The campfire crackled low, a thin wisp of smoke drifting into the night sky. JP sat cross-legged on a flat stone, his workbench nothing more than a mess of wires, quartz shards, and scavenged metal parts spread across his lap.
Every so often, a faint spark leapt from his wristband into the ground with a pop.
Lyra sat opposite him, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. "You're aware that you nearly fried me earlier, right?"
JP winced. "Collateral damage! It's not like they issue safety manuals for 'alchemy-electrical' prototypes."
She didn't laugh. She kept watching.
JP sighed, holding up a jagged piece of quartz shot through with faint blue veins. "That's why I'm fixing it. This stuff doesn't just hold mana—it resonates. I can tune the discharge, smooth it out, maybe even redirect it."
He tinkered long into the night, shaving the stone with a knife, etching crude rune lines with a heated nail. When he slipped the modified shard into a clasp sewn onto Lyra's leather bracer, it glowed faintly, the static in the air calming instantly.
"Try moving closer," he said.
She did. No sparks jumped. No hair stood on end. Lyra flexed her wrist and tilted her head. "Hmm. You gave me an anti-lightning charm?"
JP grinned. "More like a grounding wire. Now, if I go haywire, you won't light up like a lantern."
For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, with the faintest quirk of her lips, she murmured, "Thank you."
The simplicity of it hit JP harder than the horned rabbit's charge. He scratched his cheek, embarrassed. "Don't mention it. Partners shouldn't zap each other."
Lyra smirked. "Unless they deserve it."
JP laughed, the tension easing. He kept fiddling with leftover quartz, embedding smaller shards into buckles, belts, and even the lining of his waist bag. The stones hummed softly, balancing his clunky designs with a strange, almost elegant glow.
By the time dawn touched the horizon, Lyra's gear gleamed faintly with quartz inlays. His own cloak shimmered with protective threads, more stable than before.
Lyra inspected the upgrades, finally nodding in approval. "You're reckless. But… useful."
JP stretched, yawning. "I'll take that as the highest praise."
The quiet moment felt almost normal. Almost.
But both of them knew that the more JP tinkered, the more attention they would draw—and not all of it friendly.