With the forge lit, Cane turned to his tools, coating each from head to handle with a thin, gossamer layer of pure steel.
The difference was immediate—like someone lighting a candle in a dark room.
As the steady rhythm of the hammer rose and fell, the forge welcomed him like an old friend. The hour slipped away unnoticed, lost in the embrace of fire and metal.
"I thought I'd find you here."
Cane looked up with a smile, setting his hammer gently aside. "Busy day?"
Sophie stood in the doorway, her green dress catching the morning light, hair tied back with a matching ribbon. She nodded.
"I've set up Mum's sewing suite in the guest wing," she said, eyes bright. "Thanks to Nina."
"Nina's been helping you?" Cane asked, surprised—but not entirely. Nina, from the Olivara Auction House, had always struck him as sharp and quietly generous.
"She has," Sophie replied, stepping closer. "I really like her. We even had lunch together."
"Where?"
"At the Auction House," she said, wrinkling her nose. "There's a little restaurant on the lower level. It was complimentary."
"She wouldn't let you pay?"
"Nope." Sophie smiled. "Apparently, my boyfriend is a big deal at the Auction House."
Cane chuckled as she held out a hand. "Want to walk the grounds with me?"
"Yeah. Give me a second to close up."
He pulled off the leather apron, hung it neatly on the wall, and set his tools back in their places with practiced care.
They walked hand in hand, their footsteps quiet against the gravel path. Conversation flowed easily—Sophie's day of ordering fabric and trim for her mum a pleasant counterpoint to Cane's sweat, steel, and runes.
They passed through the garden, now full of freshly tilled soil, and continued toward a fenced-off section of the property near the western edge.
"What used to be here?" Sophie asked, pointing to the uneven patch of earth. Weathered stone hinted at a forgotten structure beneath.
Cane followed her gaze. "The Archmage said it was an aviary."
"Aviary? That's for birds, right?"
He nodded. "Big enough so they can fly… but enclosed so they can't escape."
Sophie frowned faintly, stepping closer to him. "I don't like the sound of that."
"Maybe I'll extend the garden," Cane mused. "Or build something better."
He bent forward, catching her lips in a gentle kiss—unhurried, familiar.
When they pulled apart, neither said a word.
The light ringing of a bell carried across the compound, soft and musical.
Sophie and Cane exchanged puzzled glances.
"Maybe that's a dinner bell?" Sophie guessed.
"I could eat." Cane squeezed her hand. "I'm glad you're here."
Sophie blushed. "Thanks."
Cane tilted his head. "Why are you blushing?"
"Well… you sounded really sincere. It was nice."
He grinned. "I've got a list of things I need—mind passing it to Nina?"
"Sure." She leaned against him as they walked.
They reached the main house a few minutes later. The double doors were propped open, and Relen stood waiting, calm and formal.
"Good evening, sir," Relen greeted, bowing with smooth precision. "What would you like for your main course? We have pheasant, duck, or venison."
Cane chuckled. "Duck, of course."
Relen nodded, then turned to Sophie. "And you, madam?"
"Oh…" Sophie tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I'll have the pheasant."
"Please follow me."
He led them through the entryway into the formal dining hall, where Fergis, Clara, and Dhalia were already seated.
Cane held Sophie's chair, then took his own. The long table was covered in a clean white cloth. Pitchers of cider and wine lined the center, surrounded by delicate glassware and sparkling cutlery. The place settings gleamed.
Milly approached with a tray. "What would you like to drink?"
"Just apple cider," Cane replied. She poured for him, then moved down the line.
Appetizers were served—small plates of fresh fruit, crisp vegetables, and a noodled soup with a peppery heat that surprised more than one guest.
Laughter bubbled up as the group relaxed.
Clara stared at her bowl, wide-eyed, and kept eating. "Is it like this every meal?"
Fergis grinned, barely hiding a laugh. "No. This is the first meal tradition. The staff are putting on a show. After today, Relen will manage weekly menus based on what Cane wants."
A long cart wheeled in from the kitchen, silver-domed trays clinking softly as they were set in front of each guest. The maids moved gracefully, lifting each dome in turn before stepping back.
"Goodness," Clara said, licking her lips.
Cane closed his eyes as he tasted the duck. Tender, touched with red wine and savory broth. It melted in his mouth. Roasted red potatoes and buttery vegetables rounded the plate.
Sophie peeked at his dish, then took a small bite of her pheasant. "I'm already full and I just started."
Cane laughed. He wasn't sure he'd be eating so much if he hadn't run half the city that morning.
His psi-rune pulsed. He touched it discreetly.
Fergis:You can expect this meal annually. My Da used to tell the staff to take a few hours to enjoy the 'fruits of their labor' afterward. It gives them time to eat together in the kitchen.
Sophie:That sounds nice.
Fergis:I peeked into the kitchens after a first-day meal once. It was really lively.
The group chatted, teasing one another. Dhalia had recovered from training and was smiling as the ribbing bounced between friends.
"Did you get some better shoes?" Clara asked between bites, using a roll to mop up gravy.
"Yes." Dhalia nodded. "And I can't believe how close we are to the shops."
Fergis sipped his wine, posture perfect. "This estate's placement is ideal. It's like a no-man's land—between the nobles and the merchant quarter."
By the time dessert arrived, even Cane was full. A warm bowl was set before him, the smell of cinnamon and apple rising in comforting waves.
"What is this?" he asked.
Sophie tested the texture with her fork. "A peeled, cored apple, marinated in butter and cinnamon, then baked."
"Heavens," Clara whispered, eyes closed after her first bite. "I'm never leaving this place."
Cane nodded, impressed. The entire meal had been an act of care and craft.
Relen approached as they finished. "How was everything, sir?"
"Fantastic, Relen. I've never had a meal so wonderful," Cane replied honestly. "Please thank the cooks and the staff for me."
"Of course, sir."
"And let them enjoy the evening. Give them a few hours off to enjoy the fruits of their labor."
Relen bowed slightly. "Very well, sir. Thank you."
**
Dhalia shivered, teeth chattering as she moved single file along the winding riverbed, hands locked on the rope as if it were her only link to life.
Training had started at dawn.
They'd exited the Noble Quarter with nothing but thirty meters of rope and Elohan's cryptic grin. He'd pointed toward the Gararoul River and said, "Robes off. No armor. No magic or artifacts. Follow the river upstream—and don't let go of the rope."
Easy enough, until the river started shifting. Knee-deep. Then waist-deep. Then chest.
Cold crept into joints. The current grew strong.
"Shit," Clara muttered, hobbling forward after stubbing her toe. "I swear there's a sharp rock out here hunting me."
Fergis, at the rear, grumbled. "I'm a fire mage. This is illegal."
Cane, leading the line, said nothing. He focused on the terrain, choosing each step carefully. The rope snaked behind him: Dhalia next, then Clara, Fergis last. The current tried to pull them apart.
Another hour passed. The world narrowed to breath and stone and the press of water.
Cane rounded a sharp bend—and stopped.
"Shit," he said. "What the hell is that?"
The team paused behind him, craning to see.
"Yavin Falls," Fergis muttered. "Local legend says if you and your sweetheart jump from the top together, you'll live a happy life."
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Cane said.
"Agreed," Fergis replied. "And yet, every year..."
A soft flutter overhead caught Dhalia's eye. The white dove—Elohan's marker—hovered effortlessly ten meters from the falls. Then the elf himself stepped out from behind the cascading curtain.
"There's a path to the right of the falls," Elohan called. "Lunch is waiting—if you reach it in thirty minutes."
He pointed toward a nearby pile of shoes and socks, dry and untouched.
"You may gear up. No magic, no artifacts. Use the rope however you like." And with that, he vanished in a blur.
Cane exhaled and walked to the pile, peeling off his soaked shirt. He tied it around his waist, grabbed his socks and shoes, and sat.
Clara:I hate him.
Dhalia: Me too.
Cane:Let's get moving.
The path was narrow and steep. They climbed in silence, still dripping wet. Dhalia's breath misted with every exhale, her body warming gradually.
Then came the first obstacle—a natural stone step nearly three meters tall.
"Toss me the rope when I get up," Cane said.
He took a few quick strides and leapt, fingers catching the ledge. With a grunt, he hauled himself up and turned.
"Okay. Let's go."
Dhalia coiled the rope and threw it. Cane caught it and wrapped it around his waist, bracing.
They climbed in sequence, rope assisting each step. The next bluff was higher.
"Boost me," Dhalia said, already wrapping the rope around herself.
Cane braced at the base of the wall and cupped his hands. "Step in."
She did, and he lifted—strong arms pressing her up with ease. She grabbed the edge and scrambled to the top.
Clara came next, then Fergis. Finally, Cane climbed last, pulling himself up as the others anchored the rope.
Then they reached it—the wall. At least six meters of sheer stone.
"Damn it," Clara muttered. "You can't reach that."
"Nope," Cane agreed. "I'm the base."
"Of what?" Fergis asked.
"Human ladder. Shoes off."
Fergis groaned but moved into position. Cane braced against the rock and lifted him. Clara followed, then Dhalia.
"Almost—" Dhalia began reaching as high as she could, just as Fergis's legs buckled.
The ladder collapsed. Fergis hit hard but bounced back up, groaning.
But the rope still hung above them.
Dhalia waved from the top. "Made it."
Clara grinned. "This is why you're my best friend."
With rope assistance, they all reached the summit. Cane hauled himself over the edge last, brushing dust from his hands.
At the top, a crate waited. Elohan sat on it like a smug cat.
"Gear up," Cane ordered his trident flashed into his hand. His salt armor shimmered across his form. The others moved to flanking positions, weapons out, eyes wary.
"Not bad," Elohan noted, glancing at the sun. "Cut it close. But you made it."
Clara:I hope there's a bear in that box. I've always wanted to eat one.
Dhalia: I'd settle for rabbits.
Elohan leapt high into the air. A sharp burst of wind cracked the crate apart.
Everyone tensed.
But instead of a beast… a table unfolded. A full meal—fruits, breads, roasted meats.
Cane blinked.
"Decent teamwork," Elohan said. "Creative problem solving. See you all next week."
And with that, he vanished.