For two weeks, the Ironworks blazed with relentless energy. The steady clang of Kalem's hammer against metal rang out day and night, echoing across the valley. He had thrown himself into his work with single-minded determination, forging tools and weapons of exceptional quality. The pile of completed items in his workspace grew steadily, a testament to his skill and tireless effort.
Tharic arrived one morning, arms crossed as he observed Kalem wiping sweat from his brow and setting another gleaming blade onto the ever-growing stack. The dwarf's gruff voice cut through the din of the forge.
"Boy, are you planning to drain the valley of every scrap of metal?"
Kalem paused mid-motion, startled. "What? No, I just… need enough to cover the Academy's fees. And supplies for the journey."
Tharic snorted and strode over, snatching the hammer from Kalem's hands. "That's enough. You've got a pile here big enough to arm an entire militia. Sit down before you drop from exhaustion."
Kalem frowned, his gaze darting to the stack of tools and weapons. "But what if it's not enough? I can't risk showing up unprepared."
At that moment, Augury entered the forge, his robe fluttering slightly as if caught in a breeze only he could feel. He surveyed the scene with an arched brow and a faint smirk. "Has no one bothered to tell him yet?"
Kalem glanced between them, confused. "Tell me what?"
"That you don't need to worry about fees at the Arcathis Academy," Augury said, his tone tinged with amused exasperation. "As long as you demonstrate talent—which you undoubtedly have—your admission and expenses are covered. The Bank sponsors it, remember?"
Kalem's hammer fell from his hand, clanging against the stone floor. "You mean all this work was… unnecessary?"
"Entirely," Augury replied with a shrug. "But at least you've got enough stock to trade for any supplies you might need on your journey. Or a year's worth of meals, for that matter."
Kalem sat heavily on a nearby bench, his shoulders sagging. For the first time in days, he allowed himself a moment of rest, his mind grappling with the realization. Tharic clapped him on the back, his hearty laugh filling the forge.
"You're not the first youngster to overprepare, lad, and you won't be the last. Consider it a lesson in efficiency."
Kalem managed a sheepish smile. "I suppose it's better to have too much than too little."
The following days were a whirlwind of last-minute preparations. Kalem packed his belongings meticulously, sorting through the tools and weapons he would take with him to trade along the way. Vornar and Tharic helped him load the supplies onto a sturdy wagon, ensuring it could handle the long journey ahead.
On the eve of his departure, the group gathered at Tharic's modest home for a final meal. The atmosphere was warm but tinged with bittersweet emotions. Vornar raised a mug of ale, his deep voice resonating with sincerity.
"To Kalem," he said. "May your journey be safe, your skills grow sharper, and your heart stay true to the valley that raised you."
"Hear, hear," Tharic added, lifting his own mug before draining it in one go.
As the conversation shifted, the topic inevitably turned to Kalem's preparations. Vornar leaned forward, his tone curious. "So, Augury, you've been awfully quiet about this Academy business. How do you know so much about it?"
Augury set down his cup, his expression inscrutable. "The Bank's influence is vast, and its reputation precedes it. Even I, in my years of… let's say unconventional pursuits, have encountered its reach."
Tharic narrowed his eyes. "Years, you say? Just how old are you, anyway?"
Augury's lips curved into a faint smile. "I've seen two centuries and then some. High elves tend to live long lives, though I've outpaced most of my kin."
Vornar blinked, taken aback. "Two hundred years? And you've never mentioned it before?"
"It rarely comes up," Augury replied with a shrug. "Besides, I've spent much of that time in solitude, studying and refining my craft. Time passes differently when you're focused."
Tharic chuckled. "Well, that explains a lot. But you still haven't answered the question: why does the Bank sponsor the Academy so generously?"
Augury's gaze turned serious. "Because cultivating talent benefits them in the long run. The Arcathis Academy isn't just a school; it's a hub for fostering the brightest minds and the most skilled artisans. Those who excel often go on to create innovations or solve problems that even The Bank finds valuable. It's an investment, not charity."
Kalem listened intently, the weight of his decision settling over him. He had always seen himself as a craftsman of the valley, but now, the world beyond beckoned with promises of knowledge and growth.
The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight bathed the valley in gold, Kalem stood beside his wagon, packed and ready. Vornar, Tharic, and Augury were there to see him off. Tharic placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Take care out there, lad. And don't forget where you came from."
"I won't," Kalem said, his voice steady despite the lump in his throat.
Vornar handed him a small, intricately carved pendant. "For luck. And as a reminder that the valley will always be your home."
Augury, standing slightly apart, gave a faint smile. "You have what it takes to succeed, Kalem. Trust yourself, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
With one last look at the valley that had been his entire world, Kalem climbed onto the wagon and took the reins. The road ahead was long and uncertain, but for the first time, he felt ready to face it. As the wagon rolled away, his mentors watched in silence, their pride and hope following him into the horizon.