The Artificer’s Guild carried the sa noise and heat as always, yet in its heart Belric looked anything but lively. He was slumped on a chair behind a desk, hair matted with sweat, arms folded like he hadn’t moved in hours.
When the group approached him, he barely raised his head, his eyes dull, until they landed on Arden and the others.
"About ti," he muttered, though the spark that returned to his gaze betrayed him. "I’ve been waiting."
Arden smirked faintly. "Doesn’t look like it. You look like you’ve been waiting to die."
Belric grunted, but the corners of his mouth twitched. He snapped his fingers, calling to a younger artificer in the back. "Bring them out."
The youth disappeared behind a heavy curtain, and the sound of dragging crates filled the room. Arden’s party stood quietly, tension building as if the air itself was thick with their anticipation.
Rael swallowed, eyes fixed on the crates, while Nyra’s grip tightened on her sleeve. Even Zephyra’s ears flicked forward, her tail lashing once across the floor.
Belric rose from his chair, his sluggishness gone as he threw the cloth off the first crate himself. "We start with the brawler."
Inside rested a gauntlet, its tal glinting silver with veins of blue crystal running across the surface. Sharp engravings traced the joints, faint frost escaping them like breaths in winter, yet sparks of lightning hissed now and then, snapping into the air.
Rael’s eyes widened. "That’s... mine?"
"Try it on," Belric said, waving him over. "Careful, it bites."
Rael wasted no ti, sliding his hand into the gauntlet.
The fit was seamless, like it had been molded just for him. The crystals pulsed, his veins lighting faintly with cold blue before lightning crackled across his knuckles. He clenched his fist, the air answering with a rush of frost and thunder at once.
Belric spoke as Rael tested the weight, his voice carrying pride. "Insulated cores, double-layered conduction, reinforced plating. Ice and lightning don’t mix easily, but with this, one fuels the other. Freeze your enemy, then shatter them with speed. Or strike fast and let the frost root them in place. It’s ant for close combat, just as you asked."
Rael struck forward, the blow bursting with a crack of frost that splintered across the floor before vanishing. His grin spread, the boy almost laughing. "Perfect. This is perfect!" He looked back, voice raised with excitent. "Hear that, Arden? You’ll have to keep up with now."
Arden chuckled. "You’ve been bragging since before we got here. At least now you’ve got a reason."
Rael didn’t care, he kept flexing the gauntlet, already lost in his eagerness.
Nyra stepped forward, impatience clear. "Then show mine."
Belric gave her a look, half-exasperated but half-amused. "Pushy, aren’t you?" Still, he pulled the cover from the next crate.
This ti, what erged wasn’t brute force but elegance. A staff, long and slender, its body of pale steel traced with lines of translucent crystal that shimred faintly between blue and silver.
At its head rested a jagged crescent of ice-forged ore, edges sharp as blades, while smaller winglike fins curved along the shaft.
When Nyra reached for it, the faintest breeze curled around her fingers, laced with frost.
Belric explained as she lifted it, his voice steadier now. "This one took ti. Dual channelling core, carved with stabilizing runes. It draws from your wind to sharpen your ice, and your ice to give weight to your wind. Most elental mages settle for simple focus tools, but this isn’t just a staff. It can block, slash, even strike if you’re bold. A mage’s weapon that doesn’t shy from the front line."
Nyra spun it experintally, the crescent gleaming as wind curled tighter, sharper, then burst outward with shards of frost that lted into the air. Her face lit with excitent, a wide grin breaking through. "It’s... incredible. It feels like it’s answering , not just amplifying ."
Belric’s shoulders eased, her thanks hitting him harder than the praise itself. "Good. You’d better not waste it."
Zephyra padded forward then, her claws clicking against the stone. She tilted her head, eyes fixed on Belric with curiosity. He t her gaze, half-challenged, half-proud.
"Yours was the hardest," he admitted, dragging the last crate forward. "A beast order isn’t like the rest. Your body is already weapon enough, but you asked for sothing more."
He opened the crate, revealing a set of armor, not full plating, but curved bands designed to fit over her talons and forelegs, linked with flexible strips of tempered alloy.
The tal glead with faint orange veins, like embers frozen in stone, while the edges shimred faintly with air currents.
"Fla-resistant layering bound with wind-carved cores," Belric explained. "Strike, and the fire won’t scorch you, it’ll feed into your blow. Move, and the air will sharpen your claws. It’s resonance binding, tailored for you alone."
Zephyra lowered her head, sniffing once before sliding her claws into the pieces. At once her talons glowed faintly, the wind curling tighter while sparks of fla licked at the edges harmlessly. She slashed once at the air, a streak of fire and wind cutting through before fading. A low, pleased growl rumbled in her throat.
Belric smirked. "Good enough for you, beast?"
Zephyra’s voice ca rough, but clear. "Good enough to kill."
That was all she said, yet it made the artificer grin wider.
Finally, Belric turned to the last crate. He hesitated before lifting the cloth, his eyes on Arden. "Yours nearly killed to make."
Arden raised a brow, his smirk faint but sharp. "Then I hope it was worth it."
The reveal drew silence. Inside rested a blade, long and elegant, its steel black with streaks of deep silver that caught the light like running water. The hilt was bound with dark leather, plain but firm, while the guard shimred faintly with etched runes. A presence hung about it, quiet yet undeniable, like it carried more than steel in its fra.
Belric exhaled. "I pulled cores from three ruins, tals I shouldn’t even have had my hands on, and I nearly burned half my forge keeping them stable. But you wanted a blade that could carry everything, and I gave it one. It will answer to every signature you bear, and it won’t shatter trying."
Arden reached down, his fingers closing around the hilt. The air shifted faintly, as if the weapon recognized him, a whisper of resonance curling at his core. He studied it quietly, then gave a faint smile. "Not bad. You didn’t disappoint."
Belric rolled his eyes. "Not bad, he says. This is the finest piece I’ve ever forged."
"Then I’ll make sure it sees more use than dust," Arden replied smoothly, sliding the blade free in one clean motion. Its edge glead, catching the torchlight with a quiet, hungry shimr.
Rael leaned closer, whistling. "Show-off."
Arden tilted the blade, giving him a look. "Better than bragging before you even tried yours."
The party laughed, the tension breaking. Belric only shook his head, though the pride on his face couldn’t be hidden. Their thanks, their excitent, their trust in his craft, it was reward enough. But also they paid heavily for it, as Arden passed him a coin bag.
"I believe that should be enough" Arden said as they turned to leave.
Belric seed to agree also, and for the first ti in days, he didn’t look tired at all.
A/N:
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