Page 51 of What Beats Within the Tunnels

“An armory? What does that entail?” I probe as we start to walk toward the entryway to the mine.

“In essence, I craft and forge weapons and other military gear. I also trade in unique weapons and magical artifacts. Beyond that, I manage my staff and handle any repairs that come our way,” he elaborates. The profession sounds intriguing, and it strikes me that Dorian would be a valuable ally to have. His connection to Bim makes even more sense now. If Bim leads Nyx’s military, they must collaborate frequently.

Colton chimes in, “Dorian could craft something especially for you – maybe a custom dagger or a light yet powerful sword. It’s why I wanted you to come along today.” I remember the physical training back in Zomea, where I had grown fond of wielding a sword. They could be cumbersome, but Colton often reminded me not to rely solely on magic, especially after hearing about Z. I wonder how many places nullify magic like that. The question irks me, but I hesitate, not wanting to sour the mood with memories of her.

“A dagger sounds wonderful. I prefer a sword, but they can be a hassle to lug around,” I admit.

“How about I fashion you a sword paired with a magical sheath? When stored, it’d be no larger than a dagger, but once unsheathed it will reveal its full size,” Dorian offers.

“That sounds incredible.” I didn’t even know that was possible, but nothing should surprise me anymore.

“What kind of magic do you have?” I ask, changing the subject.

“I have a bit of elemental magic in me. I can do very basic things with the elements. My primary gift is necromancy,” Dorian says. As he says the word “necromancy,” his blue eyes glow briefly in the dim light of the mine.

“I’ve never met a Faery with necromancy magic before. I mean, I haven’t known many Fae, but still… Is it a rare gift?” I inquire.

“Having necromancy magic isn’t rare exactly. Many Fae possess traces of it, enabling them merely to sense the life force of another and gauge their strength. What’s uncommon is the excessive amount of necromancy magic Dorian has,” Colton answers.

I shift my gaze between the two of them. “So what kind of things can you do?” I ask.

Dorian drags his fingers along the wall as we start to descend further into the mountain. I try not to think about how being underground makes me feel. Gods, this is also a really tight cave, and that makes me even more uncomfortable. Colton wraps an arm around my shoulder, squeezing me gently, probably sensing my anxiety. I try to focus on Chepi flying up ahead while I listen to Dorian.

“Necromancy is often misunderstood and feared. I can’t bring the dead back to life in their original form, contrary to what some believe. At times, I can act as a conduit, relaying messages between the living and the dead or obtaining information.”

“Can you visit Zomea, like with midnight mind?” I ask. Then it strikes me, I wonder how much Dorian knows about me and what things Colton has told him about my magic and the power I’m destined to control.

He shakes his head. “No, it’s different. I can meditate and beckon a spirit to communicate, but it’s not always successful, and the interactions are fleeting. The most distinct ability I have is called Temporal Echoes.”

That’s a new one for me. “What does that entail?”

He pauses, searching for the right way to put it. “I can summon visions of past events that transpired in a specific location. Essentially, it’s witnessing a spectral reenactment of history,” he explains.

The idea of him being able to conjure up historical events is captivating. I hope I’ll have the chance to witness that power in action one day. Such an ability is undoubtedly beneficial but could also be dangerous. I imagine many seek to take advantage of it.

Suddenly, the path before us reveals walls veined with glistening streaks. Scattered around are baskets filled with black and blue rocks, each emitting a faint, radiant glow. Colton gestures toward the baskets, explaining, “This, Lyra, is why we’re here.”

Intrigued, I approach one of the baskets, with Chepi cautiously sniffing them from a distance. “What are these?”

Dorian picks up a stone and, with a slight smirk, tosses it my way. Catching it, I’m entranced by its intricate pattern—bluish-gray with shimmering flecks. “Iron,” Dorian clarifies, “specifically, the base of what I use to produce starforged steel.”

“We call it starforged because this is the only mine located this close to the stars,” Colton adds.

Drawing a connection, I pose, “So you’re collecting this to craft specialized weapons?”

Dorian nods. “Right, but there’s more. Colton approached me with a particular request.”

Turning to Colton, I’m met with his reassuring gaze. “I thought it’d be fitting for Dorian to design something unique for you, a weapon that resonates only with your essence. While I can explain its significance, the intricacies of its creation are Dorian’s expertise.”

Dorian chuckles, stepping forward, “Indeed, let’s leave the intricacies to me. For this weapon, I’ll need you to select five of these stones and imbue them with your essence. Your choice will guide the weapon’s character and capabilities.”

“Five stones, infused with my magic?”

Colton chuckles softly. “Exactly. Pick them, channel a burst of your power into them, then drop them into this pouch,” Dorian instructs, tossing me an ornate velvet bag. The task seems straightforward.

I peruse the baskets, selecting five intriguing stones. Holding each, I envision my magic flowing into it, feeling a responsive throb from the stone before letting it tumble into the bag. Once I’ve selected all five, I present the pouch to Dorian.

“That’s all?” I ask in disbelief.