Once they were out of the tunnel Sylver and Bruno joined Tera in watching Mora’s attempts to catch Aleri, who was fast enough that he was a blur and had the maneuverability of a hummingbird.

The 6 winged shade was moving at right angles and somehow was able to completely ignore Mora’s small vortexes coming from the grid of strings she had created. Sylver focused on her for a while and could see that her hooves were sliding up her legs as if they were sleeves, and the small quickly moving claws hidden inside were just short of visible.

“She’s going to need a bit of training,” Sylver said mostly to himself, and partially to Spring, who added a couple of lines of notes into Morana’s training plan.

“Aleri is one, how many did you get?” Tera asked excitedly, as Sylver gestured towards the bright green grass in front of them.

Uri materialized first, followed by the snake, who sat on top of Uri completely unharmed, followed by Cory, who sat on top of the snake.

“Just 3?” Tera asked, in a somehow insultingly disappointed tone of voice.

“4 counting Aleri,” Sylver said.

“What about the giant octopus?” Tera asked.

“What would I even use a giant octopus for? Do you know how much attention a giant octopus would attract? These are so much better, Aleri on his own can just carry a dagger and slash someone’s throat open before they even notice him,” Sylver said, with a gesture at the bird in question that just did 5 loop de loops in a second.

The trio just stared at the bird for an unknown length of time, and only stopped when Tera got tired of standing and tried to sit down. A spider with an awkwardly large abdomen appeared nearby, and Tera was helped by Bruno to get onto it.

“I should go, I’ll see you two at my house soon,” Sylver said, as he mentally nudged Morana to stop playing and gather up her threads.

Sylver got a nudge back, that she had some kind of plan to catch Aleri and wanted him to wait for a bit. Sylver debated leaving her here until he left Arda, and in the end, realized he didn’t have anything even remotely close at his house to call a stable.

He left the Morana where she was, left her Aleri to carry on playing with, and left Bruno’s underground farm cave.

***

“Soaked in neutral twice filtered mana infused oils,” Ciege explained, as he started wiping the daggers and then checked the mirror polish one last time.

“Thank you, and sorry for having to rush you on this,” Sylver said, as Ciege placed the first dagger onto the leather-covered table, and started wiping dry the next.

Most blacksmith apprentices were lucky to get a sack filled with wood shavings to use as a pillow, the idea of an apprentice having his own room, not to mention his own workshop, was preposterous.

And yet, Ciege had both, not to mention his workshop was better equipped than a majority of “professional” blacksmiths.

Even if this workshop wasn’t technically Ciege’s, as he described it, it basically was. Salgok had realized very early on that Ciege had the skill and the talent, and while he would never be a dwarven blacksmith, he could be a masterful human blacksmith. All he needed was time and experience.

“Can I ask you something?” Ciege asked.

“Of course.”

Ciege focused on polishing the blade and looked at Sylver’s reflection.

“How hard is it to become a mage?” Ciege asked.

“It depends on your definition of what a mage is. Are you asking about Benjamin, or someone else?” Sylver responded.

Ciege was quiet once again and spoke only after he was done drying the dagger.

“If we go by your definition. If Ben decided to become a mage, how long would it take?” Ciege asked.

Sylver refrained from rolling his eyes and instead sat down on the available seat and spoke with a thoughtful voice.

“If we go by the “a mage is someone who can cast a spell” definition, 4 or 5 years, depending on how driven he is, how much talent he has, and how good his master is. I know warriors and other classes have skills or perks that use mana, but those don’t really count as a “spell” and therefore I don’t consider them to be magic,” Sylver offered, and could both see and feel that Ciege wasn’t happy with his answer.

“How dangerous is it?” Ciege asked.

“How dangerous is it to train to be a mage?” Sylver clarified.

Ciege nodded.

“Extremely dangerous. Even if you have the talent for it, you’re still one false move away from turning your spell on yourself… Can I be frank with you?” Sylver asked.

Even though Ciege gestured for him to go ahead, Sylver waited a couple of seconds to think his next words over.

“I’m not the best person to ask when it comes to raising children. But to sum up an extremely long and boring monologue, I think that if Ben really wants to learn magic, even if it’s dangerous, you should let him do it. You should support him in every way you can, because what is the alternative?” Sylver asked.

“Forcing him to stay home and make him into a blacksmith,” Ciege answered.

“I’m surprised you’re even having this conversation with me. Do you not remember how you threw all caution to the wind to do something you wanted above all else? You were prepared to ruin the world, as long as you got what you wanted. Now, I very much hope your son is never in the same position you were in, but he is your son.

“He’s going to have your drive to chase after his dream, even if it’s suicide. You’re not going to stop him. At best you’ll force him to run away to do everything on his own, without your help,” Sylver offered, as Ciege wiped another dagger clean.

“I don’t… I don’t know… I’ve always wanted a son to pass everything on to. If he’s out there, he isn’t here, learning from me, following in my footsteps,” Ciege explained. There was an odd note in his voice like he understood how bad what he said sounded, but at the same time, thought he was right when he said it.

Sylver shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s very easy for me to get attached to people Ciege. I don’t know how or why, but that’s the truth. But if I say what I want to say, you’re not going to react well to it… Imagine this. You never came back, and Yeva was forced to work for her father, and she hates it. She cries herself to sleep every night and dreads waking up in the morning. In this hypothetical, what do you think I would do?” Sylver asked.

Despite his village boy appearance, Ciege was a very intelligent young man, and he knew what Sylver was getting at before he had even finished speaking.

“I know you well enough to know you mean well when you say things like this. So in your eyes, it would be right to take Ben away from us if it meant he might be happy?” Ciege asked as he finished rubbing another dagger dry, and he placed it alongside the others in front of Sylver.

“I think that sometimes people have to do things. Either to survive or because it’s necessary for their goal. I know better than most what it’s like to do what you have to, as opposed to what you want to. But I also think that if you’re not moving towards your goal, you’re wasting your time,” Sylver said, as Ciege turned away for a bit to change his oil-soaked cloth for a fresh clean one.

“If you came here, in say, 20 years, and saw that Ben wasn’t happy being a blacksmith, but we were happy that he was here, safe. You would steal him from us so that he could get himself killed somewhere out there, right?” Ciege asked.

“I like Ben. He looked me in the eye and wasn’t afraid of me. And even before my eyes became this way, you can’t imagine how rare that was. So, yes. If I come around in 20 years, and I see an adult I will likely consider a close friend by that point in time, unenthusiastically swinging his blacksmithing hammer, I very much might “steal him away,” from you.

“I would prefer that he died chasing after his dream, rather than lived a long life and died of old age, full of quiet regret,” Sylver explained, as Ciege finished drying another dagger and placed it down onto the desk.

Ciege spent the remainder of the time it took to dry Sylver’s daggers in deep thought. Sylver left after hugging the man goodbye and reminded him about the meeting at his house.