The trek to Master Olin's dwelling was short, but the silence was heavy. Vincy and Seraphina exchanged a wary glance, the same question burning in both their minds.
"Master Olin," Vincy finally blurted out, "you said those storage rings belonged to the brothers of the Great River Clan. But we never told you who we fought, and those rings only bear a small, stylized crest. How did you know?"
Olin didn't stop walking. He didn't even turn his head. He just let out a low, gravelly chuckle that seemed to vibrate through the trees, a sound of pure, seasoned amusement.
"The world is smaller than you think, boy, and loud secrets have a way of screaming to those with ears to hear," Olin said, his voice dancing with a playful mystery. When Vincy opened his mouth to press further, the old man simply winked and turned toward the cliffside. "Curiosity is a fine spice, but don't let it burn the soup. Some things are better left as a smile in the dark."
He left them standing there, astounded. To identify a clan and a specific pair of siblings without a single word of introduction suggested a level of perception that made the Myriad School's "Grand Masters" look like blind men.
"Welcome to my humble abode," Olin announced, waving a soot-stained hand toward the cave entrance. "Mind the 'soup' on the floor. It's either lunch or a failed acid experiment. I can't quite remember."
The interior was, to put it mildly, unsavoury. The air was a thick soup of sulfur, dried rot, and a cloyingly sweet herbal musk. Piles of discarded charcoal competed for space with rusted cauldrons and jars of things preserved in murky, bubbling brine. It looked less like a master's workshop and more like a dragon's trash heap.
With a grunt, Olin began "clearing" the area—which mostly involved kicking piles of junk into the darker corners and wiping a massive stone table with a rag that was arguably dirtier than the table itself.
"Clear the space, clear the mind," Olin muttered, tossing a pile of half-eaten roots into a corner. "Now, boy. Empty your pockets. Specifically, that Star-Core Fragment you're lugging around. It's putting a dent in my floor just by being near it."
Vincy placed the jagged, pulsing fragment on the table. The moment it touched the stone, a spiderweb of cracks fanned out from the impact point. The fragment thrummed with a heavy, rhythmic violet light, asserting its presence in the cramped cave.
"Not just a weapon," Piet's voice corrected him, sounding unusually sharp. "A Gravity-Anchor. If he can bind that fragment to a blade, you won't need to be a master of the sword to win a fight. You'll just need to be near your enemy to crush their lungs."
Olin peered at the fragment through his cracked spectacles, his playful demeanor vanishing instantly. His eyes narrowed, reflecting the violet glow. "This isn't just ore. This is a piece of a fallen star's heart. To refine this, I'll have to use my Primeval Earth Fire. It's hotter than anything you've ever felt."
He turned to Vincy, his gaze piercing. "I can bind this to your Soul-Sunder Blade. But to do it, someone has to act as the bellows. Someone has to pour their own Qi into the furnace to keep the temperature from melting the cave. You're the only one with the 'frequency' that matches the star."
Olin stepped toward a massive, iron-bound kiln in the center of the room. "If you fail to keep the flow steady, the fragment will explode, and we'll all become part of the cave wall. If you succeed... you walk out of here with a weapon that can ignore the armor of a General."
Seraphina stepped forward, her silver eyes glowing with the "truth" she had stolen from the Altar. "And me? What is my role?"
"You?" Olin smirked. "You're the coolant. When the blade comes out, it'll be hot enough to ignite the forest. Your silver-rime is the only thing that can quench it without shattering the metal. Do you both have the stomach for it?"
Vincy looked at the kiln, then at Piet's shimmering presence in his peripheral vision.
"Do it, Vincy," Piet urged. "The Shadow-Stalkers are still searching. We need more than luck to survive the walk back to civilization."