Night still clung gently to the manor's spires, but within its walls, a new dawn was rising.
Solace stood between two figures of profound serenity—Gaia, radiant with earthly wisdom, and Aetheria, glowing with cosmic grace. Together they formed a triumvirate of creation, becoming, and purpose.
He addressed them with a gentle nod.
"Let us start anew, shall we? I am Solace. To my left is Gaia, and to my right—Aetheria."
A soft whisper of respect accompanied Princess Elara's reply as she settled her composure.
"A-alright… I am Elara Ithmar, Second Princess of this kingdom—fifth child, and the youngest."
Solace acknowledged her quietly before shifting to purpose.
"As I mentioned, I have a proposal. I have taken up the craft of a blacksmith—and I wish to provide weapons for your kingdom."
Elara's surprise was nearly audible.
"A blacksmith? But… you're so young. Forging weapons that supply a kingdom requires centuries of practice."
He waved a hand, and on the table materialized a gleaming Earth‑Grade sword—refined, elegant, and unmistakably Other.
"This was forged by me just last week. Take a look."
Elara's hand trembled slightly as she lifted the blade. After long moments, she summoned her own sword from her ring—a familiar Earth‑Grade weapon—and compared them.
Her eyes widened, breath caught.
"...This is at least on par with high‑tier Platinum weapons," she said in awe. "Not just because of its temperament—this blade is attuned to so many Laws, I can hardly count them. And the material… no smith on Earth could produce this."
Solace simply smiled.
"Enough praise—there's much more where that came from."
Elara's cheeks warmed, color rising.
"What would you want in return?" she asked, voice hushed.
He tapped the table and a delicate ring floated into her hand—a gateway to thousands of weapons, from Iron to Mythic Grade.
"Simply spread my name. Let everyone know these weapons were forged by Solace. If someone wants one, they place their order. Prices remain fair."
Elara's eyes shone as she gazed into the ring's essence-rendered creations.
"I will tell my parents. Don't be surprised if you soon receive a summons."
"I'll be ready," Solace replied.
As Elara departed, stepping into the night with newfound purpose, Gaia exhaled softly.
"You're stirring storms, aren't you?" she remarked gently.
Solace rubbed his faceless mask with a slow, elegant touch.
"Exactly what I intend."
He turned toward Gaia, voice firm.
"I've made my decision. I will take this world for myself. I trust it won't be an issue?"
Gaia placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch steady and warm.
"Not at all," she replied softly—two words heavy with unspoken loyalty and inevitability.
Deep Below the Earth
Far beneath, in the hidden heart of the world, Gaia's true essence stirred. Awakened by these waves of purpose, she opened her ancient eyes—eyes older than kingdoms, older even than time.
And spoke again.
"Not at all, indeed not at all."
----
The morning sun streamed through the stained crystal windows of Ithmar's royal palace, casting prismatic shadows across the velvet-cloaked pillars. Princess Elara, clad in ceremonial blue and silver, moved through the marble halls with practiced grace, her mind still heavy with the memory of Solace's manor—his presence, his power, and his promise.
She stepped into the royal court, where nobles already gathered, sipping on dew-wine and trading whispers about trade, borders, and beasts. King Thalan Ithmar sat at the head of the hall—tall, weathered, and sharp-eyed. Beside him, Queen Sara Ithmar, ever the quiet storm, wore her crown like it was forged for war rather than rule. The court stilled at Elara's entrance.
She stepped forward, bowing formally.
"Father. Mother. I bring news from last night's visit."
The King nodded, gesturing her to proceed.
"I met with the man known as Solace."
A sharp inhale rippled through the room.
"He's alive?" Queen Sara asked, voice soft but cutting through the silence.
"Yes," Elara confirmed. "Alive… and stronger than anyone could have predicted. He revealed his true face to me. I believe he is now far more than what he once was."
Thalan narrowed his gaze. "And what did he want?"
"He offered to forge weapons for the Kingdom of Ithmar—at scale. He claims he is a blacksmith and formation master now. He gave me a sample of his craft."
Elara reached into her spatial ring and summoned the Earth Grade sword Solace had handed her. The blade, even in the polished light of the royal chamber, gleamed with strange energy—pulsing gently, almost as if breathing.
"This is no ordinary Earth Grade weapon," she continued. "The material is foreign. The compatibility with Laws… is beyond my comprehension. I spent nearly an hour examining it, and I couldn't even begin to define its limits."
Queen Sara stepped down from the dais to inspect the weapon. She ran a finger over the flat edge, and her eyes shimmered briefly.
"This… is leagues above our current blacksmiths' output," she said after a pause.
"And he offers this freely?" King Thalan asked.
"He only asked for one thing," Elara said. "Spread his name. Let the people know who forged their weapons. Orders are to be placed directly through him. The prices are... fair."
She offered them the ring containing the rest of the weapons—none of which were Relic-grade, as Solace had deliberately withheld those.
The King accepted the ring, his expression unreadable. Then he looked to his wife.
Queen Sara gave a slight nod. "This could elevate Ithmar's influence across continents."
King Thalan's voice was quiet, but resolute.
"Very well. We'll begin preparations. Let it be known that Solace, blacksmith of the unknown forge, will supply Ithmar."
Elara bowed again.
"He is ready for whatever attention this brings."
Back at the manor later that day, Solace sat beneath the moonlight, legs crossed beside the glowing forge. Aetheria and Gaia watched from the side, both sipping on tea that shimmered with mana flakes.
Solace opened his eyes.
"They accepted it."
Gaia smiled faintly. "And now your legend begins."
He reached behind him, lifting the faceless mask. The obsidian metal reflected only shadows.
"This world's blade has dulled from peace and politics. I'll sharpen it."
"You're not just forging weapons," Aetheria said. "You're forging a new era."
Solace placed the mask beside him. His white-silver hair danced gently in the night breeze.
"And I'll be the name etched into its hilt.