Illnyea tried not to look like a country bumpkin as she tried to get used to the capital city of Glinburn, pulling her coat closer to fight off the chill of the autumn wind. The constant sound of water gently lapping against the brick wall was distracting, the splashing was ever present no matter where you went, and the scent of salt was heavy on the air, clogging up your nostrils. The canals were filled with long, skinny boats manned by people in thick coats. The drivers called out to people on the street to advertise their services, promising they can get them half way across the city in a mere thirty minutes.

Walking along bricks instead of nicely paved earth was distracting as well. Illnyea wasn't used to not being able to sense the ground below her. Being cut off from her main element was a little disconcerting, but Illnyea tried to focus on putting on one foot in front of the other as she followed Arnold over a bridge to get to a Northern section of the Artisan District. He didn't look twice at the boat drivers, and Illnyea appreciated that. She had never actually been on a boat before and thought getting on one right before meeting a bunch of strangers sounded like she was asking for trouble.

A sign caught her attention as they crossed, one that advertised the Equinarial Tournament.

"Calling all hopeful heroes," the sign read, "to trust their luck to the Lady of the Sky and battle in the Equinarial tournament! Embody your heroic spirit and prove you are worthy of the glory and title of champion!"

It had the date of when one could sign themselves up for the tournament and Illnyea committed it to memory. It was simple to participate, all you had to do was provide the name of your heroic costume and show up to the qualifying free for all.

"You got your costume ready?" Arnold asked when he noticed Illnyea's gaze, adjusting the strap of his bag.

"No," Illnyea said, feeling a little bubble of shame rise in her. She had kept talking about how she was going to join the tournament, but she had been so busy that she hadn't actually prepared her costume yet. Illnyea had a rough idea of what she wanted to wear, as Brixiron Keyyra was well known for wearing gold and purple robes as she defeated the necro-dragon, but she had wanted to talk with Priscilla about how to adapt that outfit into one she could actually fight in.

"It's alright, brat," Arnold said. "If you don't fail spectacularly, we might be able to solve that problem for you soon."

He walked confidently through the streets, barely pausing to check where he was.

"When was the last time you've been in the capital?" Illnyea asked, easily keeping pace.

Arnold let out a long breath, scrunching up his nose in thought.

"Must have been over twenty years ago," Arnold said, "back when I told my master I knew enough to start my own shop and she kicked me out on my ass."

"From what you've told me about her," Illnyea said, "she sounds rather… rough."

Arnold snorted, giving Illnyea an amused smirk. "Brat, find that shiny spine of yours and straighten it right up — if you keep trying to talk so diplomatically, they're going to eat you alive."

Illnyea only had enough time to frown before Arnold came to a halt, gesturing to a green building in front of him. "Here's your second home away from home for as long as we're stuck in this sorry place."

The building was two stories tall, but wide, twice as long as its nearest neighbor. The walls of the shop seemed to have an odd texture to them, shiny but slightly rough like the surface of a quartz. There were large glass windows with a dark tint at the front of the building, too dark to see within. Above the door was a sign stating, "Malachite Expanse" in blocky letters that looked to be made from a dark green gem welded onto the black metal backing.

Arnold strode confidently forward and Illnyea hurried after him. He didn't pause to look at any of the items within the glass display cases, and Illnyea was only able to steal a quick look. She saw countless pieces of jewelry like necklaces and earrings, an array of every type of weapon Illnyea could name off the top of her head, and what looked like a complete set of porcelain dishes that had koi fish constantly swimming along the edge. Arnold nodded at a man behind the counter, and walked through a dark green door labeled "Employees Only."

The moment that Illnyea walked in, her skin prickled from the ambient magic that was radiating through the air along with a frenzied energy. There had to be at least thirty desks arranged in a darkened back room, each with a person hard at work. Some seemed to be inscribing items with runes, others carefully placing a gem within their casings, and one intense woman seemed to be attempting to weld two metal planks together. As she applied heat, the air burst into a flurry of rainbow sparks and electric yellow smoke began to rise. Her neighbors all cursed and leaned away as the woman tried to hurriedly constrain the chaos.

Arnold rolled his eyes, muttering, "Fucking novices."

He moved past the mess like it didn't bother him and continued to the back of the room, eyes locked onto one specific point.

Following Arnold's gaze, Illnyea saw that he was looking at someone rather than something.

A squat, round woman dressed in long, flowing green robes that matched the color of the building was talking to one of the artificers. She turned when her companion's eyebrows raised and Illnyea realized that she was a dwarf. The woman had the tell-tale gray skin the children born of stone did, contrasting her stark white hair. Her hair was pulled back into a severe bun, and her beard was woven into a single long braid that wrapped around her neck without a single strand out of place. She had a square face, thick eyebrows and full lips behind her beard.

The woman narrowed malachite green eyes, raising a single white eyebrow as Arnold approached.

"Well, well, look at who has dragged his sorry ass back here," the dwarven woman said as she crossed her arms, showing that she had a different shining ring on each of her fingers. Her voice was rumbling and raspy, like churning gravel on a dark night. There were deep lines around her eyes and mouth, suggesting she was older, but Illnyea had never met a dwarf before so she couldn't accurately judge the woman's age. She heard that dwarves could live up to nearly two hundred years old before they were considered elderly, but most of her knowledge was secondhand from rumors shared in the adventurer guild. Dwarves were less reclusive than elves, but they mostly stayed in their native lands in the southernmost continent of Nuhuan.

Arnold eyed the dwarven woman right back, crossing his arms as he straightened, snapping, "You look like you have a foot in the grave already, Lanme, do you plan to work yourself to death?"

Lanme's under eyes did look a little sunken in, like she hadn't been sleeping properly, and her cheeks were a little sallow under her impressive beard.

"It's still Master Lanme to you, brat," Lanme said with the edge of sharp reprimand in her voice. "You better address me with respect if you don't want to be thrown out of my workshop after waltzing in like you own the place."

Illnyea couldn't help her wide eyes as she glanced between the two of them.

Was this Arnold's master? Her personality certainly seemed to match his stories, but Arnold had said he was taking her to meet some acquaintances — not that he was introducing to his master!

Lanme seemed to finally take notice of Illnyea. Her green eyes narrowed as she looked Illnyea up and down. Illnyea suddenly wished that she had had Priscilla help pick out her outfit so she could have made a better impression.

"Who's this?" Lanme asked, her tone a bit cooler than when she had spoken with Arnold.

"A kid with stubbornness and magic for spades," Arnold said, clasping Illnyea's shoulder, "a decent mind for math, and a severe allergy to the concept of giving up once she starts something. She has potential and reminds me of you, so I figured I'd bring her round to meet you."

Illnyea's eyes went wider at the comparison and Lanme's eyes narrowed further.

"What do you know of artificing?" Lanme asked, finger tapping against her firm bicep, the sapphire gem glimmering in the low light in a way that Illnyea knew that it must be magical.

Illnyea took a deep breath, taking comfort from the way Arnold squeezed her shoulder before dropping his hand.

"I don't have any experience with artificing," Illnyea said, "but I've been learning enchanting under Arnold for the past month with the hopes that I will one day be able to create artifacts myself."

"And what do you think is the most important thing you learned from him was?" Lanme asked, barely giving Illnyea enough time to breathe.

"That if you don't know what will happen when you finish an enchantment," Illnyea said, "then you shouldn't be messing with this type of magic."

"Why?"

"Because the risk of catastrophic failure is far too high," Illnyea said, settling into the same rhythm of answering back to back questions she had with Arnold, "which can lead to irreparable damage to your surroundings."

"Spare me the textbook answers," Lanme said with a dismissive wave. "What do you think?"

"Anyone who risks lives in the pursuit of knowledge," Illnyea said confidently, "is someone who doesn't deserve the power that's been placed in their hands. Enchanting is a powerful tool that can make the world better, and it should be treated with respect, not bandied about like a toddler with matchsticks."

Illnyea hadn't realized until she finished speaking that the entire room had gone silent. She squared her shoulders despite feeling the multitude of eyes on her.

She would stand by her answer because it was the truth. If the people here didn't agree with her, well, Illnyea would thank Anrold for the introduction and politely tell him she was only interested in learning from him.

Lanme's gaze was unreadable, her finger tapping steadily against her bicep.

"If you were to make only one artifact," Lanme said slowly, "what would you make?"

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"A shield," Illnyea said without hesitation.

"Not a weapon?" Lanme glanced deliberately at Illnyea's side, where a sword rested. Illnyea knew that the city was safe, but slinging the sheath across her hips while getting ready was second nature after traveling on the road.

Illnyea shook her head.

"I won't lie and say I don't enjoy fighting," Illnyea said, "but having an enchanted sword will only make me better at killing. I don't want to only have a sword to rely on because when I encounter difficult situations, I might start to think that I have to use my sword to solve it because it's so powerful instead of searching for another solution."

Lanme's eyes were impassive, but her hand reached up to stroke the end of her braided beard.

"Where'd you find a brat like this, Arnold?" Lanme asked, finally looking away from Illnyea.

"Through a series of unlikely events," Arnold said with a shrug. "An old friend asked me for help, and one thing led to another and I ended up traveling up north. When I saw Illnyea reading a book on artificing that typically only masters have, I figured I'd intervene before she blew us all sky high by experimenting."

"I would not have experimented by myself," Illnyea said, frowning at the unfair accusation. Well, it was mostly unfair, because once Illnyea was finally able to decipher what was written on the page, she would have done small but safe experiments. Now, she knew that plan was stupid, but what was a girl to do when she didn't have a teacher?

"Yeah," Arnold snorted, "only because you couldn't understand any of it."

Illnyea glared at her teacher, flushing at the way he so easily guessed her thoughts.

"Give it a rest, Arnold," Lanme said, cutting through the argument before it could really begin. "This girl seems to have a better head on her shoulder than you did at her age. You didn't hesitate to enchant anything you could get your grubby hands on and I can recall many a poor desk that suffered a fiery fate."

Arnold's face scrunched up in annoyance. "Come on, I wasn't that bad."

"You're right," Lanme agreed easily. "You were worse."

Arnold scowled.

"So what's your name, kid?" Lanme asked.

"Illnyea," she said. When she didn't follow it up with a family name, Lanme raised an eyebrow.

"Do you have any plans for today, Illnyea?" Lanme asked.

Illnyea shook her head.

"Good luck, brat," Arnold said under his breath, chuckling.

"I don't know why you're laughing," Lanme said, "you're going to be working right alongside her."

"You know," Arnold said, taking a step backwards, "I was just going to introduce the two of you and get going—"

Lanme's hand snapped out, wrapping a hand around Arnold's elbow. She smiled without a hint of warmth as she said, "It seems you've grown foolish in our time apart, brat, and you need a lesson on manners. But first, we must determine just how much Illnyea here needs to learn."

Illnyea was given a trial by fire as she was swept up in the whirlwind of Lanme's teaching.

First, Illnyea sat down at a hastily cleared working desk and had a parchment full of runes placed in front of her. She was asked to identify as many as she could, copying them onto another piece of paper to prove she knew how to write them properly. Then, she had to explain its meaning, the most common magical effects they were able to create on their own, and how those effects were affected by their placement within a rune sequence.

That was repeated for all nine of the runic alphabets that were known and studied, of which only four she had even seen before. None of the runes looked anything like the ones that had been used by Raven, but Illnyea barely had time to tuck that fact away into her brain with how much information was thrown at her. She felt like she was a few arrows short of a quiver with how much she simply didn't know.

Lanme collected the papers, staring at them coolly before asking, "How long have you been studying runes?"

"About three weeks," Illnyea said, trying to keep calm as she suddenly felt inadequate.

Lanme hummed in acknowledgement without saying a word.

The next test was to identify materials when they were laid out on a table before her. Illnyea did best with the gems because she had seen plenty transported by her parent's company and the flowers by nature of growing up in Meadowyar. Thanks to Priscilla, Illnyea was able to differentiate between three of the five types of horns, and knew the difference between reptilian claws and mammal claws, though she didn't know exactly what creature they came from.

But with everything else, she did abysmally. She knew what leather was, but determining the exact type just by sight was impossible. There were nine different tree branches laid out and they were so similar that Illnyea thought she was seeing triple. Don't even get her started on the chunks of rocks — rocks were rocks and any further differences were as unknowable to Illnyea as the exact number of stars in the sky.

Illnyea felt even worse as Lanme stoically wrote down her results, and despaired that she yearned for a time where she had to recite facts about runes.

For the final test, Illnyea was handed a fist sized chunk of metal and asked to pour as much magic as she could into it.

"Are you sure?" Illnyea asked hesitantly.

"It's an orichalcum alloy," Lanme said, "so it won't shatter. This is just to measure your current potential."

Illnyea glanced at Arnold, who just nodded with a pensive expression. "Go all out, brat."

Deciding to trust that Arnold wouldn't encourage her to do something that would destroy the room, Illnyea closed her eyes and reached for her magic.

Let's do this, Illnyea thought.

Breathing in, she slowly began to pull upon her reserves of magic. Besides the fight with the deer and occasionally lending her power to Arnold to give his enchantments and extra oof, Illnyea hadn't used much of her magic lately. It rumbled happily at her call, like a cat greeting its owner home. Like a fluttering butterfly, it rose up to twist around her heart a few times before flowing down the lightning scars on her arms. It pooled in her hands, sparking around her knuckles and fingertips, ready to sink down into the chunk of orichalcum at her command.

As Illnyea remembered what she was holding, her thoughts slowed and the magic paused.

This was the largest amount of orichalcum that she had ever seen before, even if it was an alloy, and it was heavy in her hand and on her conscience. This metal was the reason that so many innocents had been slaughtered, the draw of power too much for others to ignore. This metal incited greedy hearts to tear down anyone and anything standing in their way. This metal was the reason that Sulaiman was an orphan, left to fend for himself on the streets.

If this metal had never existed, Sulaiman could have led a happier life, one where he could hold his head high and didn't have to watch his back constantly. He could live a life where he wasn't hated and punished for something that wasn't his fault, wasn't anyone's fault except those in power who saw a treasure and decided they wanted it all for themselves.

People never turned orichalcum into shields or armor or even into plating to protect city walls, no, orichalcum was always forged into weapons. Those weapons were highly coveted because they could be used to kill swaths of people at once, leaving blood and death in their wake. If the tales were true, the weapons frequently changed owners as people were willing to do anything to get their hands on them.

A slow rage began to bubble in Illnyea's gut, one that turned her steady foundation of magic into slow moving magma as the pressure built.

Her emotions colored her magic, soaking into what she already pooled in her fingertips, before it happily dived into metal. Orichalcum was a greedy metal, soaking up every last drop Illnyea had to offer, and she scowled at being reminded about what made this metal so desirable. She wished it would just disappear, that every last scrap of orichalcum ore was thrown into a volcano so no one could ever get their hands on it again.

The magic flowed out of her faster and the metal shook within her hands. No one said anything as a sharp, metallic ringing went through the air, so this was probably supposed to happen.

Until she was asked to stop, Illnyea would continue to pump her magic into this wretched metal. She hated that she had to do this, wished there was a different way she could have done this without having to use a metal whose history was written in blood, and the hatred sang as it joined the bubbling river of magic.

The ringing intensified to a pitch that made Illnyea's head hurt. It was nearing the last of what she could spend without passing out shortly after, but she still had more magic left to give, and she wanted to be done with this as soon as possible. After this, she could go home and take a nap and see what Kavil and Priscilla ended up getting on their shopping trip.

With one final push, Illnyea drained herself of magic as much as she dared.

There was a sharp crack and Illnyea's eyes snapped open.

"I…" Illnyea stared, uncomprehending of what just happened.

The orichalcum had been split in half, the metal still shaking from crack. The metal was mostly a smooth, dark grey, but along the split, Illenya thought the metal was slightly lighter.

Illnyea didn't think orichalcum could be broken like this, even if it was an alloy, especially not when it involved magic, and her brain was stuttering as she tried to figure out how on earth she had done this.

"Sorry I broke it?" Illnyea said awkwardly, grimacing as she looked up.

There was a resounding silence that had Illnyea wincing.

Everyone was staring at the metal.

Each of the enchanters at the desks had turned around, their eyes wide and jaws agape. Several had pushed their glasses up, as if they could see clearer without them. Arnold had pushed off the wall to step closer, his eyebrows raised so high it pushed his goggles over his hairline.

Lanme had taken a step forward since Illnyea last saw her, her hand outstretched between them, like she had meant to pull the metal from Illnyea's hands. The look of utter bafflement had settled over Lanme, as if she had just watched Illnyea transform the metal into doves and successfully convinced them to perform an aerial dance routine.

Arnold let out a loud barking laugh that broke the silence, doubling over as he slapped his thigh.

"Gods damn!" Arnold howled. "You were acting all high and mighty about it being an orichalcum alloy, and Illnyea fucking shattered it!"

"She did not shatter it," Lanme said promptly.

"Fine, it's just in two chunks, not shattered," Arnold said, his smile smug as he sounded so very pleased with what happened, "and I bet your ass you've never seen that before, Master Lanme."

Lanme had no quick rebuttal for that.

Illnyea swallowed, because Lanme was now staring deeply into Illnyea's eyes. There was a heaviness as Lanme's eyes narrowed as she assessed Illnyea, like she could summon the answer with that alone. Her gaze trailed over Illnyea's cheek, down to the collar of her shirt, then down her arms and lingering on the fingers that were wrapped around the orichalcum.

With a start, Illnyea realized that Lanme's gaze had traced the lightning scars from her magical overload. They were faint against her skin, nearly unnoticeable if you didn't know to look for them.

"You're lucky to be alive," Lanme said as she finally looked Illnyea in the eyes. "Those almost reach your eyes."

Her tone of voice was matter of fact, and there was an undercurrent of pressure from the unasked question.

How?

"I am," Illnyea agreed.

But she wasn't going to answer that question. Illnyea herself didn't understand exactly what happened, didn't know why or how her stranger had pulled her back to her own body, but that, frankly, wasn't any of Lanme's business.

This may be Arnold's master, but Lanme was just a stranger to Illnyea. So were all of the enchanters that were leaning forward so they could better hear every word that was being exchanged.

None of these people needed to know about what had been one of the worst moments of Illnyea's life no matter how curious they were.

Despite the increasing pressure that leaked from Lanme, Illnyea just straightened her spine and stared right back.

After nearly a minute of tense silence, Lanme inclined her head.

"Please give me the alloy," Lanme said.

Illnyea waited just a beat to let Lanme know the only reason she was obeying Lanme's words was because Illnyea wanted to. The skin around Lanme's eyes crinkled at that, though Illnyea couldn't quite intercept if it was amusement or irritation.

The dwarven woman examined both halves with the same care one appraised diamonds.

"Illnyea," Lanme said as she looked up, pronouncing each syllable of Illnyea's name slowly, like she was committing it to her memory. Her lips slowly parted to reveal each of her thick, blunt teeth as she smiled at Illnyea.

A shudder went down Illnyea's spine as Lanme continued, "I think teaching you is going to be very interesting."

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