Cane left the forge and went off in search of Sophie.
"Want to go for a walk through the merchant district?" he asked.
Sophie was folding her things neatly, prepping for their rift back to the Academy later that evening. "Do we have time?"
"The rift won't open until after dinner," Cane said with a smile.
The Ironheart Estate sat sandwiched between the merchant and noble sectors—claiming neither, yet brushing shoulders with both. By exiting through the east gate, they arrived at the edge of the sprawling market square.
Cane laced his fingers through Sophie's as they stepped into the lively crowd. He picked a careful path through the press of people, shielding Sophie from the jostling chaos as the crowd surged and swirled.
A few shoppers bumped into Cane, bouncing off like he was rooted to the earth. Others stopped outright, doing double-takes at the soft starlight glow in his eyes.
Sophie pointed to a vendor with a bright red cart and a tower of candied apples. "Let's share one."
Cane nodded and tossed the vendor a few silver coins—more than the apple was worth, but he didn't mind.
He stopped suddenly, expression tightening.
Sophie blinked. "What is it?"
Cane's posture shifted as he scanned the street. "Something's off. Can't put my finger on it, but… stay close."
"Gladly," Sophie murmured, looping her arm through his.
The sensation didn't fade. If anything, it sharpened. A subtle tension settled in his spine—a direction, not just a feeling.
"West," Cane said under his breath, turning slowly.
Then he spotted it—a raven perched atop the general store at the far edge of the square. It sat motionless, too still for comfort. Watching.
He didn't make a scene. Just turned toward home, pulling Sophie gently along with him.
They walked in silence back to the estate, the apple forgotten, and the raven never leaving its perch.
Cane faked a frown as Sophie popped the last piece of the candied apple into her mouth.
"Wasn't that supposed to be our apple?"
Sophie froze, a guilty blush spreading across her cheeks. "Um… yes."
She leaned up on her toes and kissed him softly. "Better?"
Cane smacked his lips dramatically. "Fantastic."
Sophie giggled and swung their joined hands as they walked, her pleated dress swaying with each step.
"What was wrong in the marketplace?" she asked.
"I think we were being watched," Cane said, his tone quiet. "According to Elohan, ravens make the best spy pets. They're everywhere, and they've got excellent hearing and vision—not to mention an unusual intelligence."
"I'll keep my eyes open next time," Sophie said. Then, after a beat, "Too bad Pudding wasn't with us. He could've chased that bird off."
"You're right," Cane smiled. "From now on, I'm bringing Pudding everywhere we go."
Sophie tilted her head. "I heard you ran thirty-five miles this morning."
"Now that you remind me," Cane said, stretching, "I do feel a bit tired."
"Go clean up and rest a little. I'll come get you at dinner."
Sleep came quickly. The moment Cane closed his eyes, the dreams began—those strange, vivid fragments of memory and metal that served as his secret metallurgy training.
In the dream, a boy barely into his teens stood holding a strip of steel. His hair was tow-blond, his eyes bright and questioning.
"Instructor Miradoon," the boy asked, "how come I can see the nodes but not use them? It's been three years…"
Cane noticed the boy had two sword-shaped aspects glowing over his head—one flickering, one steady.
The man beside him, Miradoon, appeared ageless. His eyes were deep with knowing, his ears faintly pointed, as if balanced between human and elf.
"Even with two aspects, interacting with nodes is rare," Miradoon said gently. "I've only ever mastered one."
"What is it?"
"Magneto. As the name suggests, it turns any metal into a powerful magnet."
"Can you show me which one it is?"
Miradoon nodded and placed a hand on the boy's head. Their world shifted instantly into twilight blue—a realm Cane recognized: high-carbon steel. Dozens of nodes shimmered into view.
"That one," Miradoon said, pointing.
Cane memorized it. Magneto.
The dream faded. Cane's eyes opened.
"I saw it," he whispered. "And… I recognized the others too. Shatter. Heavy."
Reaching into his ring, he pulled out a steel blade and immersed.
What had once been hidden now flared like a star. Magneto. Clear as day.
He didn't activate it—not yet. Instead, he stared at it, thinking.
If bonding oxidized remnants reverses the node's effect… then would Magneto become… repulsion? A blade that forces other metal away?
The door creaked open.
"I was going to wake you with a kiss," Sophie said, smiling from the doorway.
Cane immediately flopped onto the bed and let out a loud snore.
Sophie's laughter filled the room. She stepped closer and kissed him softly.
"Time to wake up."
Cane opened one eye, smirking. "Already?"
The group enjoyed a delicious dinner before drifting into the courtyard, basking in the cool air and relaxed conversation. The glow of lanterns flickered along the stone paths as laughter echoed into the evening.
Captain Livaldi arrived with his mercenary crew, men and women who carried themselves with quiet danger—lean, seasoned, and armed even at rest. They would be accompanying the Sweetwaters home in two days alongside a wagon train of materials.
Clara:Who are those guys? They look like badass mercs.
Cane:That's exactly what they are. I hired them to guard the Sweetwater caravans.
Sophie turned toward Cane, her eyes soft with gratitude. "Thank you, Cane."
"It's fine," Cane replied, but his eyes had already found Elohan, standing near the edge of the garden. "Back in a bit."
He approached, noting the elf's attention on the trellises. "You're growing snowpeas?"
"Yes," Cane admitted. "Love them. Got two questions for you."
Elohan raised a brow. "This should be interesting."
"Can elves and humans interbreed?"
Elohan blinked. For once, the calm slipped from his expression. "What? Where did you even—?"
"So they can," Cane muttered, satisfied. "Second question: have you heard of someone named Miradoon?"
Elohan flinched as if struck. "How do you know that name?"
Cane quickly explained—his metallurgy dreams, the instructor who appeared, and Telamon's theory about inherited memory or training passed down through blood.
"This is important," Elohan said suddenly. His body glowed faintly, and a shimmering barrier formed around them, sealing them from view and sound. "Never speak that name aloud again. If Miradoon appears in another dream—anything, Cane, anything you remember—tell me."
"Alright," Cane said, sensing how deeply this affected him.
Elohan hesitated. "You said you saw him. What did he look like?"
"I can do better." Cane pulled a small square of aluminum from his storage ring and immersed without a word. Twin stars ignited overhead, casting long shadows over the courtyard. Spud approached and sat nearby, ears alert.
Beneath the starlight, the metal twisted and reshaped, forming a raised relief—a perfect likeness of the man from the dream.
Elohan stepped forward, fingers brushing the image. "This… is better than any imprint I've ever seen."
"Keep it," Cane offered.
The rift back to the Academy pulsed open behind him. Cane turned toward it, joining the others as they stepped through.
Elohan remained behind, watching them vanish. He had no need for rifts—traveling by foot took little time for someone with centuries behind him. To him, the walk was nothing.
He turned the square in his fingers, his face unguarded, softer than Cane had ever seen.
"Giving a notorious thief a gift?" he murmured to the image. "Are we friends now?"
Spud padded over and leaned gently against his leg. Elohan scratched the hound's ears, sensing his sister's familiar magic woven through him.
With a quiet sigh, he turned toward the gates.
"Am I even capable of friendship?" he asked the darkness—and then walked on.