The air in the Ironworks had become tense, though few would openly admit it. The Augury's role in guiding their survival during the Season of Fire had always been paramount, his predictions treated with reverence bordering on faith. Yet, for the first time, cracks were starting to appear in his infallible image—at least to Kalem.
The past week had seen the Augury issue a series of warnings: tremors strong enough to split open the valley floor, eruptions capable of reshaping the terrain, and lava flows that would overrun the outer settlements. Yet, while the valley remained dangerous, none of these dire predictions had come to pass.
Kalem stood near one of the makeshift barracks, watching as workers dismantled hastily built barricades around a zone that had been deemed "at risk." The defensive measures, implemented at the Augury's urging, now seemed unnecessary, a waste of manpower and resources.
"Third time this week," muttered a burly smith beside him, shaking his head as he swung a hammer to disassemble a wooden palisade. "Can't fault the Augury for being cautious, but it's getting hard to keep up with all these false alarms."
Kalem nodded but didn't respond. Instead, he walked toward the plaza where the Augury had delivered his most recent set of instructions. The workers bustled around him, their chatter a mix of gratitude for their relative safety and frustration at the constant disruptions.
Kalem found Tharic at a small smithy tucked near the heart of the Ironworks. The older man was hunched over an anvil, his hammer striking rhythmically against a glowing blade. Sparks flew with every impact, but Tharic's focus never wavered.
"Tharic," Kalem began, his voice hesitant.
Tharic paused, wiping sweat from his brow as he looked up. "Something on your mind, lad?"
Kalem hesitated before speaking. "Have you noticed anything… off about the Augury's predictions?"
Tharic's brow furrowed. "Off? What do you mean?"
Kalem stepped closer, lowering his voice. "He's been wrong. A lot. Those tremors he warned about? Never happened. The eruptions? The flows? Nothing. And it's not just one or two mistakes—it's consistent."
Tharic chuckled, though it was a soft, weary sound. "You've got sharp eyes, I'll give you that. But you're overthinking this, Kalem. The Augury's been guiding us for years. Decades. If he's being extra cautious, it's because he knows what's at stake."
"But—" Kalem began, only for Tharic to hold up a hand.
"Listen, lad. You're new here. The Ironworks, the Season of Fire—it's all still fresh to you. You're seeing patterns where there aren't any because you don't have the full picture. Trust me, the Augury knows what he's doing."
Kalem frowned, Tharic's words doing little to ease his unease. "What if he doesn't? What if there's something we're not seeing? Something he's not telling us?"
Tharic sighed, setting his hammer down. "Kalem, I get it. You've got a good head on your shoulders, and you're not afraid to question things. That's a strength. But don't let it turn into mistrust. The Augury's earned his place. If he's wrong now and then, it's because no one—elf, human, or otherwise—is perfect."
The following day, the Augury delivered another set of warnings, this time about a potential fissure opening near one of the outer supply depots. Workers scrambled to reinforce the area, evacuating materials and building makeshift barriers to contain any possible eruption.
Kalem joined the effort, his unease simmering beneath the surface. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong—not just with the Augury's predictions, but with the entire situation.
By dusk, the work was done. The depot stood empty, its contents relocated to safer ground. But as the hours passed, the tremor the Augury had predicted never came.
Kalem sat on a stone ledge overlooking the depot, watching as the stars began to emerge in the ash-laden sky. Tharic joined him, a flask of ale in hand.
"Quiet night," Tharic said, taking a swig.
Kalem nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Too quiet."
Tharic chuckled, nudging Kalem with his elbow. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?"
"I can't," Kalem admitted. "I don't know what it is, but something about all this doesn't add up. The Augury's warnings, the creatures' behavior—it's like there's a piece missing."
Tharic sighed, setting the flask down. "Look, Kalem. If you really think there's something going on, keep your eyes open. But don't go jumping to conclusions. The Augury's done more for this valley than anyone else ever could. Remember that."
Kalem nodded, though his thoughts remained troubled. As the night deepened, he resolved to pay closer attention—not just to the Augury's words, but to his actions.
For now, he would bide his time. But the nagging sense of unease refused to leave him, a quiet whisper in the back of his mind that refused to be silenced.