The Ironworks was abuzz with speculation as the uneasy dormancy stretched into its second week. Workers, warriors, and scholars alike gathered in groups, exchanging theories about what might be causing the unnatural calm. Around campfires and inside makeshift meeting halls, the talk of the valley centered on a singular question: What had driven the Galgameth and Lava Worms into hiding?
Kalem found himself drawn to these discussions. He moved from group to group, listening intently to the ideas being shared. Each theory added a new piece to the puzzle, but none offered a complete picture.
At the edge of the plaza, a group of magic researchers debated heatedly. Their robes were smudged with ash, and their eyes glimmered with an almost manic intensity as they pored over charts and magical readings.
"I'm telling you, the mana flows are disrupted," one of them argued, jabbing a finger at a glowing map. "Look at this—these spikes in energy aren't natural. Something is pulling on the ley lines, drawing power away from the region's core."
"Ley lines don't just shift on their own," another countered. "There has to be an external force. Perhaps a rift or an artifact buried deep within the valley?"
Kalem stepped closer. "What would happen if the ley lines were disrupted like this?"
The first researcher glanced up, startled. "The creatures of the valley—Galgameth, Lava Worms, everything—they rely on the natural flow of mana to sustain themselves. If that flow is interrupted, it could drive them into dormancy or force them to migrate."
Kalem frowned. "So, you're saying something might be draining the mana?"
"Precisely," the researcher said. "But what could do that... we don't know."
Later, Kalem joined a group of miners who were clustered around a rough sketch of the valley's new topography. Their hands were calloused, their faces lined with years of toil, but their insights carried the weight of experience.
"Those new fissures," one miner said, pointing to a section of the map. "They're too clean, too precise. Natural eruptions don't carve the land like that."
Another miner nodded. "It's like something is tunneling through the rock. And if it's not the Lava Worms, then what is it?"
Kalem leaned over the map. "Could it be another kind of creature?"
"Maybe," the first miner replied. "But if it is, it's something we've never seen before. And that scares me more than the Worms ever did."
When the sun began to set, Kalem sought out the Augury. He found the enigmatic figure atop a ridge overlooking the valley, his cloak billowing in the evening breeze.
"You've been listening," the Augury said without turning.
Kalem nodded. "Everyone has a theory, but none of them seem complete. Do you have any idea what's going on?"
The Augury was silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "The valley is a crucible, Kalem—a place where the forces of nature, magic, and time converge. For centuries, it has endured cycles of chaos and renewal, each one feeding into the next. But this... this is different."
He turned to face Kalem, his expression grave. "The creatures are afraid. They sense something we cannot. I have felt it too—a presence, ancient and powerful, stirring beneath the surface. If my intuition is correct, it could be the source of the disruption."
Kalem's grip on his axe tightened. "And if you're wrong?"
"Then we must face the unknown with what strength we have," the Augury said. "Either way, we cannot afford to be idle."
Back at the Ironworks, the master smiths were hard at work. Kalem joined Vornar and Tharic in the main forge, where enchanted weapons and tools were being crafted at a furious pace. The air was thick with the scent of molten metal and the hum of magic as runes were painstakingly etched into blades and armor.
Vornar paused his work to address Kalem. "What have you learned from all these theories?"
"Pieces of a puzzle," Kalem admitted. "But nothing definitive. The researchers think it's the ley lines. The miners think something's tunneling. The Augury... he thinks it's something ancient."
Tharic snorted. "Sounds like a lot of guesswork to me."
"It is," Kalem said. "But if even half of it is true, we're dealing with something far beyond the Season of Fire."
Vornar nodded. "Then we'd better be ready for anything. Grab that hammer, Kalem—we've got work to do."
As the days continued to pass, the tension in the valley grew more palpable. The dormancy of the creatures allowed for a fragile peace, but it was a peace laced with fear. The various groups in the valley—Ironworks smiths, researchers, nobles, and merchants—began to prepare for the possibility of a new threat.
Kalem spent his nights in the forge, perfecting his weapons and experimenting with runes. He found himself drawn to the enchanted axe Tavian had given him, now reforged into a new creation. Its runes seemed to hum with anticipation, as if it too sensed the storm brewing on the horizon.
During one quiet moment, Kalem stood at the edge of the Ironworks, staring out at the valley. The ash clouds had thinned, revealing a blood-red sky streaked with gold. The silence was deafening.
"We're running out of time," he murmured to himself.
Behind him, Vornar approached, his expression grim. "We'll face it together, Kalem. Whatever it is, we'll stand our ground."
Kalem nodded, his resolve hardening. He didn't know what lay ahead, but he knew he couldn't afford to falter.
The night before the Augury's next meeting, Kalem found himself unable to sleep. He wandered the Ironworks, his mind racing with questions and possibilities. As he passed the forge, he saw Vornar and Tharic still working, their determination unwavering.
"Get some rest," Vornar called without looking up.
"Can't," Kalem replied. "Too much on my mind."
Tharic chuckled. "You're not the only one. But worrying won't change what's coming. We'll handle it like we always do—one blow at a time."
Kalem smiled faintly. Despite the uncertainty, he felt a flicker of hope. Together, they would face whatever lay ahead.
And when the storm finally broke, they would be ready. Or so he hoped.