Sophie paged through reports from across the realm, her eyes catching on a familiar name: The Defiant. She pursed her lips, glancing at Cane resting beside her. He'd grown close to both Captain Rhiati and her first mate, the mermaid Neri.
"I bet that's an exciting life," she murmured. "Sailing the seas, facing life-or-death battles with swords and muskets…" She glanced at him again, voice softer. "I must've seemed pretty boring. I even had you chopping wood."
Cane's voice came sleepily from the bed. "What are you rambling about?"
Sophie froze, blushing faintly. "Just saying… being kitchen help isn't very exciting."
"You're not kitchen help anymore," Cane said, sitting up a bit straighter.
She fluffed and arranged some pillows behind him. "That should work."
"I liked it when you worked in the kitchens," he added. "You were always bringing me stuff."
Sophie smiled. "It's all about your stomach."
"Of course," Cane said with a smug grin.
She leaned back against the headboard. "Have you thought about life after the Academy?"
"Not really," Cane admitted. "I just started my first year—I'm still getting used to everything."
"I worry you'll get pulled into the war."
Cane nodded. "If I'm needed, I'll go. But a lot can change in three years. The war could end."
A knock at the door interrupted them.
"Come in," Sophie called, stepping forward as Thressa pushed in a food cart.
"Good morning," Thressa greeted with a polite smile. "Do you want me to stay?"
"I can manage from here, thank you." Sophie smiled back and closed the door.
Cane watched as she uncovered the trays and began piling food onto a plate. "What about you, Sophie? Have you thought about staying on here after we graduate? Or… is there something else you'd want?"
Sophie paused. "It's silly. Just an old dream I had when I worked in the kitchens. You'll probably laugh."
"I won't," Cane promised.
She handed him a plate and fork, then sat beside him with her own. "I used to imagine running an inn. Not in the city—more like a countryside waypoint. Somewhere quiet, between destinations."
"Would you serve food too?"
She nodded. "Second floor would be guest rooms, lower level for meals. Tables, booths. Nothing fancy, just… warm. Welcoming."
Cane smiled, chewing thoughtfully. "That does sound nice. Do you still want that?"
Sophie hesitated. "So much has changed. I can't imagine leaving now. My parents' tailor shop is suddenly famous, I have a job making announcements, and my boyfriend is the most famous cadet in the Academy."
He chuckled softly. "The inn still sounds nice. I could set up a blacksmith shop next door. With an attached stable."
Sophie looked at him for a long moment, her expression soft and full of something shining. "You already have a smithy… and an estate in the capital."
"Doesn't matter," Cane said, setting his plate aside. "As long as you're there too."
After a morning of rest, Cane felt the stirrings of restlessness. Outside, he could see Pudding swooping at the two young gryphons in wide, lazy arcs. Sophie had left to handle the afternoon announcements, leaving him alone.
"I'm feeling better," Cane murmured. He was still a little dizzy, but moving around no longer drained him. "The rebonding clearly wiped me out… but why? Was it activating all three nodes? Or the rune inversion—flipping a mythic glacial frost into fire?"
He pulled on a sleeveless shirt and stepped onto the hidden transport rune, arriving in the smithy.
"I'd bet on the rune," he muttered. "Rebonding oxidized remnants after node activation feels like part of the process... unless I'm doing it wrong and it's not supposed to decay into rust."
Chimi chirped excitedly when Cane donned the blacksilver mask and fed the forge. Settling at his workbench, he accessed his storage ring and withdrew two swords—the ones carried by the Strix.
He immediately sensed the toxic aura clinging to them.
"This doesn't feel like a poison rune," he said aloud.
Starlight flared above, and Cane immersed. The poisoned metal greeted him with an emerald glow, the world around him humming with danger.
Waves of green toxin surged forward—but with a thought, Cane halted them, freezing them mid-motion.
"This is metal," he said, voice steady. "You are not my match."
The starlight grew stronger, illuminating the depth of the poison. It was… beautiful. And deadly.
The familiar nodes emerged: Shatter, Heavy, Magneto. But then—something new. A fourth node, pulsing subtly. Beckoning.
Curious, Cane reached out and touched it.
It flared.
Power exploded in all directions. The emerald waves shattered free of his control, rushing at him like a tidal surge.
Blue starlight burst forth, washing the world in cyan. Cane unmuted the metal, allowing his sound to flow in, confronting the wave head-on.
Sweat poured down his brow as he strained to purify the poisoned blade. Instead of erasing the embedded rune, he copied it—then accelerated its growth until it ruptured, twisting apart and shattering into dust.
The emerald world had turned cyan, but the storm remained.
With effort, Cane withdrew from the metal.
The sword was slightly damaged—but perfectly balanced, its edge still razor-sharp.
He re-immersed, approaching the storm's center. "I activated a node… but the metal didn't oxidize. Why?"
He found Magneto and activated it. Instantly, the sword dipped—its blade drawn to the workbench like a lodestone.
Still no rust. No breakdown.
Leaving the cyan world, Cane studied the sword.
It was fine. Magnetized—but intact. Excellent balance. No visible degradation.
Then came a flash of insight.
Starlight blazed. The nodes lit up again.
"The power node," Cane whispered. "That's why. Activation destroyed the metal before—because it had no fuel. It cannibalized the element."
With a thought, he deactivated Magneto. Relief flickered across his face.
"Power first," he said softly. "Then you can turn the others on or off as needed."
He attempted to deactivate the power node.
Nothing happened.
He lifted the sword and waved it lightly. The answer became clear.
The power node wasn't limitless. It fed everything—but its energy was finite. Over time, the weapon would wear down… and oxidize.
His senses told him this blade would likely remain potent for five, maybe six years.
Cane exhaled, storing the weapon back in his ring. He hung the mask on its hook and stepped onto the rune portal, reappearing in his room moments later.
"Power. Shatter. Heavy. Magneto," he said to himself, still feeling the echo of the cyan world. "The power node changes everything."
Cane slipped on a buttoned shirt and sat at his desk, rolling a charcoal pencil between his fingers. He stared at the blank parchment for a moment before beginning to write.
"If we adapt the blunderbuss into a breech-loading weapon that fires encased cartridges," he murmured, "we could enhance Clara's effectiveness—give the team another tooth."
A knock at the door broke his train of thought.
"Come in."
Fergis stepped inside, face lined with concern. He was followed closely by Telamon, Brammel, and Ignasius.
"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Fergis grinned, clearly relieved to see Cane upright.
"I was until a few minutes ago," Cane replied. "Is something wrong?"
"Lad…" Brammel leaned in, his eyes squinting under heavy brows. "What did you do to that sword?"
"As I said yesterday," Cane began, "after some experimentation, I developed a process that inverts the current properties of a metal."
Brammel snorted. "Aye, I heard that. But it doesn't explain why Azar is ridiculously light, strong as mithril, or why it repels other blades. Fergis spent the morning schooling our melee instructor."
Fergis smirked. "Clara did ask us to beat him up."
"Right," Cane chuckled. "I forgot about those."
He folded his arms. "The properties you noticed—lightness, enhanced durability, and magnetic repulsion—are the inverses of three nodes: Shatter, Heavy, and Magneto. But there was actually a fourth inversion during Azar's creation."
Brammel's mustache twitched with excitement. "Lad… what in the world is Shatter, Heavy, and Magneto? You don't have to tell me if you'd rather keep it close."
Cane shrugged. "I'll show you."
He left out any mention of the power node.
"There are nodes hidden within metal. Under starlight, I can see them as clearly as if they were etched into the surface."
From his storage ring, Cane produced a fist-sized block of iron and set it on the desk.
"Nodes…" Brammel breathed. "I've read ancient scrolls that hinted at something similar. What happens when you activate one?"
Starlight bloomed over Cane's head as he immersed. Not wanting to overexert, he activated only a single node—Shatter—then withdrew.
The glow vanished.
"I activated the Shatter node." He dropped the block onto the floor.
It shattered instantly—like glass.
"Heavens," Brammel gasped, kneeling to inspect the fragments. "That was iron!"
Within seconds, the scattered pieces began to oxidize, crumbling into rust.
Cane summoned a broom from his ring and swept the debris into a small pile.
"This rebonding process," he said, "requires me to recombine the oxidized particles. If I did that now, the result would be metal several times stronger than the original."
Fergis stared at the pile. "Wait—you made Azar out of that?"
Cane nodded. "After embedding a glacial frost rune and activating three nodes."
He grinned at their stunned expressions.
"I'm pretty sure flipping the rune was what exhausted me."
Telamon crouched, brushing his fingers across the rust. "This is origin magic." He looked up at Cane. "Was any of this covered in your dreams?"
Cane shook his head. "Nodes were mentioned. But nothing about oxidation or rebonding benefits. That part was… trial and error. I'm sure I've messed it up more than once."
"While creating something greater," Telamon replied.
"You should've seen my spar with Ghoulie," Fergis added, laughing. "First time our blades crossed, I disarmed him. The look on his face—priceless."
He mimicked the instructor's voice. "His infamous words before we started were: 'Let's get this over with, fire mage.'"
Cane laughed. "Sounds like you gave him exactly what he asked for."