CHAPTER 50: CHAPTER 50: SPARKS IN THE WORKSHOP

Their last stop was the Artificer’s Hall.

It was just as Arden expected, crowded, noisy, and full of people hunched over projects with the kind of focus that made them forget the world existed.

The air smelled faintly of metal and burnt parchment. Here, Greyhold’s weapons, scrolls, talismans, and other crafted goods came to life. Even in a small town, talent had its own corner, and Arden needed the best pair of hands he could find.

He asked around, drawing a few irritated glances from artificers who clearly didn’t appreciate their work being interrupted, until someone finally pointed him toward Master Belric, a short, middle-aged man whose mind, people claimed, rivaled the mythical dwarves.

Arden called to him twice, but the man didn’t look up. Whatever he was working on had his full attention, right up until something went wrong.

A sharp puff sounded, and smoke curled from the blade on his bench. With a grunt of frustration, Belric tossed the dagger aside.

Arden caught it before it hit the floor. The moment his fingers wrapped around the hilt, his Archforge Insight stirred, showing him the flaw, too much essence condensed along the edge, disrupting the enchantment’s balance. He glanced at Belric, who was now aware of their presence.

"You were trying to get a layered bind without compromising the edge," Arden said, turning the blade in his hand. "But the conduit path’s too narrow. You could reverse the inlay order, let the runes breathe between the channels. It’s simpler, and it won’t fight the core weave."

Belric just stared at him, blinking. "You figured that out in seconds?"

Arden shrugged. "I’m here because I need your help."

The man tilted his head. "Young artificer, I could take you under my wing, no problem."

"I’m not an artificer," Arden said, a faint smile pulling at his mouth. "That’s why I need you."

Belric hesitated, then waved him on. "Alright, what do you want?"

"A custom sleeve for a spellcloth," Arden replied, nodding toward Nyra.

Belric smirked. "Ah... a craft for your beautiful girlfriend. We do that around here."

Nyra flushed red before quickly pulling off the spellcloth and tossing it to him. He caught it neatly and gave it a quick inspection.

"Good quality," he said. "Fifteen thousand sen, and that’s with a discount for the help earlier.

Come back in an hour, and try not to sniff out more of my secrets before then."

Arden’s mouth curved into a knowing smirk as they turned to leave.

With an hour to spare, Arden led the group through the merchant stalls. They sampled snacks from different vendors, buying whatever caught their eyes, laughing as they compared which ones were worth the coins and which weren’t.

It was a rare break from the tension of the outlands, and Arden didn’t mind seeing them enjoy it.

Nyra in particular seemed lighter. She was just fifteen, but life had forced her to grow up too quickly. Now, she tugged at his hand, pulling him toward shops to try out new outfits or sweets. Arden followed without complaint.

Even Rael and Zephyra looked like they were enjoying themselves.

The beast’s eyes followed the scent of roasted meat, her tail swaying slowly, while Rael busied himself haggling for dried fruit.

When Arden noticed Nyra eyeing a delicate silver necklace in one shop, he bought it without saying a word and fastened it around her neck.

"It fits perfectly," she said softly, then gave him a light hug. "Thank you for letting me experience a life I never had the chance to."

"There’s more to come," Arden said with a small smile.

Rael stepped forward with open arms, but Arden tapped him on the forehead. "Don’t be sus, man."

"It’s just a friendly hug," Rael protested, though the grin on his face betrayed him. Inside, he felt the weight of Arden’s care, and his trust in him deepened further.

When it was time, Arden gathered them back to the Artificer’s Hall.

"Right on time," Belric said as they entered. "Made this one beautiful for a beautiful damsel like you."

Nyra accepted the finished sleeves with eager hands.

They were woven from a pale, silk-like fabric reinforced with thin silver channels, each etched with fine runes. The cuffs shimmered faintly, and when she slid them on and channeled her aether, the runes lit up in pale blue and white.

A sudden gust of wind swirled through the hall as she raised her hand, the temperature dropping sharply. Tiny flecks of frost danced in the air before melting away, leaving Belric looking satisfied.

"Not just pretty," he said. "Your spellcloth will respond sharper and faster now."

Arden paid the man and nodded in thanks.

"Come to me next time you need work done," Belric said. "But no discounts. And you’ve got the eyes and mind of an artificer... shame you awakened into something else. Still, if you ever want lessons, my door’s open."

"I’ll think about it," Arden replied.

By the time they reached Greyhold’s gate, the sun was climbing toward noon. One of Boro’s men spotted them and greeted them with a bow before leading them to their employer.

Boro clasped Arden’s hand firmly. "Keeps to time. I like that."

Arden used the moment to introduce Nyra, Rael, and Zephyra in turn.

"I’ve heard plenty about you," Boro said, his gaze lingering on Zephyra for a moment too long.

The beast’s ears flattened slightly and a low growl rumbled from her throat.

"Sorry," Boro said quickly, looking away. He then turned to his own crew and called for final preparations. "We leave soon."

Boro laid out the plan as they stood by the wagons. His group had twelve people, two merchants, six laborers who would handle identifying and collecting the herbs, and four guards for protection. The guards weren’t enough for the second zone, so Arden’s party was there to make sure nothing unexpected ruined the trip.

"We’ll take four wagons," Boro said, pointing as he spoke. "Three for my people, the last for yours. You’ll ride at the rear."

Arden nodded. "Fine by me."

"We’ll use the south trail," Boro went on. "Straight into the second zone. Saves time."

"Straight into trouble too," Rael muttered under his breath, earning a faint smirk from Arden.

"Just keep your eyes open," Arden said.

With nothing else to settle, they climbed aboard, wheels creaking as the convoy began to roll out of Greyhold toward the open wilds.

A/N:

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