Arwin studied the single gauntlet that rested on the anvil before him. He’d made it by letting the Mesh guide his work but hadn’t allowed any magic into it. The gauntlet was made from Roughsteel and was, for lack of a better word, functional. The fingers were made out of connected segments, as was a single piece near the wrist to allow for lateral movement. He’d used a similar strategy to the way he’d made Lillia’s armor. And, as he put the gauntlet onto his hand and flexed his fingers, he had to admit that the Mesh had led him well. The gauntlet wasn’t padded so he wouldn’t have called it comfortable, but it was movable. He rolled his wrist and flexed each of his fingers to make sure everything could move without impediment. “I think I’m starting to see exactly how my class is meant to work,” Arwin mused to himself. “The Mesh shows me the basic way to craft something and guides my hands when making it, but if I want the best result, I just use that piece as a reference, not the final result. It’s a prototype. Then I get fancy and get the proper materials and traits by making it myself and putting in my own magic.” He studied the gauntlet for a few more minutes, then pulled it off and set it to the side. There were already a number of changes he wanted to make when it came to crafting something for himself and his allies, but he still needed more practice making gauntlets before he could set about dealing with those. It was one thing to make a piece when the Mesh literally guided his hand and showed him what to do. It was entirely different when he had to do it on his own, and making any significant changes to its form would further complicate things. Fortunately, he had a whole lot of time to practice. Even though he was a little low on Brightsteel, he had a ridiculous number of scales to work with. Having some Wyrm armor would definitely help him make more of an impression on the adventurers that showed up tomorrow than plain metal would. The heart from Jessen’s room thumped away in his bag, drawing his attention for a brief moment. Its time would come soon, after he’d cashed in on all the seeds they’d planted by clearing the dungeon. Intentional or not, opportunity waited for no man. Arwin got to work, using a mixture of the Mesh’s guidance as well as his own steadily growing knowledge as he worked to make suits of armor as quickly as he could. Even with the power of [Soul Flame], making armor wasn’t fast and he didn’t have much time. “I guess,” Reya allowed. “But that’s not who they are now. I used to be a thief — and if I’m being honest, I think I’m more of a thief now than Arwin is the weapon of the Adventurer’s Guild.” A small smile passed over Olive’s lips and she snorted. “Yeah. Probably. I just don’t get how you can look at them like they’re the same as us. They aren’t.” “I spent years on Milten’s streets,” Reya said after a few seconds of silence. “And you come to learn that it really doesn’t matter who people used to be. All that matters is who they are now. I never had the liberty to pick and choose more than that. Besides, Arwin and Lillia only ever wanted to protect people. It’s not their fault.” “I know that.” Olive set her fork down and her hand clenched. “And I feel even worse about thinking because of it. Isn’t it unfair that I can’t see them the same after all they lost?” Reya sent her a concerned frown. She had absolutely no idea what she was meant to say to help Olive feel better. She wasn’t a fancy talker. She was a street thief. Is this how Arwin felt when he was trying to give me advice about how to speak to Olive? “Perhaps you are approaching the issue from the wrong angle.” Reya and Olive spun as Madiv emerged from a shadowed corner of the inn. “Godspit. Where did you come from?” Olive asked. “I took refuge in the corner since last night, so I would not need to request re-entry to the tavern. I am not at fault that your conversation reached my ears unbidden.” Madiv adjusted his frilly coat and his thin lips flattened. “But it seems you believe that your logic and emotions must align.” Olive’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” “From what little context I have, it seems you recently learned the truth of the Hero and my Mistress. It has changed your view of them. You know that their actions were just, but you feel that it has distanced you from them. This causes you to feel worse, as it is disrespectful to feel in such a manner when they appear to have done no wrong. You feel like you are being unfair.” Blinking in surprise, Olive gave Madiv a small nod. “Yeah. That just about summarizes it, I guess. How’d you figure all of that out from just this talk?” “Less the talk and more the eyes. They hold great power. Power that I once held influence over, but no longer,” Madiv said with a small smile. “But even now, there is much information that can be gleaned from a simple glance.” Reya squinted at the vampire. “What, you’re saying you can tell what I’m thinking just from looking at someone’s eyes? How in the Nine Underlands were you so horrid at selling things then? You should have been a genius!” Madiv grimaced and blew out a puff of air. His features grew serious. “I exaggerated. In truth, I understood Olive because I recognize her thoughts as my own. There was a time when I found myself on the same path. The exact same one.” “About Arwin and Lillia?” “Lillian,” Madiv corrected, almost automatically. “Yes. I served in her army faithfully for years. I killed for her. I slaughtered for her. I never expected to meet her in person. And, when I did, I found that she had taken on our greatest enemy as her consort. She betrayed everything we fought for.” “I don’t think the war was what you thought it was,” Reya said slowly. “Arwin—” “I am no fool.” Madiv raised a hand to forestall Reya. “It is clear to me that the war reeks of falsehood. There is much I do not know. That understanding does nothing to change what I have seen. What I have done. No matter the cause, thousands on thousands lie dead. I have seen things I do not wish to see. Done things I do not wish to do. It is a feeling that only one who was there themselves could understand. A part of me hates Lillian for taking the Hero on as consort upon the bodies of all those that died in attempt to kill him.” “And?” Olive asked, her eyes firmly affixed on Madiv. “What did you do about it?” A small smile played across the vampire’s lips. “Nothing. I am far older than you, and I have come to realize that my emotions and my logic must not always be in agreement. It is acceptable for me to feel distress at the loss of my companions. I understand that the Hero of Lian is not who I thought him to be, but it does not make the feeling any softer. Only time will do that.” “You just ignore everything other than logic?” Reya asked. “No,” Madiv said. “I do not ignore my feelings. Such a thing will tear you apart from within. You must understand your feelings, and then make the choice not to let them control you. The truth is a riverbank and emotion, the water rushing through it. Attempting to stem the river will only cause it to overflow and find its own routes. Only by allowing emotion to flow can you choose the path of the river yourself.” “And how do you do that?” Olive asked, her voice soft. “By making a choice. Regardless of what I feel, Lillian has the best interests of our kind at heart. In the end, I choose to serve my Queen.” Olive’s cloudy features were unreadable, but something in her eyes had shifted. It wasn’t quite a decision, but it wasn’t the lack of one either. “That’s… insightful. Even if I’m not sure I fully understand it.” “It is a river, not a lake. The only way to truly feel flowing water is to be within it,” Madiv said with a wry grin. Before any of them could say anything else, the door to the tavern swung open and Anna strode inside. She spotted them sitting at the counter and blew out a relieved breath.