It happened again. Not only did his own son shoot out a bolt of lightning from his hands, but he also managed to make a queen kruthik go poof. Just like that. As if it never existed. And He couldn’t be more proud. Was Talion able to properly control the spell? Obviously not. Did he even mean to cast the spell? No. But he still did it. Did he know he was the one to eradicate a kruthik queen? Not at all. But Chaos didn't care.

The sun was rising in the sky. Talion and Nalia have already snuck off into town, hoping that no one would notice them missing. Reiha, too, had assumed that she could sneak off into town without anyone realizing. The three of them had the same thought in mind: to spend the platinum they had earned.

Aigor and Dyra were the only ones left in the fort. He had been spending most of his morning in the armory, studying each and every bit of weapons and armor.

“It’s a beauty, isn’t it?” Chaos had asked. He had entered the armory when Talion, Nalia, and Reiha had left the fort.

Aigor had been holding a shortsword in his hand. It faintly glimmered against the magical light that filled the room.

“It’s not like anything I’ve seen before,” he admitted. “How old is all of this?”

“Some are thousands of years old. That sword you’re holding was made during the Akrathi War.”

“There’s not even a hint of rust on it.

“And there never will be. Only the best made the weapons and armor you see here.” Chaos walked out into the hallway and called out to Aigor , “Come with me, I want to show you something.”

He led Aigor down the hallway and towards a small closed-off section of the fort. There was a single set of stairs that led downstairs. Chaos was the first one to walk downstairs. As he rounded down the circular staircase, step by step, the torches that lined the walls magically sprung to life - casting a bright reddish-orange glow. Eventually, they both reached the bottom.

Despite all this time and all the dust, the room looked as new as the day it was made. Various tools and tables lined the walls. Below them was a floor made of reinforced glass, which protected a white ball of energy that illuminated the entire forge. Plenty of vents and large cylindrical tubes lead into the ceiling. In the center of the back wall was the actual forge itself, which stood out clearly from everything else. No fire was lit inside of it in lifetimes, and yet both Chaos and Aigor could both sense it asking to be used again. The bright white light reflected against the decorated dwarven steel that the forge was made out of.

Aigor went up to touch it.

“I think I remember hearing about this,” Aigor awed. “This was the forge used by some of the greatest blacksmiths of all time. Duruthir, Alvan, Aerin…”

“It has been asleep for far too long,” Chaos remarked. “It’s a shame. Some of the greatest weapons of all time were made here.”

The two of them then stared at the massive white sphere that seemed to shine brighter now than ever. The orb was pulsing with energy.

“That orb is the source of power for the forge. Pull the chain behind you. See what happens.” Chaos urged him.

Aigor turned to face the forge. He pulled the chain back behind him, slowly pulling the chain. The glowing orb began to dim, and in turn, the inside of the forge began to glow with fire. Unlike most flames, however, it wasn’t an orangish-red. A bright white light shined, just like the orb below them.

“Now pull the lever next to it,” Chaos continued.

Aigor tried reaching the lever, but it was too high up. Chaos reached up to help him. He grabbed the handle, and he pushed down.

“What was the lever for?” Aigor wondered.

“It’s to keep the fire going,” Chaos answered. “Pull it down to keep the fire going, pull it up when you’re done with it.”

“Okay,” Aigor nodded.

“This is yours now,” Chaos said, pulling the lever back up.

“Is it really mine?” Aigor asked.

“Of course,” He assured him. “You’re the blacksmith here.”

Aigor turned around once again and took a look at the forge itself. There was a spark in his eyes. Chaos knew exactly what it was. He had seen it countless times. It was an urge to create. An urge to do more. To make more.

“Oh, and one more thing’ Chaos added. He clapped his hands. At first, Aigor had no idea why He did that. But, it only took a second of looking around to realize what He did: the shelves and cabinets that were once empty were now stocked full with materials. “This should hold you over for a while. If you need anything, feel free to ask.”

Dyra was outside when He found her. She had spent the day subjecting the training dummies outside with the slashes and stabs of her glaive. She didn’t notice Chaos walking up.

“Hello Dyra,” He called.

Dyra immediately whipped around, almost dropping her glaive on the ground.

Chaos looked at the damage she had done to the training dummy. The thin wooden plating that served as the dummy’s armor was now fractured, nearly broken into two halves. Chaos took a step closer to the dummy and took off its ‘armor’.

As He held the armor in His arms, Dya asked, “Is there any way I could help you?”

“Death told me about you, grave-seer. “

“Oh, that?” she meekly asked. “It’s nothing - I mean…”

“Nothing? Seeing the dead is no simple feat,” Chaos stated.

“But I still don’t know how to use it,” responded Dyra.

“And that’s alright. No one learns something like grave-seeing overnight.”

Chaos turned around to put the armor back on the dummy. To the complete surprise of Dyra, it was now fully repaired - without her even noticing for that matter. No cracks or dents. It looked as if it was completely new.

“Woah,” she muttered, looking at the armor.

“Do you know how rare your abilities are, Dyra?”

“Rare. Very rare,” Dyra answered. “Why?”

“It takes years upon years to even see the faint figure of a soul. But you, you, were able to not only see but speak to your father.”

“It was still hazy, though. His voice sounded muffled and…”

“You’re short-selling yourself. Even hearing something is more than impressive for someone still learning. I have a job lined up tomorrow. It shouldn’t take too long. Afterward, I want you to meet someone.”

“Who?”

“I think you know who.”

“Death?”

“Death.”

This time, Dyra did drop her glaive, but Chaos managed to catch it just in time.

“Where am I supposed to meet Her?”

“She’ll be meeting you.” Chaos handed her back her glaive. “Anyways, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Wait… May I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why are we here? There has to be another reason, right? I love being here, don’t get me wrong. But… What use do You have with a mercenary guild? Out of the five of us?”

Chaos smiled. “Each and every one of you are destined for greatness. I mean it. You will not be able to understand my true goals. Not now, at least. Or any time soon. But one day, I will tell you. All of you.”