In a short span of time, life began to feel normal again.
The cadets returned to the Magi Academy, and regular classes resumed. Out at sea, the Starsong remained anchored offshore—still under construction, with each class contributing their share of labor and enchantments. Progress was steady, and the ship grew more impressive by the week.
Cane kept busy—smithing, studying, training. Their group had started taking the occasional mission, earning field experience between lessons. Quietly, steadily, the first-year team rose through the ranks, now positioned in the middle of the top-tier cadet pack.
Small improvements added up.
They refined techniques. Reinforced gear. Upgraded their heartguards with the cat-eyes enchantment—a subtle spell that sharpened vision in low light.
A month had passed since the execution.
Cycle break was just around the corner.
Telamon had started visiting Cane weekly. The two would sit for tea—Cane answering questions about his village, his childhood… and listening as the Archmage shared his own stories. Strange, scattered tales about ancient cities and forgotten skies.
In preparation for the Starsong's first voyage, Telamon had hired a full crew. Their inaugural mission would take them to Loramo Harbor—Cane's personal errand the stated purpose, but both knew there would be more to it.
Meanwhile, the masked smith's forge had gained a reputation all its own.
Commission orders flooded in. Townsfolk lined up outside his door daily. Word had spread all the way to the capital—people whispering about the nameless forge, the one run by a masked craftsman with a gift for metallurgy and enchantment.
After a long day at the forge, Cane locked the door, unfastened the blacksilver mask, and set it in its place on the wall.
He stepped through a rune portal and returned to his room at the Academy.
Tomorrow was the weekend break—Elohan had mentioned a special training mission—and there was also a major auction coming up. Cane had been preparing for it in secret, crafting Glacial Frost weapons using his refined Salt Alloy.
He'd just finished a quick shower and was toweling off his hair when a knock sounded at the door.
"It's open," he called.
The door cracked open. Sophie peeked inside, smiling. "Found you."
"Was I missing?" Cane crossed the room and swept her into a hug.
"Yes! You disappeared all day."
Cane felt a flicker of guilt. The mask gave him freedom—but it cost him time from his friends.
"I was collecting elements," he explained. "Spent most of the day submerged in ore, purifying it. The psi-rune gets muted when I'm fully immersed."
"All mine now," Sophie murmured, wrapping her arms around him.
"Works for me."
He gave a sharp whistle.
From the corner, Moxie stirred—her long black coat bristled like wire. She rose, tail wagging, and trotted over to Sophie, pressing her head against her stomach with affectionate insistence.
"You're taking Moxie to your village during break?" Sophie asked.
"Yeah," Cane nodded. "She's already big enough to handle an armed attacker. The trip will be good training."
Sophie scratched behind Moxie's ears. "Guess that makes her a knight-in-training."
Cane smiled, letting the warmth of the moment settle into him like coals in a forge.
Cane walked hand in hand with Sophie, Moxie trotting obediently at their side. The boardwalk beneath them creaked softly with each step, the salt breeze tugging gently at Sophie's curls.
"You and Melina seem to get along," Cane said casually.
Sophie smiled and gave a small nod. "She doesn't want to be called Princess. Just Mel."
"In private, that's fine," Cane chuckled. "But I wonder how long she can really hide out at my estate."
Sophie's expression turned thoughtful. "Who do you think was behind the attack?"
Cane shrugged. "I'm not in the loop on that one. Common sense says it's exactly what it looks like… but I'm not sure I trust common sense."
She leaned in closer to him, resting lightly against his side. "I don't even want to think about it."
"Agreed." Cane squeezed her hand. The whole situation was messy—Melina hadn't even met her uncles yet, and now their first impressions would be clouded with suspicion.
There was a pause before Sophie spoke again.
"Can you tell me about your village?"
The question came softly—she wasn't ready for him to leave, not yet, but she wanted to know more of what he'd return to.
"A few dozen homes," Cane said, smiling at the memory. "Each family had land nearby. Lazy summer days between chores… but if I lingered at home too long, my mother would always find something to do."
He laughed.
"I learned quick—once you're done with your tasks, don't come back till evening meal."
"Your parents were farmers?"
"Sort of," he said. "We didn't sell our crops. It was food for the winter. We trapped, fished, odd jobs here and there. My mom sold honey when she could."
"What kind of traps?"
"Small game mostly," Cane said, then grinned. "One of my favorite summers, my Da said crops would be thin and told me to hunt and fish every chance I got."
"I can see you stalking rabbits," Sophie teased.
"Rabbits?" Cane puffed out his chest. "That's for babies. I went after bear."
"Are you serious?"
He shrugged playfully. "Only some of it."
"What happened?"
"I'd wandered too far and heard a fight. Two bears—one big male going at it with a female."
"Why would he do that?"
"Didn't know at the time, but I learned later—male bears sometimes kill cubs."
Sophie's face dropped. "That's horrible. Did he kill her?"
"No. They were fighting near a bluff. Both tumbled off, but she caught a ledge and held on. The male didn't. Fell all the way."
"So you didn't actually hunt a bear," she said, smiling slyly.
"Well… I ran home, got my Da. We went back and butchered it. Hauled the whole thing home."
He laughed at the memory.
"Funny thing—the pests ruined our crops that year. But that winter? I ate better than ever. Our cellar was full of dried meat."
"Was the mama bear okay?"
"Think so. Saw her later at the river with her cub. Looked healthy enough."
Sophie smiled, a tender softness in her eyes. "That's a good story."
After walking Sophie to her home, Cane sent Pudding and Moxie out to hunt. Tor had recently started pairing the bonded animals together—using the falcon's aerial view to guide the young wolfling along the best paths. It was working surprisingly well.
Cane watched them vanish down the trail, then turned to see Fergis step into the open doorway, sweat beading his brow from another round of sword work. Ever since Cane had gifted him Azar, the fire mage had thrown himself into daily practice.
Fergis:"You favor the trident and axe. Ever thought about the sword?"
Cane: "I've had some training with a cutlass. Might shift to a longsword, but I think of it more like picking the right tool for the job."
Fergis wrinkled his nose. "My sister's got a bit of a crush on you."
Cane (laughing):"Violetta? You're making that up."
Fergis:"Maybe. But she keeps asking about you. It's always 'How's Cane?' instead of 'How's my favorite brother?'"
Cane:"You idiot. She just wants me to make her a blade. Asks every time I see her."
Fergis paused. "Oh. That's it! She totally wants a sword like mine."
Cane:"You look way too happy about that. What, don't want me marrying into the family?"
Fergis grinned. "That would be awkward. If you're desperate to join the family, though—I've got cousins."
Cane:"Shit. What are you even talking about? I have a girlfriend. Meanwhile, you spend your nights talking to your spellbook."
Fergis (deadpan):"Mona is not just a spellbook."
Cane shook his head, still laughing.
After their banter faded into companionable silence, Cane sat cross-legged on the floor and pulled out the artifact taken from Dread Ravena. Cold Iron. Its familiar weight brought him calm as he slipped easily into immersion.
The world of Cold Iron was always the same—deep blue darkness, lit from above by the twin stars that hovered motionless in his sky.
Time passed differently here.
He spent hours exploring, adjusting, learning. Not by force or spellcraft, but by instinct and repetition. He'd never dared test the artifact's core ability: time manipulation.
"With my luck," Cane muttered, "I'd fast forward forty years and wake up an old man. Or worse… a toddler."
He chuckled, then frowned thoughtfully. Sophie probably wouldn't like either.
Within the Cold Iron, Cane could shift more freely now—movement had become fluid, almost second nature. His constant exposure was teaching him things. Not lessons with structure, but truths, absorbed slowly and deeply.
As always, the twin stars above him were fixed—white and blue—opposing forces pulling apart. And in the space between them: something else. Dark red. Slowly growing. Still a mystery.
The dreams had stopped.
If they were visions—ancestral memories meant to guide him—maybe he'd reached the limit of their current use. Or maybe he hadn't advanced far enough for more. Or maybe...
"Or they were just dreams," Cane said aloud. "And nothing more."
He turned his focus to the nodes.
Four known. Always easy to find.
But something stirred in his mind.
"The nodes only appeared after I gained my second aspect. What if that's the key?"
His gaze lifted toward the blue star. He'd never done more than glance at it before. But now… he was drawn in by its vibrant hue, the way it pulsed with latent power.
Cane reached out—not to force it, but to adjust it.
Brightening didn't work. But dimming it?
"Damn…"
As the blue star dimmed slightly, the white one brightened. Curious, he reversed the effect—dimming the white star.
The blue flared back to life.
Three nodes responded immediately—each pulsing as if stirred from sleep:
One red. One blue. One green.
They weren't just passive.
They were alive.