The sound of a hammer hitting metal rings through the village, clear as a bell. Smoke rises above the rooftops, white and puffy as it slowly dissolves into nothing, swept away by the faint breeze. Swallows frolic against a blue, cloudless sky, their swift silhouettes streaking like shooting stars.

Located in the middle of the village is the smithy. It’s a sturdy building, with heavy stone walls and a large chimney connecting to the forge inside. The windows are all stained dark by soot and ash. Inside, Halcyon stares intently at the small runestone on the bench in front of him. Ríoga sits with her back to him, focused on her own project, a bejewelled necklace. In one paw, she holds a hammer with a small metal head, poised over the golden chain.

“How do you think this actually works?” Halcyon asks as he picks up the runestone between two claws and turns it over. A single rune is carved into the stone, no more than a groove with no magical properties - yet.

Ríoga tips the hammer in a shrug-like motion. “No idea; I haven’t done this before either, remember?”

“But you’ve been around enchanters all your life—”

There’s a loud clang as the hammer is put down on the worktable. “They didn’t really let me see what they were working on. That would have defeated the point.”

Chagrined, Halcyon mumbles, “Oh. Right."

The front door of the smithy is open, offering a view of the main street outside. A young, grey Ravager bustles by with a basket of various plants balanced precariously between his shoulders. The sharp, clear scent of medicinal herbs follows behind a moment later, cutting through the warm, earthy and metallic smell of an active smithy, and makes Halcyon’s nose itch.

“Hmm.” Ríoga holds the golden chain up to the light and tilts her head. “I think I’m ready to try, now”

With a sneeze narrowly avoided, Halcyon perks up. “Ooh!”

He hops off his dragon-friendly workbench and is quietly settled by Ríoga’s side, his wide, luminous eyes fixed on the necklace slowly rotating around itself where Ríoga holds it up.

Ríoga lets out a slow breath as she lowers the necklace back onto the table. It lies motionless, of course, but she still regards it with trepidation, as though it could jump up in her face at any moment. Remembering the historical enchanting mishaps she’s read about, that’s… actually not impossible.

She resists the urge to close her eyes, knowing doing so has no effect at all and might even just make it harder for her to focus her magic on the right target. After all, the necklace currently holds no magic at all, and thus, there’s nothing for her magic to connect with. Assuming she can even wake her magic, that is.

It takes longer than she expected. Just like her teachers instructed her years ago, she enters a kind of meditative state, emptying her mind of everything but the task at hand. Unlike before, however, there is a physical object in front of her - she’s never actually tried directing her will at something, before.

She’s beginning to doubt anything is happening, when suddenly there’s a kind of snap! in the air; like someone cracking a whip. She jumps but, thanks to her lessons, doesn’t move any more than that, for fear of messing up the connection. As the strange sensation fades, it leaves behind something else. It’s hard to describe, but if she had to, she’d call it… shimmering. Like glitter in water, swirling around. It doesn’t have a physical presence, she can’t see it - but she can sense it, all the same.

At her side, with his nose almost right up against the necklace, Halcyon lets out an awed “Oooooh!”

Ríoga silently agrees. On the worktable, the necklace now sports a thin, ethereal sheen. Like sunlight through water, it shifts in hues of red and purple.

“You did it!”

“I…” She turns to Halcyon, gaping. “I did it!”

He wrestles her off her seat and rustles her fur, laughing. With a well-placed kick, she pushes him off.

“Now you do yours!”

“Okay, okay!” He eagerly jumps back to his own workstation, where the dormant runestone waits. The rune carved into the stone is a simple one, meant for a beginner at the craft. When activated, it’ll produce a low, pleasant heat. Ríoga remembers seeing tens, if not hundreds, of human enchanters starting their careers producing stones like this.

Halcyon settles in and holds his paws over the stone with a look of deep concentration. From the corner of her eye, Ríoga spots the young Ravager from before peeking through the doorway, his pale eyes wide and curious. Silently, she waves him in.

After a moment’s hesitation, he steps inside. The basket of herbs is still strapped to his back, but is significantly less full, now.

Halcyon pays no mind to the audience. All his attention is fixed firmly on the stone. He narrows his eyes, and the stone begins to tremble. A faint, yellow glow comes to life in the grooves carved into its surface.

The stone trembles harder, clacking against the wood of the worktable. Halcyon’s paw, hovering over the stone, strains against some unseen force. Ríoga recognises the look on his face as someone communing with something in their mind - a fragment of the Aether, which all dragons possess.

And then: the runestone gives a final, stronger jerk before falling still. A shimmer like the one on Ríoga’s necklace washes over the stone just once, before converging into the carved rune, which now glows brightly.

“Haha!” Halcyon exclaims, and reaches for the rune. “That was actually easier than—OW!”

He rips his paw back, sending the stone flying through the air. It hits the wall, then the floor, and rolls away into some unseen corner.

“Are you okay?” Ríoga rushes over to grab his wrist and turn his paw over. She winces; his whole palm is burned, his usual vivid purple skin taking on a raw, red hue. In some places, the skin is even cracked entirely, already welling up with blood.

“Oh no,” the grey Ravager mourns, craning his neck to see better. “That’s a nasty burn.”

“Yeah,” Halcyon says, strained. His face is tightly pinched, like he’s trying very hard not to cry.

There’s a rustle of leaves as the Ravager slips off the basket and sets it down in front of himself. He roots through it with a single-minded focus until he finds what he’s looking for: a single plant that, to Ríoga, is indistinguishable from the others. He looks relieved, though.

“Do you have a bowl, somewhere?” he asks.

Halcyon has leaned into Ríoga so far that his head is entirely buried in the fur of her neck, his strange, ring-like horn digging into her clavicle. “Over there,” she replies as she shifts uncomfortably. “Hey, what’s your name?”

“Chronos!” the little Ravager calls out distractedly, already pulling out the large wooden bowl kept in one of the lower cabinets. “I’m a healer! Or, well,” he falters a little, his pale eyes darting off to the side, “I will be. Soon. But I can help!”

“Please help,” Halcyon grits out, muffled by Ríoga’s fur. “It hurts.”

In no time at all, Chronos has turned the herb into a kind of dry-ish paste. Where he got the tools to grind it up, Ríoga has no idea, but she’ll take it. Or rather, Halcyon will. If his increasing unrest is anything to go by, he’d accept any remedy offered to him, right now.

With a firm grip on Halcyon’s wrist, she holds out his paw for Chronos to see. His expression is deeply sympathetic as he carefully smears the paste on Halcyon’s skin, unruffled by Halcyon’s twitching and muffled whimpers.

Ríoga blinks, then narrows her eyes. The paste is… glowing. Plants aren’t supposed to do that, at least not the ones found here. Then why..?

As if sensing the strangeness too, Halcyon looks up and tilts his head. “Uh…”

“Shhhh,” Chronos shushes him, apparently unaware of what he’s doing to the herbal paste.

Whispering, Ríoga asks, “Is he using magic?”

“I think so?” Halcyon whispers back. “It already doesn’t hurt anymore. Herbs don’t usually work that fast, do they?”

Mutely, Ríoga shakes her head.

As they watch, the paste dries up and eventually crumbles into dust, blown away by Chronos’ breath as he sits with closed eyes. When there’s nothing left, he blinks sluggishly, frowning.

“Woah…”

Halcyon and Ríoga both stare at him, Halcyon with his paw still held in the air, forgotten. “What… did you do?” he asks.

Chronos looks confused, his brows furrowed. “I’m not sure. It just felt right, you know? My mother always says to help people in any way I can, and… something told me I could do this. It’s the first time that’s happened, though.” His frown intensifies, though a hint of excitement flickers in his eyes.

“Huh.”

Ríoga belatedly lets go of Halcyon’s wrist. “Well. Thank you. It seems you might become a proper healer sooner rather than later.”

Chronos shoots them a bright grin. “I hope so!”

They help him get the basket back onto his shoulders, and watch him leave with matching expressions of dumbfoundedness.

“It’s not that unusual to meet someone with healing magic,” Halcyon tries to reason, but there’s not enough conviction behind the words to make it sound like he himself even believes it.

“No, but…” Ríoga scratches her cheek. “He didn’t even know.”

“I guess he does, now,” is all the answer Halcyon has, and Rioga can only shrug in agreement.

“I wonder what he’ll do with it.”