CHAPTER – 146

  Narrator: Dav’s absence from the cafeteria was felt more than expected.

  The usual chatter that accompanied the academy’s meals seemed muted, as if someone had turned down the volume of the world.

  The professors sat composed, some with their forks in hand, others with their gaze lost in the now-cold dishes.

  Even the director, usually quick to liven up conversation with cultured remarks or wise reflections, remained silent, his eyes fixed on the immaculate tablecloth.

  It was clear to everyone: without Dav, something was missing.

  That boy, with his quiet yet intense presence, had unknowingly tied all those different people together, an invisible thread now seemingly broken.

  The atmosphere resembled that of the academy’s early days, when the newly appointed professors dined alone, closed off in their rooms, wary and isolated.

  Now, months later, that feeling returned.

  Lunch ended in silence, with empty plates and wandering gazes.

  Meanwhile, Dav was staring at the sword resting on the anvil.

  The metal, fused with fixed steel and now cold, was ready for the next step.

  He approached the forge and infused it with his black flame.

  The spark came to life with a low and deep sound, almost a dark breath, and the flames began to dance within the little hut.

  The environment turned dark red and black, casting shadows that moved like spirits.

  It felt like being in the lair of a mad witch, a creature giggling among twisted walls, satisfied with her spell.

  The sword began to heat up, and soon the first signs appeared: the color changed from cold gray to burning red, then to black.

  Dav took the hammer, now familiar in his hands, and began to strike the blade with a steady, determined rhythm.

  Each blow rang out loud, echoing against the walls and filling the space.

  Sweat ran down his forehead, blurring his vision, and slid off his nose and lashes, mixing with dust and heat.

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  His chest rose and fell heavily, but he didn’t stop.

  For two full hours, he worked without pause, strike after strike, carefully watching every part of the blade to understand where to act.

  It was a grueling process, but he didn’t let exhaustion take over.

  Once that phase was complete, he dipped the blade into a large bucket filled with cold water.

  Steam rose like a hissing white cloud.

  While waiting for the metal to cool, Dav took the time to clean the forge, arrange his tools, and select those he would need for the next phase.

  Thirty minutes passed in a silence broken only by the crackling of the fire.

  When the blade was ready, he pulled it from the water.

  Gently, he ran his hand along the surface to check the thickness.

  Then he picked up the electric grinder and began working on the edges, making them smooth and sharp with utmost precision.

  Each movement was a dance of sparks and concentration.

  He also decided to decorate the blade: he infused a small amount of heat into the tip of his finger, specifically the nail and slowly, carefully slid it down the center of the

  blade, drawing a thin zigzag line, like a snake ready to strike.

  A symbolic decoration, a personal mark.

  After letting the sword cool once more, he began polishing it.

  Once, twice, three times until the surface became like a mirror.

  When he saw his reflection in it, he paused.

  The weapon was still incomplete, but that moment of reflection was enough to make him realize just how much of his soul he had already poured into that blade.

  He left it to rest near the forge and turned to the handle.

  He chose one of the finest woods he had brought and, with patience, began to carve it.

  I won’t tell you how much wood was wasted, nor how many times he had to start over.

  But in the end, when the sky outside had already turned deep blue, Dav found the perfect shape the one that fit the blade as if they had been born together.

  Meanwhile, at dinner time

  Iris leaned against the counter, her gaze lost among the tables.

  She had prepared Dav’s usual plate, a gesture that had become a habit.

  But he wasn’t there.

  No one was sitting in his usual spot.

  She looked once more, scanning every face, but nothing.

  Even Valeria and Selene, seated nearby, had their eyes cast downward.

  Their cutlery toyed nervously between their fingers, as if seeking distraction.

  A bitter silence bound them together, made of waiting and worry.

  Kael, sitting across from Eldrin, tried instead to lighten the mood.

  Kael: (Curious) How was your day with Dav? Did you two manage to do anything together?

  Eldrin: (drinking slowly) That boy is putting his heart into it, Kael.

  Truly.

  When he asked me for help with some materials, I was surprised… but also honored.

  It’s rare to see someone like him with that talent and that reputation choose not to take shortcuts.

  He gets his hands dirty, works for what he wants, expects nothing in return.

  I wanted to help him without hesitation.

  Valeria: (Thinking, listening) Like when he fixed the van so we could all go out...

  Kael: (surprised) Whoa…

  Eldrin: (smiling) And when he completed the first step…

  believe me, the quality of that steel was so high that we went to a blacksmith’s shop to ask for advice, and even the blacksmith himself was impressed.

  He said he hadn’t seen metal like that in years.

  Kael: (looking at Valeria, thoughtful) Maybe he’s just really tired… maybe he fell asleep.

  Valeria: (almost whispering, turning her gaze away) …Stupid Dav.

  Narrator: Kael and Eldrin kept talking about Dav.

  And slowly, around them, the others began to gather.

  Ears perked up, eyes turned toward them, curious.

  “Tell us everything, Kael!”

  It was a female voice that said it, perhaps Selene, perhaps Iris.

  Even Valeria turned, as if driven by an instinct she didn’t want to admit.

  Just that name: Dav.

  And the attention of the entire cafeteria came together again around him even in absence.

  END OF CHAPTER – 146