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Chapter 246 - Searching for What Can’t Be Forged

Argolaith stood at the edge of Elyrion, watching the twin stars shimmer in the sky.

His thoughts weren't on spells today.

They were on steel.

He didn't want a weapon of destruction.

He wanted a sword that understood the weight of judgment.

One that could pass through the innocent like mist—but stop the wicked in their tracks.

The idea had clung to him ever since Faeryn left.

Not magic. Not violence. But a symbol.

A blade that could tell truth from malice.

He returned to the academy the next morning.

Not for classes—but for the library.

There, beneath glowing lanterns and dust-heavy shelves, he searched for books on the ancient art of forging.

He read about celestial alloys, soul-tempered blades, and forges that used dragonfire.

Time slipped away as pages turned and ink settled deep into his thoughts.

The librarian cleared her throat after what must've been days.

"Out. You need rest."

Argolaith looked up, eyes dry and heavy, and nodded.

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