Things seed to be going smoothly for Kallen, and sohow, the fact that he had killed Nestor had turned out to be the perfect catalyst for everything that followed.
Nestor’s death loosened the grip nelaus had over the underground—or more specifically, over their minds. It allowed the shadows in their hearts to fester, giving Kallen room to slide into their thoughts unnoticed.
nelaus’s presence beca fleeting—as he managed the showroom of sorts on the surface, he now returned only at dusk, leaving Kallen the rest of the day to do whatever he pleased.
It shortened his training ti, yes, but it accelerated the speed of his plans.
Knock! Knock!
Kallen raised an eyebrow, then stood and opened the door.
A girl, maybe fifteen, stood there with a tray, and an assortnt of scraps that could only be described as leftovers. She had pale green skin and a nervous posture, eyes darting like she was both here willingly and desperately trying to flee.
"Thanks," Kallen said, smiling faintly, taking the tray. He was about to close the door when he noticed she hadn’t moved.
She just stood there, hesitant and uncertain, as if caught between her feet and her thoughts.
He raised a brow again.
Of course, this wasn’t their first interaction. Since that first day, Kallen had been slowly planting thoughts into her head—gentle nudges, small suggestions—and watching her reactions. Studying and shaping her.
"You want to co in?" he asked, lips curling slightly.
Her pale green cheeks flushed deep crimson, spreading down her neck like spilled wine.
"Let’s stay out then," he offered, stepping outside and plopping down to the ground with all the elegance of soone who simply didn’t care.
She followed, sitting beside him in silence, her tray forgotten between them.
Kallen began to eat, slowly, calmly. After two bites, he glanced up and arched a brow, clearly asking without words: Are you going to talk or not?
She froze.
Then, suddenly, stood. "I’ll go get you food," she blurted and darted away like a startled animal.
Kallen watched her go, shrugged, and returned to eating. This wasn’t new. In fact, they’d had more half-aborted visits. She had a habit of acting like she wanted sothing, then running off like she rembered sothing urgent.
Which is why he was surprised when she returned barely a minute later—with a tray of what Kallen could only describe as luxury compared to the slop he’d been fed since arriving here.
He eyed the food, then her.
She looked almost proud. Nervous still, but standing straighter.
Kallen accepted the tray without question and began eating with more enthusiasm this ti. She bead and sat down beside him again, more confidently.
A quiet comfort settled between them, interrupted only by the occasional sound of cutlery clinking against the dish.
When he finished, he looked at her.
"Thank you," he said. He felt better already—stronger. The food was rich in nutrients, and his body, ever-efficient due to his regeneration trait, was already processing it rapidly, pushing energy where it was most needed. His thinning fra felt warr, more alive.
She nodded, still glowing with satisfaction.
"Yula!" Aeneas’s voice rang out from a nearby room, startling her.
She sprang up like a frightened kitten.
"Sorry," she mumbled to Kallen, barely audible, before scurrying off.
"You’re not really the girl you are," Kallen said with a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.
For the briefest second—just a split second—she froze.
Then continued ahead, as though nothing had been said.
Kallen’s eyes followed her, the amusent in them deepening into sothing else.
’Interesting.’
---
The forge echoed with the rhythmic pounding of a hamr striking tal— oddly ditative for this late into the night.
Kallen stepped inside, eyes adjusting to the glow of the furnace. A lone silhouette worked near the anvil, frad by flickering embers. The fire cast moving shadows across the walls, as if the forge itself were alive, breathing and pulsing with heat.
The silhouette turned slightly at the sound of approaching footsteps.
Democles raised his head, eyes narrowing when they t Kallen’s figure stepping casually into the light. The boy made no attempt to conceal himself—there was little darkness to hide in anyway. The furnace lit almost every inch of the forge, bathing it in a dance of gold and deep orange.
Democles’s expression soured, but he said nothing. A mont passed, then he exhaled sharply and returned to his work.
Kallen leaned silently against the wall, saying nothing either. His gaze, however, was fixed squarely on the orc’s every movent.
Minutes dragged on, filled only with the sharp clang of hamr on steel.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
The silence between them grew dense, until at last Democles muttered, "What do you want?"
Kallen raised a brow, and answered innocently. "Nothing."
Democles scowled but said no more.
He went back to pounding the glowing tal, while Kallen kept watching, eyes intense.
His pupils followed every motion, every twist of muscle, every shift in grip, every strike of the hamr. The way the tal bent and yielded beneath the precise force, how it compacted, folded, strengthened.
He imprinted all.
With a final strike, Democles put down his hamr, and let out a turbid breath.
He lifted the glowing tal and plunged it into an oil bath. The reaction was instant—viscous bubbles erupted, the steel hissed violently, and smoke curled into the air like wraiths escaping the blade.
The forge’s temperature rose noticeably, the heat pressing against skin like a living presence—but neither Kallen nor Democles reacted to it.
After it cooled Democles began the tempering.
He heated the tal back up, and plunged it back to the oil again. Repeating the process; heat—cool, heat—cool, over and over, until the blade had been toughened to his satisfaction.
Each pass refined it further, like a ritual of patience and precision.
After the tempering, he moved to a dynamis infused, precise belt sander, where he grinded the tal into shape, and sharpened it till it’s edges glead.
Then, without ceremony, he wiped the tal down, revealing the obsidian sheen of a polished black greatsword, glimring faintly beneath the forge’s glow.
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