The training hall fell silent when Kael stepped through the doors. Conversations died mid-sentence, and dozens of eyes locked onto him as though a ghost had walked in.
"He's alive?"
"I thought the cave crushed him."
"No way he made it back…"
The whispers spread like fire. Kael kept his eyes down, his footsteps steady, even as heat crept up his neck.
Across the room, Jorin stood tall at the front. His sharp gaze swept the hall, cutting the noise down to silence. For the briefest moment, Kael thought he saw the hint of a smile flicker across the teacher's face, quickly buried under his usual stern expression.
"Enough," Jorin barked. "Today marks a step forward. With the beast cores you claimed during the last mission, each of you will forge your first weapon."
Excitement rippled through the students.
"This'll be good—I'm making a spear."
"Earth mace for me. Smash anything."
"Bet swords are better—classic balance."
Kael slid into a seat, feeling the eyes still burning into him. He noticed Feyla near the front; her shoulders eased slightly as she met his gaze, relief breaking through for a heartbeat before she looked away.
When the class began preparing, Jorin moved through the rows, checking the cores. Most were small, basic stones with faint earth patterns—common prizes for first hunts.
Then he stopped at Kael's desk. His eyes hardened, though his voice stayed even. "Step outside with me a moment."
The room erupted with whispers again, but Jorin ignored them, striding to the corridor. Kael followed.
When the door shut, Jorin turned, his tone low, urgent. "That core you hold—it's not like the others. Don't let them see it. Don't let them know."
Kael frowned, clutching the small stone tighter. "It's the one from the cave, isn't it?"
"Yes." Jorin's eyes narrowed. "A Type 3. No one in this class would understand. If the academy knew… questions would come. Questions neither of us can answer. This stays between us. Do you hear me?"
Kael nodded slowly. "I hear you."
"Good." Jorin's voice softened just slightly. "Now… let's forge your weapon."
Back inside, Jorin announced to the class, "Continue. Focus on your own work." His words cut off further whispers as he guided Kael to the forge station, making it look no different than the others.
The furnace roared. Heat licked Kael's skin as he pressed the core into the mechanism. Sparks scattered as molten metal took shape beneath his hands. He worked carefully, molding it into a form that felt right—balanced, light, sharp.
When the fire dimmed, Kael pulled free a short dagger. Plain, simple, but it fit his grip perfectly.
Jorin leaned close, voice low enough only Kael could hear. "This weapon carries an effect. Harden. Strike with it, and it will resist breaking, cutting deeper than its size suggests. Use it carefully."
Kael blinked, heart racing. "Because of the core?"
Jorin gave the faintest nod. "Exactly. And no one must know where that core came from."
From the back of his mind, Nathan's voice slipped in, cool and certain. He's right. Harden is yours now. Another tool. But never forget—the blade I gave you is the true weapon. This one is just a mask.
Kael tightened his grip around the dagger. Two blades—one shadow, one steel. A secret that would bind him to Jorin, and set him apart from everyone else.
The chatter of the other students returned, full of excitement about their own creations. They didn't notice Kael's dagger, didn't realize it was born from something far greater. To them, he was still the same blank.
But Kael knew better.