Hinokami like a blow on an anvil.
"Valkarion… the Smith of Smiths…
The man of whom legends say he spoke with metal before he spoke to people."
Kai bowed slightly:
— The one they accuse of having heard metal breathe before he heard a human voice.
Valkarion smiled barely noticeably:
— Legends exaggerate.
I simply listened carefully.
His gaze locked onto Hinokami — like a hammer on heated steel.
— I listened to you. Swords that refuse to kill.
Armor that will not tolerate betrayal.
Necklaces that give hope…
These are not the dreams of a child.
These are the decisions of a smith.
But you do not command the flame you want to put into these things.
Hinokami felt his inner fire draw back for a moment, as if recognizing a greater flame.
— What do you want from us? — he asked.
Valkarion raised his hand.
In his palm a flame appeared — heavy as stone, alive like the breathing of an ancient beast.
— From you… I want a choice.
And from him — a steady stomach.
Kai sighed:
— So I'm going to be throwing up again. Wonderful.
The flame expanded.
The world around them blurred like molten glass…
And when it reformed — they were no longer in the city.
A vast underground hall.
Stone. Metal. Purple light.
Silence that seemed like a living being.
There it was — the Forge of the Purple Eye.
Kai barely whispered:
— No doubt… it's real…
— Legends are rarely invented. — said Valkarion. — People simply prefer to call the truth a "fairy tale".
In the center, a great furnace burned.
Its flame was strange — neither red nor orange, but as if colored purple by the crystals themselves.
Valkarion stood before them like a judge.
— From here, there are two paths.
To remain a mage who hides his power.
Or to become a smith who accepts it and shapes it — even if it changes the world itself.
"If I choose the first — I will betray the fire within me.
If I choose the second — I will have to bear the consequences."
The warmth in his chest thickened.
— We will forge. — said Hinokami.
Kai slapped his forehead with his palm:
— Of course… Legends always start this way. And it's always the fools in them who die.
Valkarion smiled like a man who knows more than he says:
— Good. Let us begin.
Time was no longer day and night —
but blow after blow.
Hinokami raised the hammer.
The metal drank his heat, but not his soul.
It refused to "awaken".
Valkarion stood behind him like a shadow:
— Harder. Not with strength — with intention.
But Hinokami was not struggling with the metal…
He was struggling with himself.
"If I wake this blade… one day someone might raise it against an innocent.
I don't want to be the cause of a death… Not a single one."
— You are wrong. — said Valkarion. — You see only the worst. And thus you give it power.
A weapon does not carry out someone else's will — it carries out a mission.
And then… everything changed.
Valkarion placed a metal blank on the anvil.
— Listen to me. This is important.
When you pour your fire into the steel —
do not think of fears.
Give it a task.
He whispered to the metal — not words, but truths:
— Protect the defenseless.
— Sever betrayal.
— Refuse a strike born of hatred.
And then Hinokami understood.
"I am not giving the weapon power.
I am giving it direction."
When his fire flowed into the metal this time…
The metal trembled from within — like a heart that is waking up.
Valkarion nodded:
— This is your first true weapon.
Not for war…
but for choice.
But after the first success, his body simply… gave out.
Hinokami took a step forward. Then another.
The world spun.
The furnace pulsed like a gigantic heart.
"I'm burning… inside… why?"
His knees softened.
The hammer slipped from his hand.
The world stretched like softened metal.
— Hinokami! — he heard Kai. Or maybe Lisan. Or both.
He fell.
Darkness.
But soft.
The inner sun flared before him — spherical, alive, calm.
And for the first time…
it spoke in words.
"I believe in you."
Hinokami froze.
The voice was warmth, but also strength.
Confidence, but also gentleness.
"I believe you will succeed in connecting with me."
The light expanded, as if touching him.
"I believe you will understand me.
But not yet."
The sphere pulsed in the rhythm of hammer blows.
"First, you must be forged."
The sun went out.
And the darkness returned him.
When he opened his eyes, he was lying on the cold floor.
His head rested in Kai's lap.
Lisan was above him.
Valkarion — nearby, motionless like a statue.
— He's alive. — said the smith. — His flame has simply decided to speak.
Hinokami sat up slowly.
— The fire… told me… that it believes in me.
Kai burst out:
— Well, perfect! So your fire is more optimistic than I am!
Lisan laughed softly.
Valkarion stepped forward.
— Since your fire speaks to you… then…
tomorrow we begin the true forging.