"Leave us..." the commander ordered. Everyone except Damian left the room.
"Are you saying you have an iron golem spell? Or did my ears deceive me?" she asked, her tone sharp with disbelief.
"It's a theory of mine," Damian replied, laying out the facts. "I want to test it, but I can't do it here—it might be dangerous. So, will you help me?"
"You?" Her face twisted in shock, each word dripping with incredulity. "You're barely eleven years old and claim to have discovered the ancient lost art of the iron golem?"
"It's just a theory for now," Damian said with a calm shrug. "I might be wrong, but I have to test it."
"No," she snapped, regaining her composure. "You can't create an iron golem on your own."
"Then you draw the runic circle," Damian challenged, his eyes unwavering. "If you can, that is. I just want to see if I'm right."
"And what if you are?" she asked, her curiosity momentarily piqued.
