The sun hung low, casting long shadows over the piles of dirt that littered the square. The golems had been busy, their daggers digging, carving through the earth like machines that they were. The sight of them, renewed with purpose, brought Kael a strange comfort. Still, there was a part of him that remained uneasy. He didn’t want to become like Avaris, building an army of golems for war, rather than companions. That path wasn’t for him.

  Turning away from the golems, Kael looked back to Skrindle, who was hovering just behind him, his wings buzzing. Crafting branches, Kael thought.

  "I like having the golems around," Kael said, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I don’t think I’ll ever be like Avaris. I rather get my companions the usual way."

  Skrindle seemed almost happy hearing Kael say that. "Well, that's a good choice," he said. "Engineering, right? It’s not for everyone. But what about materialization? You can pull weapons out of thin air, no digging, no gathering—just... bam, there it is."

  Kael paused, his fingers tapping against his arm. Weapons out of thin air. The thought was appealing in its convenience, but something about it rubbed him the wrong way. Too easy. And Kael wasn’t the sort to lean on convenience. Not yet at least.

  “I can carry my own weapons,” Kael said. He reached for the hilt of his Ice Sickle, the familiar weight of it a comfort. “I’m not so lazy that I need to pull something out of thin air. So that’s out too.”

  Skrindle’s expression shifted into something closer to a pout. “Fine, fine. No materialization. So, what does that leave us with?” he asked.“Advanced crafting or enchantment?”

  The ring of frost, he thought. Enchantment. The ability to give things magic, to imbue them with meaning, with purpose.

  It was about creation. Transformation.

  He turned to Skrindle, the decision settling into place. “I’ll choose enchantment,” he said quietly, the words more certain than he had expected.

  Skrindle raised an eyebrow but said nothing, hovering in place as Kael stood tall. And then, as if the world itself was listening, the air around them shimmered.

  Then, before his eyes, something strange began to happen. A shimmer of light appeared overhead, a flicker of magic that rippled through the air like a wave of heat. Slowly, the shimmer merged into a massive crystal, its form flickering and shifting. The crystal grew larger with each passing second, glowing faintly as it descended from the heavens.

  The crystal continued its descent, shrinking in size as it came closer to Kael. It whittled down, becoming more defined as it neared, its surface shimmering with blue-white light.

  And then, in a final, smooth motion, the crystal transformed, collapsing into a tight sphere before expanding once more, now into a necklace. The pendant that hung from the fine, glowing chain was shaped like a delicate crystal, a perfect reflection of the one that had just descended.

  Skrindle, hovering nearby. "Presenting the Necklace of Enchantment," he said, his voice carrying an air of mock ceremony.

  Kael’s fingers tightened around the necklace, its cool surface resting against his palm.

  "You’re going to need to wear it, Kael," he said, his eyes narrowing. "The crystal in the necklace will contain all the enchantments you know. But, you can’t enchant anything if you’re not wearing the necklace."

  He placed the necklace around his neck, feeling the chain settle against the hood of his robes, its crystal against his chest.

  "Now, hold on tight," Skrindle said, a touch of excitement slipping through his usual mockery. "This is where it gets interesting."

  Slowly, like a whisper on the wind, words began to form in the air before him. They shimmered, shifting as they appeared, each word clear, like they were etched into the air.

  Enchantment Known: 1

  The words shifted, taking form:

  Lesser Enchantment of Fog - Creates fog in a small area, obstructing vision.

  Kael blinked, a strange sense of awe stirring in his chest. Fog. A lesser enchantment. It wasn’t grand or overwhelming, but it was something. A beginning.

  "There you have it," the imp said, his tone smug as always. "You’ve got your first enchantment. The Lesser Enchantment of Fog. Simple, effective. But don’t worry. You’ll learn more soon enough."

  Kael could feel the pulse of the enchantment running beneath his skin, the weight of the necklace heavy around his neck. The power was there, and now, he had the desire to use it, to explore it.

  He turned to Jello, who was happily bouncing beside him, a silent blob of green goo that had been his first companion and friend. Kael smiled at the slime before kneeling down beside it, putting his hand gently on the creature’s soft, slippery surface. "I give you the power of fog," he said.

  But nothing happened.

  Kael frowned, his fingers still resting on Jello’s body.

  "It has to be an item, not a living being." His wings fluttered with exasperation. "You can’t just enchant your pet with magic. It doesn’t work like that."

  Kael felt a momentary sting of disappointment but only for a heartbeat. It had been worth a try, he thought.

  “Well, I guess that’s that,” Kael said, pushing himself to his feet. He glanced around the square, eyes catching on the scattered piles of dirt and debris from the golems’ labor. His gaze landed on a long, dry stick nearby, half-buried in the earth. Without much thought, he bent down, plucking it from the ground.

  "I bless you with the power of fog," he said again, holding the stick aloft.

  There was a faint, shimmering glow, like the stick itself was responding to the enchantment. The glow deepened, spreading from the center of the stick outward, swirling with faint gray tendrils. But then, with an unexpected snap, the stick broke apart, disintegrating into splinters and dust in Kael's hand.

  “It needs to be a mundane item, not junk you pick up from the forest floor." He flicked his hand dismissively at the scattered pieces of the broken stick. "Try something that’s actually useful, Kael."

  Kael’s shoulders slumped a little, but a wry grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Fine," he said. "I guess I’m following the rules, then."

  He turned back toward the pile of daggers and hesitated for only a moment before reaching down and picking up one of the daggers.

  As his fingers curled around the hilt, the magic within the crystal necklace stirred, and the faint glow from the dagger’s blade pulsed to life.

  The enchantment began to glow across the surface, tendrils of grey mist spiraling outward from the dagger’s blade like smoke, leaving gray lines on the dagger. Kael grinned, his excitement building.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  With a swift motion, he swung the dagger down.

  A thick, white fog began to pour from the dagger, swirling around Kael’s arms and torso in a haze, shrouding his form. Kael stood there for a moment, appreciating the enchantment he had cast, as the mist slowly dissipated around him.

  "Well," he said, "congratulations, Kael. You’ve just created your first enchanted weapon."

  He hovered closer, his wings flitting in the air like a small bird. "But, please," he continued, the desperation in his voice palpable, "do not, I repeat, do not call it ‘Kael’s Dagger of Fog.’"

  "I wasn’t planning on calling it that," Kael said, his lips curling into a smirk. "Though now that you mention it..."

  Skrindle groaned, rolling his eyes in dramatic fashion, and Kael, still standing in the dissipating fog, felt a momentary surge of satisfaction.

  "Now that the enchantments are done," Skrindle said, "we can move on to your new crafting recipe."

  "New recipe?"

  "You crafted a hundred daggers, so, congratulations. Your crafting level’s gone up to 2."

  Level 2? The feeling of pride stirred deep within him but was quickly overwhelmed by the prospect of unlocking something new. What new creation was he given?

  "What did I unlock?" Kael asked eagerly, rubbing his hands together.

  Skrindle’s eyes gleamed with the promise of things to come. "Now, at level 2," the imp said, leaning in closer as though sharing a secret, "you get to choose between a sword or a shield."

  Kael didn’t hesitate.

  "Swords. I want swords."

  "As you wish, Master Kael," he said, his tone dripping with sarcastic formality. "You can now craft swords."

  A hundred daggers had brought him here, to this moment, to this opportunity. And now, with this new recipe, he could create more. What would a hundred swords give him?

  Skrindle, ever the bearer of information, gave Kael a moment to soak in his new ability. "Each sword you craft will cost you two iron bars," he said. But Skrindle wasn’t finished.

  "Oh," the imp continued, "there’s one more thing. At level 2 crafting, your items have a chance of being well-made."

  Kael frowned, confused. "Well-made?"

  “They’re better than a regular sword. Sharper or more durable. But," he added quickly, "don’t get too excited. The chance is small."

  "What’s the chance?"

  "Small. Very small. Like one in a hundred. But it’s there. And, as you level up your crafting, the chances go up."

  Kael smiled, small chance or not, there was a chance.

  His fingers brushed the cool surface of the Arcane Anvil, the familiar hum of magic pulsing through his hand as he willed the raw iron to become something more. And then, with a soft clink, two swords fell neatly at his feet, their steel gleaming faintly in the light.

  Kael knelt down, picking them up one at a time, his fingers tracing the edges. They were solid enough, no more than what he had expected for his first attempt. But as he examined them, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment. They were ordinary, merely regular. The blades were sharp enough, but they lacked the flair.

  "They look like regular swords," Kael said to himself, inspecting the blades once more. “Not particularly well-made.”

  From the corner of his eye, he noticed Jello wobbling toward him, his gelatinous form shifting in a way that made the usually oblivious slime appear almost concerned. Jello paused, his round formed seemed fixed on the swords with a strange wariness, as though unsure of their purpose.

  "Come here, Jello," he said, bending down to offer the slime some reassurance. "You’re not afraid of swords, are you?" He held one of the blades out to Jello, his voice light. "Can you hold one?"

  Jello wobbled forward, his form rippling as he attempted to grab the hilt of the sword. He stretched, contorted, and tried again, but the blade slipped right through his soft, translucent body each time, never quite making contact.

  Kael pulled the sword back. "Guess you don’t need swords after all, huh?" He gave Jello a soft pat, more out of affection than disappointment. The slime gurgled softly in response, clearly happy to simply be near his master.

  Kael’s eyes shifted to the two golems standing nearby, still fresh from their excavation. Dirt clung to their bodies, ores held in their arms.

  "Gerry! Three Arms!" Kael called, his voice carrying over the square. The golems turned in unison, their eyes fixed on him as they trudged forward.

  Gerry stepped forward like a warrior, his hands stretching out to take the sword from Kael’s grasp. Without hesitation, Gerry held the sword with confidence, spinning it in his hands and testing its weight with ease.

  "You’re a natural, Gerry."

  "Aye, this feels right," he said.

  Kael nodded in agreement. Gerry was a weapon loader, now he was a swordsman. But then his attention shifted to Three Arms, who had been standing off to the side, awkwardly eyeing the weapon in his hands.

  Three Arms took the sword gingerly, raising it with three hands, his joints clicking as he tried to balance the heavy blade. The weapon, while sharp, seemed too large, too unwieldy for the golem’s smaller frame. He struggled with the weight, shifting his stance as he tried to steady the sword, but it hung awkwardly, its hilt dipping toward the ground.

  Kael raised an eyebrow as he watched Three Arms’ attempts to hold the blade. This is not going to work, he thought.

  "Maybe..." Kael began, tapping his chin thoughtfully, "...maybe you should stick with daggers instead."

  Three Arms, ever the agreeable one, gave a high-pitched squeal of delight. "Yes! Yes! Daggers!" he chirped, his voice almost childlike with enthusiasm.

  "Yeah, I thought so. Daggers are more your speed, aren’t they?"

  Three Arms nodded eagerly, his three hands clapping together in excitement as he placed the sword back down. With surprising agility, he reached for daggers from the pile, the small blades fitting easily into his grip. He juggled the daggers triumphantly before tossing all daggers all straight into a tree trunk.

  "Looks like he found his calling," Gerry said, swinging his sword through the air.

  After the excitement of the new weapons died down, the golems trundled back to their work. Kael watched them for a moment, the rhythmic sounds of their gears working oddly soothing. His square was beginning to take shape, there were weapons, companions and spells and magic. He could grow his square into something more, something great.

  Kael turned to Skrindle, “Are there any more unlocks?" he asked, his voice filled with quiet curiosity. "Levels up? Achievements? Recipes? Anything else?"

  Skrindle's eyes flicked toward Kael, and for a brief moment, the imp’s usual smirk faltered. "Well, there’s still that personal skill point you haven’t used," he said, his voice now taking on a more practical tone. "But that’s about it for now."

  A skill point. Kael raised an eyebrow. What could he improve? There were so many things to choose from—his strength, his skills, magic.

  "I’ll think about it," Kael said.

  He had other matters to focus on, more pressing things to deal with. The conclave. And getting to bronze level.

  Kael said, his voice distant, reflective. "I think it’s time for ascension."

  "Oh, you’re finally ready to move on, huh?" the imp asked, his wings beating lightly as he hovered near Kael’s shoulder. "You should be. But listen carefully. Ascension isn’t some walk in the park. This is a fight to the death."

  "And if neither Master dies?"

  "If neither of you dies within 24 hours, both Masters die. That’s the rule. It’s designed to make sure only one rises. So, if you’re planning on going through with it, you’d better be prepared."

  Kael felt a cold shiver run down his spine at the words. Death. It was something he had always known would be a part of this journey, but now, hearing it so plainly, the finality of it hit him hard.

  He took a deep breath, shaking off the unease that tried to creep in. "I’m ready," he said.

  With a firm grip, Kael reached down and took the orb from his belt. It was warm in his hand, pulsing with a faint, steady rhythm, like a heartbeat. His fingers closed around it, feeling the power within.

  He stared at the orb, watching as the words seemed to materialize before him, glowing faintly in the dim light of his square.

  Would you like to undergo Ascension? Yes or no.

  He was about to speak, to give his answer, when a voice echoed through his mind. It was soft, a whisper, but it was unmistakable.

  "Kael?"

  The voice was familiar, the tone full of hesitation and quiet concern. Lira.

  "Lira?" Kael said aloud, though there was no one around him. The name felt like a ghost in the air, something distant and unreachable. His eyes darted around, searching for any sign of her, but there was nothing. No movement, no figure.

  The voice now gone, but it lingered in his mind like an echo.

  Had she been trying to reach him? Was it a warning?

  He looked at the orb one last time, the words glowing before him, waiting for his answer.

  Yes or no.

  ******