The image of the Animiculus; its countless mouths wailing in a dead language as it chased the two of them was seared into a part of his memory. Kandar recentered himself. Breathe in. Count to four. Exhale.

  He woke up to the sight of a very familiar ceiling. His room in his parents' estate. Sunlight sifts through a small gap in the curtain, struggling to illuminate the otherwise dark room. After that Animiculus hunt, his own bed felt incredibly soft. He sank in it, releasing a comfortable sigh. Long minutes pass before he made the decision to get up. Pain shot up from the right side of his chest. His torso was completely covered in bandages. His right arm hung from a sling.

  That avalanche, the rock that hit his chest – it's all coming back. One other thought wandered into his mind.

  It was over. Samira was gone. He was never going to meet her again. Kandar smiled sadly. Not even a chance to say goodbye, or part under better terms. It did take a mountain to knock him out, but still...

  He sat by the bedside and chuckled. His backpack was on the table by his bed. He pulled something out of the side pockets.

  A bullet from Samira's gun, pristine and unused. It was functionally useless to him, he had no worldforger's gun nor was he properly trained in its use aside from Samira's crash-course before the big fight.

  'It'll look good as a necklace.'

  Another thought popped up. Hospital bills. It must've eaten a chunk of his bounty already. He let out a small curse. But then again, considering all the fun, all he learnt, the thrill of hunting down an Animiculus, the fear of standing beneath an avalanche, and all the time he spent with such a talented Worldforger...

  It was worth it.

  His stomach grumbled. Hungry. How long was he out?

  Eventually he made it to his door. He used the handle to help him stand as he opened it. It was already evening; his parents should be home soon. Mondo the butler should have some food ready for dinner. And indeed, the moment he saw the stairs he smelled something delicious wafting through the air. He heard the voices of his younger brother and sister – and someone else.

  A woman's voice. It was too distant to identify. His siblings were far louder than her. He carefully navigated the stairs, using the wooden handrail as a crutch. His eyes wandered to the ceiling. There used to be a leak there, staining the ceiling black, brown and green. It was all gone. Someone repaired it. It couldn't be his brother's doing – he was too young to fix leaky roofs. It wasn't the local handymen either, the work was far too neat with zero imperfections in the paintwork.

  The voice was clearer now. He dared not believe his ears. That woman's voice was all too familiar – but he had to be sure. He peeked into the dining room.

  His younger siblings were chasing each other around the dining table. Soon enough their little game carried them to the corridor on the other side of the room, their incessant yelling echoing across the house.

  Samira was there, sitting quietly on one side of the dining table facing him. She was fully immersed in a paperback book she held in her left hand, while taking notes with her right. The sun's warm light bathed the entire room, and she seemed to glow with it. Her red-and-gold robe was replaced by a blue-and-red one now. Colors he recognized as that of a student worldforger.

  He entered the room. "Samira...?" he asked.

  She raised her head to face him and smiled. "Kandar, I'm glad to see you up and about," she said, setting aside her notes and book. "How are you feeling?"

  "Like someone's been dancing on my chest!" He said, chuckling for a second before he clutched his chest once more. "Almost forgot the pain."

  "Mind if I join you?" he asked.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  "It's your house, Kandar. I should be the one asking."

  He sat across from her. He glanced at the book she was holding. As it turns out, that book was one of his younger brother Jori's textbooks. Specifically on basic control of elements in worldforging.

  "Wait, are you doing Jori's homework?"

  "No, I'm criticizing the way this book is written. It's trash," She answered, glancing at the book with disgust. "Would you believe me if I say this book has an activities section featuring pyromancy as homework?"

  "I... would not. Why would anyone think that's a good idea?"

  "No idea. I'm writing a letter to Jori's school so that his homework is outright cancelled. I hope no one's stupid enough to actually do it."

  A distant firemen's siren blared somewhere deeper in the city.

  "Well, I hope that's an unrelated fire, then." She sighed.

  A short while later, the bell rang twice.

  The postman arrived early this morning. That doesn't happen unless he gets a bonus or something extra important is in the mail.

  Samira was the one who took the letters from the postman. She ruffled through the pile and picked one. Kandar noticed the wax seal.

  Whoever sent it was a runesmith of some skill. That letter's seal was meant to keep out water, moisture, and insects – one of the runes he failed to duplicate during his days in school. The one that made him decide that runesmithing isn't his path in life.

  "You got a letter? No wonder the postman came early."

  "Yeah, it's from my kid."

  ........................

  ................

  ....

  "Why are you looking at me like that, Kandar?

  "Excuse me? You never told me you have a child."

  "Well, aren't you a nosy bastard?" She said, smiling, not expecting answers. She placed her thumb over the seal – it unfurled by itself, opening the envelope.

  Okay that runesmith kid of hers has serious skill

  "So, you have a child. Who is a Runesmith. They have skill. And use it to write letters sealed in runic wax stamps to you."

  "Yes, yes, most certainly, and very true, as you can see." She said, almost showing off her kid's letter envelope and the unfurled wax seal.

  "Okay one lie: she isn't really my kid. I'm her guardian. Her name's Lirra. Yes, she is a Runesmith. She owns a runesmithing shop."

  The headache is not coming back after all. Kandar let out a relieved sigh. Samira read her letter.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Samira,

  I'm buying a lintel stone for the shop today! The old one was too old and it doesn't handle moisture well. I didn't want to hold off too long and risk it breaking early, so I met up with a Collegia rep to order one.

  The price isn't too brutal. I didn't buy one they infused – I'll put the runes on it myself. I picked one made of that stone that holds under damp, forgot the name. I already have a list of runes I'll put on it.

  The shop's doing fine. Better than fine, actually. I keep my tools clean. Washed them before I move on to the next order. Yesterday a Freeblade and his Worldforger wife came in the shop. They wanted the wife's catalyst to handle cooking better than combat. I gave them the works - runes, restoration, polish. That catalyst must've been an heirloom or something. No jewels or engraving yet, but the metal was expensive. Engraving the runes took longer than I thought. Nearly broke my stylus twice. Managed to save the bit.

  Does it get easier? The work I mean. I keep running into problems people pay me to solve, but sometimes it feels like I'm banging my head against a wall. Sometimes I can't sleep. I can't keep my head out of work. Orders I haven't finished for the day. How many I can take the next day before I run out of room. It's so noisy.

  I might have to hire some help soon. Please do stop by when you've got the chance. I have coffee beans a customer gave me as a gift. I won't open it until you're here.

  Love,

  ---Lirra

  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Samira smiled. She read the letter six times over. The final two rereads took much longer.

  She left the book she was criticizing and now focused on drafting a new letter.

  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Lirra,

  I received your note about the shop's lintel stone. You chose well.

  If it holds under damp, it will hold under anything short of deliberate misuse. Don't let the Collegia representative tell you otherwise—half their standards are ceremonial.

  I won't be able to visit for some time. This assignment is... complicated. Nothing you need to worry about. I'm still breathing, which is the only thing that matters.

  You asked whether the work ever becomes easier once you understand the systems behind it.

  No.

  But it does become quieter.

  You'll learn where to place your effort so it doesn't echo. That's not the same as hiding. It's choosing what deserves to be heard.

  Keep your accounts clean. Don't extend credit twice to the same person without collateral. And if someone asks you to make something that solves a problem forever, refuse them. That isn't caution. It's professionalism.

  I'm proud of you.

  — Samira