The days following the meeting at the forge were tense. While life at the academy continued as normal—lectures, training, and routine assignments—there was an undeniable shift in the air. Whispers in the halls, hushed conversations in the marketplace, and the occasional shadow lingering just a moment too long.
Kalem kept to his usual schedule, working in the forge, attending classes, and fine-tuning his weapons and armor. But he also kept his ears open. Every night, reports of suspicious individuals and activity in Eyrendyl piled up. Rumors of masked figures, sudden disappearances, and quiet deaths spread like wildfire.
Lyra was right. The Blood Nights had begun.
At first, it seemed distant—something happening in the underbelly of the city, far removed from the academy. But as the days passed, Kalem noticed the change in his peers.
Some students became more reclusive, avoiding unnecessary interactions. Others sharpened their weapons more often, practicing longer at the training grounds. Even the instructors seemed more watchful, their gazes lingering on students who showed too much interest in political affairs.
One evening, Kalem spotted a pair of upper-year students whispering near the entrance of the alchemy building. He couldn't hear their words, but the tension in their posture was unmistakable. A few minutes later, another figure approached them—hooded, their face obscured. A brief exchange, a passing of a small vial, and then they parted ways.
Poisons. The demand was real.
Kalem exhaled, adjusting his grip on his satchel. He turned away, making his way toward the forge. He had his own work to do.
True to his word, Kalem had begun working on the armor for Lyra and Nara.
With Lyra's guidance (and occasional exasperated sighs), he adjusted the steel plates to accommodate different proportions while keeping the same level of flexibility and protection. It wasn't as simple as just reshaping them—certain joints needed more mobility, and he had to consider the weight distribution differently.
Nara, of course, found the entire process hilarious.
"So, Kalem, did you ever think you'd be sitting here, staring at sketches of women's armor like a confused apprentice?" she teased, lounging on a barrel nearby.
Kalem didn't look up from his work. "No."
"Learning anything new?" she smirked.
"That it's more complicated than I expected."
Lyra chuckled. "Welcome to our world."
By the end of the week, Kalem had finished both sets—slimmer, more refined versions of the ones he made for Jhaeros and Garrick, but just as effective.
When Nara and Lyra tried them on, Kalem found himself studying their movements closely. They were both pleased—Nara flexing her arms and twisting her torso to test the mobility, while Lyra adjusted the fit around her shoulders.
Nara grinned. "Alright, I take it back. You're not completely hopeless."
Kalem rolled his eyes. "Good to know."
It was a quiet afternoon when Kalem received an unexpected visitor at the forge.
A courier, dressed in the distinct formal attire of The Bank, approached him as he was hammering out a new blade. The young man was composed but his eyes held a sharpness that suggested he wasn't just an ordinary messenger.
"Kalem," he greeted with a polite nod, holding out a sealed letter.
Kalem wiped the sweat from his brow and took the letter, breaking the wax seal. His eyes scanned the contents quickly.
It was a subtle warning.
The Bank had noticed the increased recruitment of assassins and the growing instability in the city. While they maintained neutrality, they advised their "valued clients" to exercise caution. Specifically, Kalem was reminded that his recent dealings had drawn attention—some of it unwanted.
Kalem folded the letter, his expression unreadable. The fact that The Bank had gone out of its way to send him a message meant things were worse than he thought.
The courier cleared his throat. "Do you have a response?"
Kalem thought for a moment before shaking his head. "No response. But tell them I understand."
The courier nodded once, then turned and left without another word.
Kalem exhaled slowly, staring down at the letter.
The Blood Nights weren't just a distant concern anymore.
They were getting closer.