While they spoke, Dain explored the workshop. He moved to a pile of swords in the corner, his eyes drawn to one in particular. He pulled it out, the steel scraping against its neglected neighbors. It was a massive blade, a single-edged sword a meter and a half long and twenty centimeters wide, with a thick spine. The long handle was wrapped in sturdy leather, but the blade itself was dulled by a fine layer of oxidation.

  “How much would you sell this for?” Dain interrupted, holding up the sword. “It looks like it’s been abandoned.” He ran a thumb over the dull edge. “Why hide such a well-made sword? What’s its story?”

  Sadness clouded Daypan’s face. He sank into a chair. “That was a custom order.”

  “The client never claimed it?” Dain guessed.

  “Yes. He died before I could finish it,” Daypan said, his voice heavy.

  “That’s…” Eira whispered, her hand coming to her chest.

  “Why not sell it? At least you could recover some of the cost,” Dain asked practically.

  “I tried,” Daypan answered, staring at the floor. “But no one wants it. They say it’s too heavy, too plain.”

  “Ho?” Dain reacted, hefting the blade to test its balance. “It’s meticulously made. I like it.”

  “Well, if you like it…” Daypan said, looking up with a glimmer of hope. “I’ll give it to you for 50,000 Peri.”

  It was still far beyond their budget, but the quality was undeniable—superior even to the swords they’d seen at the armory.

  “Do you accept trade-ins… or installment plans?” Dain asked weakly, offering his current sword.

  Daypan took it and inspected it with a practiced eye. “This is… a training sword made for the royal guards. How did you get it?”

  “A friend… my brother’s legacy,” Dain said, a nervous tremor in his voice as he tried to obscure his past. “My brother was a royal guard. He died on the Black Night and left this to me.”

  “You didn’t steal it, did you?” Daypan questioned, his gaze intense.

  “I promise you, I did not,” Dain swore, meeting his eyes.

  “If it’s as you say…” Daypan’s expression softened.

  “But how did you know it was a royal guard’s weapon?” Dain asked, curious.

  “My family runs the biggest forge in the city. We supplied weapons to the royal guards and several major clans,” Daypan explained. He pointed to a small, familiar marking on the hilt of Dain’s sword. “This sword… was my first creation at my family’s workshop. It holds a lot of memories for me.”

  “What happened? Why did you leave?” Eira asked softly.

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  “My father exiled me.”

  “Why?”

  “After the Black Night, when my mother and sister died… I told my father I wanted to be on the front lines. I wanted to fight, too. He said I wasn’t gifted, that I was crazy. He told me being a smith was the only way I could help. So I told him I wanted to make a real magical sword.” Daypan’s voice was thick with old pain.

  “That’s why you’re learning runes,” Eira said, realizing the connection.

  “A magic sword just conducts magic from the user. It’s useless if you aren’t gifted,” Dain pointed out. “How could you fight with it?”

  “What I want to create isn’t an ordinary magic sword,” Daypan stated, his passion igniting. “I want to create a sword that has its own innate magical property, its own effect. A sword that would allow even a person without magic to cast spells.”

  “That’s a revolutionary idea!” Eira exclaimed, amazed.

  “My father thought it was the dumbest idea he’d ever heard. I asked him to support me, but instead, he exiled me.”

  Tears welled in Eira’s eyes, glistening before they traced silent paths down her cheeks. She saw not just a smith, but a dreamer cast out for his vision, and her heart ached for him.

  “Making something like that would require more than just rune knowledge. The materials would be incredibly rare,” Dain said, thinking pragmatically.

  “Yeah, I’m researching that, too. But most of my customers only look for cheap, simple blades,” Daypan said, frustration evident in his voice.

  “I see. Well, whenever we come across rare ores, we’ll bring them to you,” Dain said.

  “But I don’t have much funding,” Daypan admitted.

  “How about this: we trade swords, so you can keep your first creation and its memories. We’ll add 5,000 Peri, and a promise to sell you any ores we find at the lowest price,” Dain offered.

  “And we’ll give you learning materials for runes,” Eira added. “Personally written by me. How about that?”

  “Really?” Daypan’s voice cracked, and a single tear escaped, tracing a clean line through the soot on his cheek.

  “It’s a deal, then?” Dain extended his hand.

  “By the way, we haven’t introduced ourselves properly. I’m Eira, and this is Dain,” Eira said with a warm smile.

  “It is nice to meet you, Eira, Dain,” Daypan said, his voice thick with emotion as he shook Dain’s hand. “Can you wait a little longer? I’ll sharpen and polish the blade for you.”

  “That would be great,” Dain accepted.

  Daypan took the greatsword and began working it over a whetstone, the rhythmic sching-sching sound filling the workshop.

  “Who was the adventurer who commissioned this blade?” Dain asked gently.

  “His name was Odrak. He was a warrior and… a friend of mine,” Daypan answered, not looking up from his work.

  “That’s so sad,” Eira comforted.

  “He was the only one who believed in me. He promised to bring me rare ores and materials to help me make progress on my goal, but…” Daypan’s voice hitched, and he fought to control his emotions. “He didn’t come back.”

  “We want to be your friends,” Eira offered, her voice soft but firm. “We’ll support you, just like Odrak did.”

  “You have a noble goal, Daypan. We’re happy to help you achieve it,” Dain added.

  “Thank you,” Daypan whispered. This time, he didn’t try to stop the tears. They fell freely, dropping onto the cool steel of the blade and sizzling faintly against the warm metal as he honed it to a razor’s edge.

  When Daypan finished, the sword gleamed, its true craftsmanship finally revealed. They bid their farewells, leaving the forge with not just a new weapon but a new friend. Like Zowell, Daypan carried a noble goal—one that, if achieved, could change the world. Eira felt a profound sense of purpose settle within her. She knew, with unwavering certainty, that she wanted to help others achieve their dreams. To support their noble goals and, in doing so, bring a little more happiness and light into the world.