Hendricks smiled—a rare expression that suggested genuine satisfaction rather than just his usual professional approval.
"Start with the basics," Hendricks said. "Learn to forge a normal blade. Master so conventional techniques. Understand tallurgy, heat treatnt, edge geotry, balance distribution. Build your foundation really well and learn to determine properties that can enhance the structure of the materials you work with."
"How long until I can create sothing functional?" Bright asked.
"It’s probably going to take you the whole sester to learn basic forging boy," Hendricks estimated. "A year to achieve so form of competent craftsmanship. Several years to master any technique sufficiently that you can innovate beyond its established thodology."
"That’s longer than the Academy attendance," Bright observed.
"Then you continue learning after graduation," Hendricks replied. "Weapon design isn’t a sester project. It’s a lifeti pursuit. You’re not creating an adequate tool for imdiate use. You’re beginning a journey toward forging weapons that embodies a mastery you haven’t achieved yet."
That’s humbling, Bright thought, recognizing that even with his fusion talent, even with his growing spatial power, he was still a beginner in a craft that demanded decades of mastery.
"But I need a weapon now," Bright said. "At least sothing functional for my current deploynts while I’m learning toward an ultimate design."
"Then we make an interim solution," Hendricks decided. "A weapon that serves its purpose while you build real skill. I’ll guide your forging the sa way I guide everyone else."
He glanced at the workstations.
"It won’t be perfect. It won’t fully express your capabilities. But it will work—and it will carry you while you learn."
Hendricks moved to the equipnt storage, retrieving materials that made Bright’s spatial awareness prickle—tals that reflected soul-force instead of absorbing it, alloys that reacted subtly to essence flow, components whose refined properties made it obvious that Academy resources far exceeded anything Vester could have provided.
"Celestine," Hendricks said, turning to the noble girl. "You’re helping."
Celestine blinked. "Sir?"
"Your house docuntation has proved to be useful," Hendricks continued. "And"—his mouth twitched with faint amusent—"Morgan needs soone to compete with. Soone who’ll force him to keep his standards high instead of settling for just ’good enough.’"
"I’m terrible at forging sir," Celestine protested. "My designs are solid, but my execution is a disaster. I’ve lted three projects already this sester."
"Then lt the fourth," Hendricks replied flatly. "That’s how you learn."
He pointed toward the workstations. "Morgan—your bench. Celestine—yours. Both of you draft so preliminary designs. Account for material properties, soul-force channels, enhancent matrices. Bring your sketches next session."
His gaze hardened. "We’ll critique. Revise. Iterate. Repeatedly. Until the designs are worth turning into physical weapons."
This will take ti, Bright realized as there were no shortcuts, no quick fixes but Just thodical developnt.
But that’s exactly what I need.
"Yes sir," Bright and Celestine answered in unison.
They returned to their respective workbenches—Bright with growing understanding of the challenge he’d undertaken, Celestine with obvious enthusiasm for a collaborative project.
"This is going to be fun," Celestine said, already sketching so preliminary concepts. "Competing to see who creates a better solution. Learning alongside soone who’s actually interesting rather than just another obnoxious noble."
"You’re a noble yourself Celeste," Bright pointed out.
"But I don’t think birth determines capability," Celestine replied. "I think capability determines capability. Birth just provides resources to develop it. You’re proving that every ti you exist—an outpost recruit advancing faster than most noble candidates. That’s worth studying. Worth learning from. Worth competing against."
"Competition accepted," Bright said. "Let’s see who designs a better weapon. My shoddy commoner improvisation versus your noble systematic thodology."
"Loser buys the winner dinner at that restaurant in the Academy town," Celestine proposed. "The one with actual good food."
"Deal," Bright agreed.
They worked in focused silence after that—sketching, revising, trading brief observations when one noticed a flaw or possibility the other had missed. Different approaches, different instincts, gradually converging into sothing more refined through shared iteration.
From his forge, Hendricks watched without interrupting, satisfaction evident in his posture if not his expression.
Two promising students, he thought. One with talent that needs discipline and structure. One with resources that need restraint and rigor. Both learning the sa lesson.
Weapon design was never just tallurgy or technique. It was introspection made physical. A negotiation between identity and intent, power and restraint.
Forge your weapon. Weapon ant for yourself. By yourself. Of yourself.
Morgan was beginning to understand that. Celestine was reinforcing it through challenge rather than instruction.
Hendricks allowed himself a small smile.
So students are worth the ti. Worth the patience. Worth pushing past efficiency in favor of mastery.
Ti will tell, he thought. It always does.
The workshop continued its industrial symphony—hamrs ringing, forges burning, students learning that creation required destruction, that mastery demanded failure, that excellence erged from sustained effort rather than sudden revelation.
And Bright sketched his weapon design—beginning a journey toward forging a tool that embodied spatial manipulation, that expressed what he had beco, that would grow alongside his developnt rather than lag behind it.
This is going to take years, Bright acknowledged. Years of patience, discipline, and systematic work—everything a survival mindset usually discards in favor of imdiacy.
But it’s worth it. Worth learning. Worth investing in. Worth becoming soone who creates instead of only accumulates.
That’s a different kind of power. A different kind of excellence.
And I’m ready for it.
One sketch at a ti. One step closer to a weapon that completes what I’m becoming.
That’s the goal. That’s what forging identity actually ans.
Outside the workshop, the Academy continued as it always did—training, testing, filtering candidates through pressure and loss.
Inside, Bright learned sothing combat alone could never teach him.
To create rather than rely destroy.
To forge rather than simply survive.
To beco a craftsman as well as a combatant.
This was growth beyond raw power accumulation.
Transformation that didn’t co from killing or endurance alone.
The forge burned.
Designs took shape.
Identity began manifesting—in steel.
One careful sketch at a ti.
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