Chapter — The Hall of Echoed Flame
The gates of the Obsidian Chamber sealed behind them with a dull, resonant boom, like the final beat of a war drum. Silence followed, so heavy it could be worn like a cloak. Only the quiet tap of boots on polished obsidian stone accompanied the trio as they were led back through the echoing corridors of the Academy's underbelly.
They had survived the Board's scrutiny—barely.
No punishment. No interrogation. Instead… a choice.
A warning veiled in reward.
They were to keep the eggs. Privately. Unregistered. The Board would pretend not to know—but made one thing very clear: if any threat arose from them, or if the boys lost control, the consequences would be absolute.
In return for their silence, and their success, the Board had made one additional request. A final stop before rest.
Kael.
The Forgemaster.
The man who built their weapons—who welded essence into steel and pulled the soul of magic from ore.
But this time, they weren't visiting to get something fixed.
They were going for a rebirth.
—
The forge hall roared like a living creature. Heat blasted their faces the moment the great iron doors opened. Magic-infused bellows exhaled with a thunderous rhythm, and streams of fire surged like dragons through ceiling-bound channels. Molten rivers sloshed beneath reinforced glass grates, lighting the floors with a constant flicker of orange-gold.
Sparks danced through the air like fireflies drunk on fury.
At the center of it all stood Kael.
Back turned, cloak tossed over a rack of steaming tools, his muscular frame bathed in flame-glow. Bare arms slick with sweat. Gauntlets engraved with hammer-runes hummed softly as he worked, each strike of his enchanted hammer producing a ringing clang that reverberated across the chamber like the heartbeat of a god.
He didn't look up when the boys entered. He didn't need to.
"I felt the shift in the forge three nights ago," he said, voice gravel dragged through lava. "Whatever you three faced… it cracked something loose in the flow of elemental current."
He finally turned. His eyes burned—not with heat, but clarity. Like a man who saw too much through the veil.
"I assume this isn't just a social visit."
Ethan stepped forward, lowering the pack from his shoulder. The motion made him wince, but he said nothing. He crouched carefully and set the satchel down. Inside, he could feel the eggs—faint pulses of warmth, like whispers of heartbeat.
Nick looked around warily. "Are we… alone?"
Kael grunted. He raised his left gauntlet and flicked his fingers. Instantly, half the forge went dark. A pulse of runic light carved a circle of silence around them, cutting off every scrying attempt, echo, or magical trace.
"Now we are."
Ethan straightened. "We were told to come here by the Board."
"Told," Kael repeated, his lips twisting into something between amusement and irritation. "Of course you were. And let me guess—they told you to 'report for elemental recalibration,' didn't they?"
Asher blinked. "Wait, that was code?"
Kael rolled his shoulders and turned back toward the forge. "That was their way of saying your weapons are no longer suited to what you've become."
He waved one hand, and three weapon racks rolled forward on stone wheels. Emberfang, Zephyrfang, and the Spellmirror Daggers all rested there—but they were broken. Or rather—taken apart.
Each weapon was dismantled into pieces—hilts separated from cores, blades removed from sockets. Floating chunks of refined elemental steel and essence-glass hovered in stasis above their respective workstations.
"What the hell—" Asher started.
Kael cut him off. "You fought like hell. Your weapons responded. But they were never meant to evolve with you. You wielded them like mortals would… but you're not anymore. You've tapped something deeper now. The forge felt it."
He turned fully toward them again. "So I'm not reforging your weapons."
A pause.
"I'm remaking them."
The fire behind him flared—no longer just orange, but shot through with blue, violet, and traces of raw lightning. It flickered in rhythm with the floating cores of their blades, drawn to their resonance.
"Using elemental creation magic," Kael added. "Forgemastery known only to a handful in this age."
Ethan narrowed his eyes. "Why go that far?"
Kael stepped toward them, each footfall sending small sparks dancing around his boots. "Because those eggs you're carrying… they're not just alive. They're listening. And they've already begun imprinting."
The boys tensed.
"Relax," he added. "The Board won't track them. The enchantments on that satchel are beyond even the Archon's detection spells. You're safe."
"But how do you know about the eggs?" Nick asked warily.
Kael chuckled low in his throat. "Please. You think I haven't smelt wild essence this close to the flame? You came in here reeking of forbidden magic, unknown bloodlines, and purpose. You didn't have to tell me. The forge told me everything and do you think hiding it in your storage ring would escape the detection of the academy."
Asher raised a brow. "Wow. Does the forge also gossip about who's dating who?"
Kael ignored him.
He moved to the racks and raised his hands. One by one, the broken weapons rose into the air. Flames leapt up to surround each, not to burn, but to shape. Sparks spiraled like runes around each core, carving inscriptions into the steel mid-air.
"I'll need three days," Kael said, eyes focused on the shaping fire. "Three days, and your new weapons will be born—not forged. Summoned. Elemental spirits bound to them through magical creation, not physical welding. You'll feel it when you hold them."
He glanced over his shoulder.
"And when they awaken… the bond won't be easy to break."
"Like the eggs," Ethan muttered.
Kael didn't reply—but his gaze said enough.
As the trio stepped back from the forge, the boys exchanged a look.
Even Nick's usual cool had cracked. His brows were furrowed. Ethan's shadow flickered once behind him, unbidden. Asher's hands twitched as if trying to remember the weight of a weapon he no longer held.
They were changing.
And whatever hatched from those eggs… whatever rose from their reforged weapons… would only accelerate that change.
Kael turned back to his work without another word, lost in flame and hammering.
Behind him, the air shimmered.
Runes whispered.
And three destinies twisted deeper into fire.