The people of Leggiadra are cheering, applauding, and shouting blessings toward us—me as well. They know that the Human woman somehow helped with a war that no one had thought about for decades. Even Melior and his ego had to recognize my gigantic contribution to their cause. And so, now that things are in the open, they told the entire city what was going on. Most of it, at least. There’s still a fake [Mayor] and the façade goes on, but they know about my involvement, at least marginally. They didn’t tell everyone how instrumental I was, how my guns were the cornerstone of the war, what tipped the scale in our favor. But while we parade back home, some of the people cheer for me as well.

We are having a triumphant march across the wide streets of Leggiadra. I’m atop a majestic horse, a particular breed popular among half-giants because they need to sustain their great weight. Slower compared to some stallions, but great warhorses nonetheless. Not that we actually needed horses, to be clear.

“Smile,” I hear Cordius’s voice by my side. “People don’t want to see broody Human when we are coming back victorious for the first time in centuries.”

I put on a warm smile and let my head zone out.

That’s where most of the war has been fought.

My head.

I wonder what sort of people are on the other side of the battlement. What monsters and heroes are waiting for us? Will we be enough to slay them all? Will we be able to overturn the oppression that afflicted the half-giants?

…

“Cassandre! Child! Your work as been nothing short of amazing! Excellent! We need to celebrate so hard that we will visit our ancestors home when the moon touches the darkest point of the night!”

So, this is Minurulex, the Glass faction's chief [Alchemist]. When he's around other half-giants, he tends to keep to himself, but this is more due to culture than anything else. Unlike the other crafters, he likes being loud and cheery. And the only reason I saw him so little so far has been because he tried as hard as he could to replicate smokeless powder that didn’t leave any residue behind.

“I owe you ten levels!” he shouts, “do you have any idea what that means? Girl, you are the most wonderful gift our ancestors could have ever brought us!”

Melior has disappeared before our delegation reached the Glass and Steel District. He either had some other business to attend or he simply wanted to avoid the brunt of the celebrations.

“You owe me nothing, Minurulex,” I tell him with a smile, “your work is beyond me. I just gave you a recipe and a few disjointed memories. It was all you.”

“Ah! You know how to flatter an older man, Cassandre El Maddouri,” he says with eyes shaped like hearts.

“But worry not because I will forever remember your contribution! And if you only knew how much your insights about acids and bases helped us! Rizilius’s ears! You have no idea! We also made the bulletproof glass that you talked about! And putting transparent sheets between glass? Cassandre, you have advanced our research by decades—no, what am I saying?! By centuries!”

I give him a genuine smile.

Minurulex is older than Melior by fifteen years. Melior, as I came to understand, is destined to be the greatest [Blacksmith] of several centuries of half-giant history. Minurulex, for all his talent is just one step below, has always suffered the comparison with the younger Melior. Why? That step is larger than most might imagine. Being a great genius and being a child prodigy are two entirely different things. But now that he had new things to work on, he believes he can finally catch up to Melior’s legendary fame. And he’s not entirely wrong. Melior has talent in spades, but I don’t think I have ever saw someone as sharp as Minurulex. Eccentric, sure, but the brightest mind I have ever met.

“Oh God, I think I forgot the flame on at my lab!” he suddenly exclaims.

“You didn’t,” another half-giant, bigger and younger than Minurulex says with an exasperated expression.

Xhantior, Minurulex’s assistant. His opposite in many regards. Very bright mind, but not as bold nor creative as Minurulex.

“Oh, phew, that’s comforting.”

Minurulex experiences anxiety in a unique way. He's pretty laid-back when it comes to his work. But he can still make silly blunders now and then. He forgets about official documents, leaves flames on when he shouldn't, and so on. Melior apparently confined him to his lab at some stage since Minurulex had completely forgotten about a treaty they had signed and had failed to supply two months' worth of materials to him.

That matter had been put to rest when an angry Melior accepted that Minurulex be confined to ‘lab arrests,’ meaning that the man wouldn’t be able to leave his lab for two straight months and until he delivered all the reagents that Melior had requested.

Yet, the most defining quality of his, as I already mentioned, is his cheeriness.

“I have made a new system of glass that traps [Light] spells. Do you remember your advice?”

I quickly tense up and cast a wary gaze toward the [Alchemist]. That’s because I mentioned something of extreme importance to him, and him only. I don’t know why it seemed so fitting, but when first Minurulex, he mentioned something about [Lights] and how half-giants once had some of the most powerful [Light Mages] in the entire world. Until then, I had been convinced that [Light Mages] were useless. But the truth seems to be hidden among legends and myths. And while talking to Minurulex, the poem that Licicium had recited to me came back to my mind.

By noble burden and foretoken dear,

A notice I pass on the sleeping seams

Of the stripped world that disappears,

For rotten enemies spun long schemes,

Aethereum’s magic long lives its death,

A faint dream of death’s nigh surprise,

Of his foe’s multiplying vile demise,

Look for Light, and shed your breath

Quench the war of the Dragon’s Folly,

Or suffer a thousand tragedies’ melancholy.

Look for light.

That was the hint.

Even though we're in Minurulex's lab, I suddenly feel the need for privacy. We're going to talk about something that gave me goosebumps. When something is unnerving by nature, it implies that there are deeper, darker realities lurking under the surface. That was the case with the poem Licinium had recited. Because of the poem, I came to the realization that I could be in a computer-generated world; it all felt too programmed, almost arranged in such a way. After that day, I started seeing shadows where the sun should have been, and mysteries on top of every lip.

Look for light.

“Xhantior, leave us some privacy,” I tell Minurulex’s assistant.

As the room empties, with the rest of the [Alchemists] leaving it, I look straight at the middle-aged [Alchemist] who has a cunning smile.

“We have stumbled on something big, haven’t we? Bigger than my ancestors’ footprints.”

“Tell me about this discovery.”

…

I look at a glass where a bright [Light] spell is trapped. It’s cold and smooth at the touch, but there’s a vibrating power underneath the still surface. Minurulex has trapped the [Light] in a spire, at first. Then, he tried the same with different shapes of glass.

“Do you have any idea what we are looking at?” I ask him.

Only Minurulex has access to this private room. Experiments that demand the utmost level of security can only be accepted here. Not even the smokeless gunpowder was something Minurulex deemed necessary to hide from his assistants and the [Alchemists] working below him. He had the whole town of Leggiadra at his disposal, and with the money he was making, he could get the support he needed for any project; for all Minurulex wasn’t loved by all half-giants for his quirky ways, he knew how to make an impression on those of the townsfolk who held him in contempt.

“Crafting classes like mine have appraising skills to help us value, preserve and create. Working with your hands all your life also improves your ability to appreciate great craftsmanship. Whatever this is, Cassandre, it’s big.”

"How did you get from a simple poem to this?" I asked.

The half-giant goes over a bookshelf where a shielding spell has been casted. Minurulex retrieves an antique tome that appears to have been damaged and missing more than one page at first glance, but is otherwise in good condition.

“My ancestors were driven from their homeland eons ago and forced to fight to survive. This is recorded in fragments and we don’t know where giants originally came from. At first, they lived on simple land. Then they made homes underground, in the very earth, in the air, in the waters. They adapted to whatever they needed to survive. And they fought. Eventually, the wars became less about survival and more about domination. They were brutal and our land was scarred by the violence. The great land empires were formed at that time. But again, this is recorded fragments and poetry we are talking about. At some point, giants were all killed, and only their minor spawn survived.”

“You meant half-giants?”

“Yes.”

The man looks sad while resting his hand on the old tome. His eyes shine, and there is something almost eager in his manner, that is quite different from a moment ago. No doubt, the old book is responsible for this.

“Do you know what this is?”

I look at the old tome with a linework resembling a man and a forge. I shake my head.

“This is a cookbook for [Alchemists], ancient recipes that make little sense. Most ingredients I don’t even know where to fetch. The tome is written as a poem if you can believe it. Half-giants have always been very artistic in this regard, but this is one of those tomes that somehow got among the most important books. We even tried copying it, but this is enchanted. You need to ask for a recipe and it will give it to you if you are lucky. The worst thing is that you have to know what you are looking for; the second worst thing is that most of what comes back to you is in riddles. But I used the word ‘Light’ and, for the first time, something very straightforward came from it.”

“[Light],” Minurulex says to the book, “I need [Light].”

The book suddenly levitates mid-air, rotating its own pages, and stopping somewhere in the middle. There’s a smell of blazing iron and boiling blood when the page flick from the center to the covers. I have the distinct feeling that this is something big. It’s the same feeling I got when Licinium recited the poem.

I find myself staring at some scattered words made of pure light on the page. My eyes wander over the ancient pages until they are once again drawn to a set of words.

…as for how to make Dragonglass…

“This is a recipe as I have never seen before, Cassandre. It explains how to trap [Light] inside glass. The most interesting thing is that it speaks at length about making Dragonglass. As you might imagine, that’s glass made through blowing Dragonfire on the raw materials. It’s actually quite the involved process if I have to be honest. And there’s something much deeper that I’m probably missing as well. But do you know what’s the most interesting thing of them all?”

“This is supposed to be used for weapons,” I mutter.

As I raise my eyes to meet Minurulex’s, we both look grave.