The heavy door closed behind them with a low clang. The warmth of the forge filled the chamber, soft crackles of flame dancing across the coals. Kael stood there for a moment, taking it all in—the glowing embers, the racks of tools, the weapons gleaming under orange light. It was unlike any place he had been in before.
Jorin motioned toward a workbench. On it lay a collection of cores Kael had gathered, the faint glow inside them still pulsing like captured heartbeats. Jorin set one hand on the table, his other brushing across the mask mold and plates laid out beside it.
"Sit," Jorin said simply.
Kael lowered himself onto a stool, his eyes flicking from the teacher's face to the materials. He hesitated before speaking. "Why are you… helping me like this? Out of everyone, why me?"
Jorin's hands stilled for a moment. The light of the forge painted harsh lines across his sharp features, but when he looked at Kael, there was something softer there. A memory, maybe.
"When the void gates first opened," Jorin began, voice low but steady, "the world was chaos. Beasts spilled through. Cities burned. And humanity… we changed. Powers began awakening in us. Some called it a blessing. Others… a curse."
He picked up a hammer, weighing it in his palm, then set it down again as if the act of telling this story was heavier.
"I was just a soldier back then. Young. Alone. No family to run to, no one waiting at home. All I had was the uniform and the rifle in my hand. And then, one day, lightning struck through me—not the sky's lightning, but something inside me. Raw, violent, alive. It made me strong. Strong enough that the families noticed."
Kael listened intently, his fingers curling slightly on his knees.
"They wanted me," Jorin continued. "The Veyras, the Dros, the Kaines. Each of them tried to claim me. Promises of wealth, power, safety. But I said no. I wouldn't be their weapon. And so, the only place left for me was the army. Fight after fight, void after void, until I was too valuable to kill, too stubborn to break."
Jorin finally met Kael's eyes. "And now I look at you, Kael… and I see the same thing. A boy with nothing. A boy with too much inside him to be left alone. And I won't let them turn you into another tool."
Kael swallowed, the words striking deeper than he expected. For the first time, he saw Jorin not just as an instructor, but as someone who had walked through the same loneliness.
Jorin cleared his throat, turning back to the bench. "Which is why we forge. Armor. A mask. Something to shield you—not just from blades or claws, but from eyes that would pry too closely."
He placed the cores onto a plate, their glow flaring as they touched the heated mold. Sparks snapped in the air. Kael leaned closer, the sight entrancing.
"Outside these walls," Jorin said as he worked, "the families send raiding parties into the voids. They scour unknown planets, hunting beasts, ripping cores from their chests. To them, it's coin and power. And they wear armor—custom-forged, plated with core fragments. It makes them stronger. Makes them last longer against beasts."
The cores pulsed as Jorin began shaping them, hammer striking metal in steady rhythm. The forge hissed and sang.
"If you wear this mask," he continued, "no one will think you're a student. Not at first glance. You'll look like one of them—an explorer, a raider. Someone already claimed by the outside world. That, Kael, might keep you safe."
Kael watched as Jorin lifted the heated mold, shaping it carefully. Slowly, a mask began to take form—dark, angular, with faint traces of the core's glow threading through the metal like veins of living light. A second plate lay nearby, being shaped into a chest guard.
The mask was not elaborate, not gilded or flashy, but it radiated purpose. Kael felt it even before Jorin set it down.
"Put it on," Jorin said.
Kael hesitated, then lifted the mask. It was warm against his skin, the glow of the cores seeping faintly into him. He lowered it over his face. For a moment, everything was dark—then his vision cleared, sharper, the world edged in faint hues of purple and blue. He drew in a slow breath, feeling heavier, but stronger.
Jorin nodded. "Good. With this, you're harder to read. A blank face when you need it. The fewer who know your truth, the safer you'll be."
Kael raised a hand, fingertips brushing the smooth edge. He didn't know whether to feel hidden or revealed.
"This mask," Jorin said, his tone almost solemn, "isn't just metal. It's a promise. To me. To yourself. That you'll grow strong enough to survive what's coming. And strong enough to choose your own path."
For a moment, the room was quiet but for the fading hiss of the forge.
Kael finally asked, his voice softer than he expected, "And if I fail?"
Jorin's eyes burned like twin bolts of lightning. "Then you won't. Not while I'm still here."