Ronrik chuckles as he hears Cyran, “Yes this is yours now kiddo, you’re officially my student now. I give each of my students a sword from my collection when they finish their training, you're no exception. The inscriptions on it are from both me and Zala. I inscribed the weeping one while she inscribed the burning one. That probably comes as no surprise, you earned this weapon and you’ve earned my respect. Don’t worry about it after all what type of teacher I would be if I didn’t give you something to use my training on huh? Consider it a gift from me and Zala to you all we ask in return is you make good use of our teachings. For if I find that you are actively doing evil and betraying the principles of justice and kindness I pride myself on”, he takes off his bifocals revealing his blind eyes, “This old bag of bones will have no choice but to bring you down myself”, he then chuckles softly as he pushes his bifocals back on.



Zala quickly exclaimed, “Hey you two twerps me and Ronrikkie will be at the shop to meet us there when you're done shopping. We gotta celebrate properly and officiate the end of your training. Also, talk about some important business that needs to be taken care of”, the two then leave walking ahead.



Javal waves them off and quickly whips his head toward his friend and stops in his tracks, “What is up Cyran?”, he then jogs back towards the man and notices the most precious and adorable thing in front of him, "WHOA!".

The merchant, a dwarf woman, smiles and presents her two most expensive creatures to the two, “Here we have a pair of Book Wyrms right here super rare and I promise you that these are incredibly rare and valuable babies in front of ya. So what do you two say huh? I’m offering them at a reasonable rate of one hundred and fifty solars each”.

Cyran was unsure what to say to Ronrik’s assertion, too overwhelmed by the kind words, and perhaps a bit confused at the prospect of being called kiddo for once; he could only nod and bow his head once more, a sign of respect. The last part of Ronrik’s vow… unnerved him, though Cyran did his best not to let it show on his face. He was not exactly the noble sort. Ronrik was a heromaker. Cyran was an assassin. A fact Ronrik had seemed to pick up on during his spar with Javal a few days ago, yet hadn’t broached despite Cyran’s worst fears. If the master was adamant about Cyran having it, then it would feel wrong to deny him as much. “The enchantments are incredibly intricate, and the blade is of fine make.”

Having a blacksmith for a fiancé had its perks. Though the finer points were lost on Cyran, he often liked watching her work in the few moments she was able to steal away to the forge; and it definitely made him better at identifying high quality weapons. This particular sword felt far too lovely for someone like him, and Cyran was not as experienced with swords as he was knives. But the gift was a thoughtful memento. And Cyran had never known what it was to be a student before.

“Thank you.”

Husband and wife parted ways with the others while Cyran and Javal meandered about - the assassin paid a moment of worry for what official business they might have for the two, but he would deal with that when the time came. He turned his attention back to the curious creatures being sold by the vendor, which were slithering around in their containment. Book wyrms… they were a little bit expensive, but Javal seemed utterly entranced by them, and - well, it was silly, but perhaps Cyran wanted Javal to have his own memento of the time together too. It had been hard; but not all bad.

“You want one, Javal? They’re rather sweet.”

It took a few minutes to haggle with the dwarven woman, but Cyran managed to get a deal on two of the little fellows. One for him, one for Javal. After a little bit of back and forth on the way back to the shop with their new pets, they decided on the names Ivae and Nevae - Light and Dark, though Javal suggested, for the irony, switching the names so Ivae belonged to Cyran, and Nevae belonged to Javal. Ivae was a sweet little thing, and Cyran took to feeding it little bits of paper from his journal while he and Javal returned to Master Ronrik, both making small talk and laughing and enjoying the late afternoon.

An almost idyllic ending to their week of training.

Or, at least, it would have been - if not for Master Ronrik’s news.

Javal held his hands in the air, “No Cyran you don’t have to whatsoever”, he embarrassingly said. He used to be the one giving to his friends and family and for whatever reason strayed away from getting gifts. He didn’t like when people made a fuss about him feeling he was just any other person.



Javal protested but it was no use because he couldn’t tell a lie and although he didn’t want Cyran to feel like he owed the fellblood he wanted one of the bookwyrms. He stood as proud as he could be as he held his new pet, Nevae. The creature was mischievous and playing with the man’s fingers biting them as he walked.



“Thank you ever so much Cyran I am so grateful for your kindness I shall repay you at another time my friend I promise in my honor”.



Soon enough the two arrived towards Ronrika and he led the two towards his shop. They entered hearing Zala already back to work the sounds of sizzling and stuff popping above them. A notebook was at the counter with a sigil of a pair of fangs on its cover.



Ronrik chuckles and jumps onto the counter, “Oh right Raoul mentioned he was going to drop off his findings and research. Something about finding the next calamity or whatever it is”, he then hands the notebook to Cyran.



He takes a deep sigh before looking up to his students, “Javal you in all honesty are my greatest pupils, you are the one to whom I entrust my skills and swordsmanship. When I’m dead and gone I’ll be content with knowing that I chose right with giving you all my experience and training. I’ve made mistakes before in choosing who I thought deserved my lessons and that’s why I wanted to ask a request of you. I’ve failed. I was no good teacher who let my students grow arrogant and evil using my swordsmanship and abilities for their selfish desires. Although not all of them turned out this way, still those who did have become monsters in their own right. I want you to check each of my twelve students and see what they're up to. If they are up to no good then I ask that you cut them down and take the blades that I’ve given them. I know it’s a lot to ask but please humor this old man just this once”.

“Don’t worry about it.” Cyran waved his hand in a dismissive gesture at Javal’s worry. “Don’t think of it as a gift you have to repay. Think of it as a memory for a successful training trip and a fun time together.” Despite its hiccups, they’d had a good time overall - and Cyran was grateful to have the opportunity to spend time with a friend. Javal still seemed slightly sheepish, and even after Cyran procured the boom wyrms for the both of them, he insisted on paying Cyran back.

Cyran merely laughed, reaching over to ruffle Javal’s hair. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not transactional between us. Plus, your family has been letting me stay with you free of charge… so if you really need to think of paying me back, consider that it, okay?”

An idyllic end to a trip that started out rocky… or so it seemed. Cyran shouldn’t have counted his blessings too soon. By the time they arrived back at Ronrick’s shop, they had news waiting for them. He heard the ominous noise of something brewing in Zalara’s workshop - his first instinct was to ask what she was working on when Ronrick handed him something small. A notebook bearing a familiar sigil. At the mention of a calamity, his blood ran cold.

He immediately opened the book and flipped through it, keeping half an ear on the conversation between master and student. Rounding up his old blades, huh? Sounded like a noble quest… but he was still more concerned about the sighting of the next calamity. He scanned Raoul’s notes while they finished up, curious to see where they would be heading next - and what they would be combatting.

Among Raoul’s notes, Cyran would find mention of the next calamity, it took a lot of work and research into some deeply hidden tomes but the dhampir managed to find some breadcrumbs. The next calamity that he found was some sort of bull monster that had claimed Zeinav Dessert as its territory. There were rumors that it was hidden in its chambers, a large temple hidden among the sand. Many treasure hunters and grave robbers have called it a personal dream filled with treasure and riches. Its domain is the earth; it's been seen capable of causing earthquakes and landslides.



A small folded piece of paper appears at the end of the notebook tucked in between the cover and the last page, “Hey Cyrus I know you’re probably the one reading this. This is all I can manage to dig up about our bull-headed friend. I’ve been hearing rumblings around as well, you two aren’t the only ones looking into this case you’ll have to compete against other greedy hunters. I trust you and my brother to get this thing done though. Try not to go and kill so many people Mr. Assassin Specter Guy. Otherwise, I will stop providing information to you on principle. See ya old man-Raoul O. Ardelean”.



Javal bows to his teacher, “Yes, Master Emeraldcutter you have my word I shall check up on my fellow students. If they are not bringing honor and respect to your name I promise to cut them down. Thank you so much for helping me and my friend get stronger. I can feel it in my heart I am ready for whatever manner of challenges the world throws at me”.



After exchanging some more pleasantries it grows dark and time to say goodbye masters and students bid each other farewell.



Zalara manages to get a quick word with Cyran before he leaves, “Hey kid, remember what I taught alright? Those quick and precise movements focus on your speed and your goal. Make sure to take antidotes for your poisons and potions otherwise, you’ll get stuck with a chicken for a head for weeks like I did”.



Javal pulls his masters and Cyran for a big group hug and bids the two married couple farewell. He then walks with Cyran outside for a bit before waving him goodbye, “Farewell friend Cyran I hope this trip was as productive for you as it was for me. Thank you for humoring my silly request and accompanying me. I appreciate it a lot. It was a pleasure to hang out with you once more even if it was training and getting stronger. I’ll keep in touch and be ready to take on the next calamity. I'll let you know when it’s time”.

Zeinav Desert. That was where the next target was.

It looked like Raoul hadn’t been able to dig up much, either. Yet another underground temple… Cyran brought a hand to his cheek and suppressed a shiver at the memory of the last one. This time would be different. He refused to let himself be trapped again. That tomb had been a sultan’s memorial, an ode to the dead and filled with traps set by those who sought to protect its riches. Since then he’d honed his skills to a fine point; anything they encountered in a search for the Bull, they’d either survive, or they wouldn’t.

It was as simple as that.

He huffed out a small laugh reading Raoul’s final parting message for him. The intentional misspelling of his names and the potshots to his profession… he paid no mind to the casual insults, far more interested in the bit of lore contained within. Other hunters, huh? Maybe there was treasure in that temple, after all. It complicated things, but it wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle. They just had to be fast.

He folded up the note and slipped it into his pocket, and relayed the information to Javal. This break had been much needed, but there was still work to do. Though the conversation… lightened, somewhat, after business was done, Cyran remained thoughtful, mulling over what he’d learned. If the calamity of lightning was any indication they’d have a hell of a battle on their hands. He’d need to prepare.

The training was a start.

Eventually it came time for him to leave Thorock; he traveled best under the protection of the night, and Del and the kids were at home. As he bowed to the others, Zalara pulled him aside, relaying one last piece of advice to him. “Chicken head?” He murmured, not quite sure what she was talking about, but… appreciative nonetheless. “I’ll make sure to start keeping antivenom on me, just in case.”

The week’s events, at the very least, had left him with a lot to think about. He remained silent while he walked with Javal, until it was time for the younger man to make his way back to his family’s inn. Cyran pulled him in for a tight hug, patting him on the back. “Thank you for inviting me. It was a wonderful learning experience… and under considerably nicer circumstances than the last time.”

His expression turned melancholic. Their next meeting, likely, would be much more harrowing.

Nevertheless, he kept his composure; offered Javal a small, sad smile and patted his shoulder one last time.

“That will come later. For now, get some rest. There are darker days ahead.”

He bid Javal goodbye with one final nod and pulled the hood of his cloak up to obscure his features, taking to the shadows once more.