In her past life, Carmen was no artist. Most of her skills, focused on primitive living, were functional at best. Before the world had changed, she’d considered herself a passable metalworker, though she’d lacked the expertise to truly call herself a blacksmith. And her other skills were the result of her studies rather than true interest in their various processes.

  Of course, that had changed alongside the world, and she’d delved deeper into blacksmithing than she’d ever thought possible. Her system-granted skills gave her insight into metallurgy and metalworking that would have been unthinkable on pre-World Tree Earth. For instance, through Blacksmith’s Instincts, she could sense the underlying composition of any metal – which was particularly useful when she was creating alloys. Knowing an ingot’s precise structure gave her the ability to meticulously plan each blend of metals.

  Despite those abilities – and her plethora of experience working with metal – she lacked the foundation, built over a lifetime, of a person who’d always been committed to the craft. Because of that, her progress had always been slow. She was the world’s most powerful Blacksmith – a Forgemaster, after she’d reached ascension – but there were still others out there who knew more about the craft. Old masters who’d spent decades honing their skills.

  For her part, Carmen still felt like barely more than a novice.

  What’s more, she finally knew what it was like to be an artist. Evolving skills – both mundane and system granted – meant that, when she looked at her old work, she saw nothing but mistakes. It was like a master painter looking at stick figures, which meant it was very difficult to appreciate the artistry of her old self.

  So it was with the Forge of Creation.

  “It ain’t that complicated,” Kurik said, sitting nearby and twisting wire around itself. It would one day become part of a trap, though not one that would display the full breadth of his abilities. That lofty goal would require more natural materials, which he refused to waste on a project he kept referring to as something to keep his hands busy.

  Otherwise, he’d made himself entirely at home, kicking up his feet and reclining on the leather couch in Carmen’s office. The piece of furniture had definitely seen better days, largely because Carmen had a habit of plopping down, heedless of the embers clinging to her oft-singed clothing. In her defense, she barely felt that level of heat anymore.

  Meanwhile, Carmen sat on the edge of her desk, incredibly frustrated.

  “It sounds complicated to me,” she stated, trying not to roll her eyes. “Those matrices –”

  “They’re not one-size-fits-all,” he interrupted. “They’re just examples.”

  “I heard you the first time.”

  “But you ain’t listenin’.”

  “I said I –”

  “There’s a difference ‘tween hearin’ and listenin’. You ain’t doin’ the second one,” he pointed out.

  “That’s stupid.”

  He shrugged. “Don’t make it not true.”

  Carmen let out a sigh.

  “Don’t go sighin’ at me. I’m just the messenger.”

  “You just told me that the entire Forge of Creation is going to need to be rebuilt, almost from the ground up. I think more than a sigh is warranted,” she said.

  “Or you could just let it be,” Kurik suggested. “It’ll last for a few years the way it is. Ain’t nothin’ on Earth can really compete with it. Not in craftin’. But it ain’t gonna last forever. The foundations are flawed. No two ways about it. Don’t matter if you do it now or later, it’ll eventually need to be fixed.”

  “I should go to Kalki.”

  “No need. Miss Pandey’s comin’ here in a coupla days,” he said. “And she’s bringin’ a bunch of experts with her.”

  “I really wish you wouldn’t have invited her,” Carmen muttered. The woman was one of the most powerful people in the world – top ten, at least – and her insights would no doubt prove invaluable. However, Carmen couldn’t help but wonder just what she wanted from Ironshore. There was almost no way she was going to help out of the goodness of her heart, so it was reasonable to expect that she had some ulterior motive.

  “She invited her ownself,” he pointed out. “Like I said – I ain’t nothin’ but a messenger here. ‘sides, she’s a good person, and she wants to help. That’s good enough for me.”

  “But it’s not your creation on the line.”

  “There is that. Wouldn’t want to be in your shoes,” he acknowledged. “But if you want my advice?”

  “Sure.”

  “Go into the meetin’ with an open mind,” he said. “I was only in Kalki for a few months, and in that time, I learned more ‘bout ethereal matrices than I’d learned over the course of my whole life. You learn even half as much as I did, and the Forge of Creation’ll live up to the whole, ‘wonder of the world’ label.”

  Carmen shook her head. “Fine,” she said. “But I’m still skeptical.”

  “As well you should be. I think you’ll be surprised, though,” he said before pushing himself upright. He climbed to his feet and went on, “But I spent too long here already. If I don’t get home soon, Carissa’ll shave my beard.”

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  The image of a beardless dwarf brought a smile to Carmen’s face, though it faded soon after Kurik left her office. As much as she wanted to believe that Anupriya Pandey could help take the Forge of Creation to the next level, she feared that there were other machinations afoot.

  “Or maybe I’m just afraid of finding out I’m not as smart as I thought I was,” she muttered to herself. Of course, she already knew that the Forge of Creation had been based on a series of flawed concepts. But being aware of that and having someone point it out, and in great detail, was something else entirely.

  In the end, though, Carmen wanted what was best for what had become her home. The Forge of Creation wasn’t just a defining feature of Ironshore. It affected everything, giving the city an identity that it had otherwise lacked. And if the rest of the world outpaced its viability, then Ironshore would suffer.

  Carmen refused to accept that, and if preventing that eventuality meant she had to swallow her pride and accept the help of a powerful stranger, then so be it. With that in mind, she retrieved the old plans for the Forge of Creation and got to work cataloguing all of the mistakes they’d made.

  *    *    *

  Sadie pulled back her hand and smiled at the young girl she’d just healed. Her affliction hadn’t been very serious, but the other Healers in the Temple of Virtue wouldn’t have been able to cleanse the infection without a significant time investment. Sadie had managed it in a couple of hours.

  “You need to be careful when you go outside the city,” she said. “You know how to feel ethera, right?”

  The girl nodded self-seriously. She was no more than seven, though like so many others who’d been born into the changed world, she lacked the context to know just how dangerous things could get. After all, she’d spent most of her life inside Argos’ walls, where nothing could harm her. Only when she’d snuck out to play with her friends had she contracted an ethereal infection that had very nearly killed her.

  She didn’t even know where it had come from, though Sadie wasn’t certain if that was due to the girl’s age or some cleverly disguised contaminant. For all she knew, her patient had been infected by drinking unclean water when she and her companions had gone swimming in a nearby creek.

  They were lucky not to have been eaten by some territorial beast.

  “When you feel it thicken, get out of there as quickly as you can,” Sadie ordered. “And no more sneaking out of the city. It’s dangerous out there.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Sadie glanced up at the child’s parents, who’d remained silent while she’d healed their daughter. Doubtless, they blamed themselves for her infection. “You did nothing wrong,” she said. “Children are curious by nature, and the wilderness is enticing. In the future, just try to keep a better watch.”

  They assured her that they would, and soon enough, Sadie sent them on their way. That left her alone, and inevitably, her thoughts turned to her most recent failures. It had been months since she’d parted ways with Elijah, and in that time, not a single day had passed where she hadn’t felt guilty for sending him into that Primal Realm alone.

  Sure, he had Hu Shui and Benedict with him, but they weren’t true allies. They weren’t the sort of people who’d watch his back. Both were afflicted with the sin of self-interest, and that was a generous assessment of their faults. Benedict, at least, was a literal demon.

  She should have pushed her weakness aside and followed through with her plan to enter the Labyrinth of Dead Gods alongside Elijah. If not for her own sake, then for his.

  But faced with the repercussions of her own nature, she’d succumbed. She had lost control and been forced to recognize that, had she entered that Primal Realm, she would have become a liability. And Sadie had enough experience in those deathtraps to know that none of them could afford something like that.

  Rationally, she knew all of that.

  However, reason was nothing when faced with the all-encompassing potency of true guilt.

  To assuage those feelings, she’d retreated to the one place she felt truly at home – the Temple of Virtue. When she’d set out from Kalki, she hadn’t even known where she was going. That ignorance had persisted until she had reached the Conclave Spires and bought passage to Argos. Though in retrospect, her choice made perfect sense.

  The Hartwood Grove was her home, but without Elijah there, she felt no real connection to the place. The same was true of Ironshore, Svetogorsk, or Hong Kong. She had friends or family in all three locations, but none made her feel like she belonged.

  Not like the Temple of Virtue.

  Obviously, that was due to how her core cultivation had changed the tree and the temple itself. But in her state, she didn’t really care about the reasons. All she wanted was to feel comfortable so she could address her own inadequacy.

  The vehicle by which she did so was to work in the temple, just like any of the other Healers. While she wasn’t as specialized as they were, her high level and recently advanced core gave her spells enough added potency that she could keep up with the workload.

  And against all odds, she had found some degree of peace. There was something hypnotic and extraordinarily rewarding about healing people, and it reminded her of the days when such things felt much more important. Saving one life tended to lose its effect when she routinely fought to save hundreds, thousands, or even millions.

  But there was value in it, even if it didn’t always seem so.

  After the little girl and her parents left, Sadie checked to see if there were any other patients waiting to be treated. There weren’t, so she retreated to her favorite place – next to what she now referred to as the Tree of Order. Whether it was the peaceful atmosphere surrounding it or the fact that it resonated so strongly with her attunement, Sadie didn’t know. But when she sat next to it, she felt a deep sense of belonging and rightness that she’d never experienced anywhere else.

  It was in the shadow of its boughs that she always did her best thinking.

  In this instance, she turned her thoughts to her future. The fact was that she simply couldn’t keep going the way she was going. If she tried, she would drive herself insane as she attempted to live up to other people’s expectations for what she would become.

  “What do I want?” she asked herself as she sat cross-legged in the courtyard.

  The answer to that question was far from simple. As a woman, she wanted to spend the rest of her days with Elijah, to marry him and perhaps start a family someday. Not soon, but eventually. However, the state of the world – as well as their often conflicting personalities – told her that that desire was little more than a silly fantasy. Elijah was wrong for her in so many ways that it was a miracle they hadn’t killed one another yet.

  But she did love him, and he loved her as well. That had to count for something.

  Regardless, her entire being did not revolve around that relationship. As important as it was, she still had other goals. Other desires. She wanted to save the planet from excisement, but it went deeper than that. There was so much injustice in the world, and she felt driven to do something about that.

  But did she have any right to take action?

  Did she dare not to?

  In the end, she kept coming back to the Chorus of Angels and the facets of justice written into her mind cultivation. And slowly, an idea began to form. It was not something that would come to fruition anytime soon. In fact, it would mostly remain in her thoughts until the threat of excisement had faded.

  Justice. Order. Laws. They all coalesced into a singular vision that she hoped would light the way for all of humanity. She only needed to stay the course to find out.

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