Chapter 6: Building the Network

The first void crystal felt like a fluke, but I knew better. It wasn't luck—it was practice. I spent the next few weeks locked in our makeshift workshop, the pungent scent of burnt mana and cracked crystals lingering in the air. Each failure brought me closer to understanding the process, to finding its rhythm.

By the third day, I could produce a void crystal every hour. By the end of the week, I had a small stockpile, each one darker and more stable than the last. The energy flowed easier now, the process becoming second nature. But it wasn't enough to just make them—we needed buyers. High-end buyers who wouldn't balk at the price tag.

Lyra handled the networking, diving into the Expanse every night to rub shoulders with the kind of people who could afford rare magic items. She came back with names, contacts, and a growing list of demands.

"They want proof," she said one evening, tossing a holo-pad onto the table. "A demonstration. Something to show we're not just selling smoke and mirrors."

I picked up the pad, scanning the names she'd compiled. Guild masters, alchemists, even a few representatives from the Academy's research division. "We give them a show, and they'll come crawling," I said.

She smirked. "That's the plan. But we need to make it count. One slip-up, and we're done."

The next few days were a blur. I refined the crystals, packing more energy into each one until they hummed with power. Lyra set up the meeting, arranging for us to meet one of the guild masters in a secluded corner of the Expanse.

The man—a tall, broad-shouldered figure with a face scarred by years of battle—studied the void crystal I handed him with a critical eye. He turned it over in his hands, the light bending unnaturally around its surface.

"Impressive," he admitted, though his tone was guarded. "But can you make them in bulk? Consistency is key."

I nodded. "We can produce a steady supply. As long as the price is right."

He leaned back, a calculating look in his eyes. "We'll see. Bring me ten more like this in a week, and we'll talk numbers."

I exchanged a glance with Lyra, her eyes alight with excitement. This was it—the first step toward building something real.

The weeks passed in a blur of work. I lost track of how many crystals I produced, my hands moving almost on their own as I channelled energy into each one. Lyra's network grew, the contacts piling up as word spread about our operation. Every crystal we sold opened new doors, new opportunities.

The workshop was barely big enough for the two of us now. Crystals of every shade lined the shelves, their faint hum filling the air. Fire crystals glowed with a steady warmth, void crystals absorbed the light around them, and a few experimental ice crystals shimmered with a frosty sheen. Lyra was sprawled on the floor, sorting through a stack of orders on her holo-pad, her fingers darting across the screen.

"We're running out of space," I said, eyeing the overflowing shelves. "And time. We've got orders from three guilds, that alchemist from the Academy, and that weird guy who keeps asking for custom lightning crystals."

Lyra didn't look up. "We'll manage. We always do."

"Managing isn't enough. We need to scale up. Get more hands on deck."

She finally glanced at me, her brow raised. "You trust someone else in here? With this?"

"Not the crystals," I said quickly. "But we could hire someone to handle the orders, logistics, maybe even deliveries. Free us up to focus on production."

She considered it, tapping her chin. "Who though? Everyone we know either can't keep their mouth shut or can't tell a fire crystal from a paperweight."

"What about Kael?" I suggested. "He's been asking for a job, and he's decent with numbers."

Lyra snorted. "Kael? The guy who tried to barter for a fire crystal with a box of expired rations?"

"Okay, maybe not Kael. But there's got to be someone."

We spent the next few days vetting potential candidates. It was slow going—most people either didn't understand the scope of what we were doing or were too nosy for their own good. But then Lyra brought up Nira, a former classmate who'd dropped out of the Academy to work in trade. She was sharp, discreet, and had connections in the merchant guilds.

"She's perfect," Lyra said after their first meeting. "Knows her way around contracts, doesn't ask too many questions, and actually knows what to do."

We brought Nira on board, and it made a world of difference. She streamlined the ordering process, negotiated better deals with suppliers, and even set up a secure delivery network. With her handling the business side, Lyra and I could focus on expanding our range.

We started experimenting with hybrid crystals—combining fire and void mana, or ice and lightning. The results were unpredictable, but the buyers loved them. Our network grew, and so did our reputation.

The breakthrough came in the form of a high-end alchemist named Veyra. She'd been one of our first serious buyers, snapping up every void crystal we could produce. We didn't know much about her, but she paid well and never asked too many questions. Until one day, she did.

"These are impressive," Veyra said, holding up one of our latest void crystals. Her voice was smooth, almost too casual. "But I'm curious—how exactly are you producing them? The quality is… unusual."

Lyra shot me a look, her lips pressed into a thin line. We'd prepared for this, but it didn't make it any less nerve-wracking. "Trade secret," I said, keeping my tone light. "We've got a unique process."

Veyra's eyes narrowed, a flicker of interest breaking through her composed exterior. "Unique, indeed. Most void crystals on the market are unstable. Yours aren't. That's not just skill—that's something else."

I didn't respond, letting the silence stretch. She knew we were holding back, but she also knew we were the only ones producing crystals like this. That gave us leverage.

"I'm not here to steal your secrets," she said finally, leaning back in her chair. "But I have access to resources that could… benefit us both. Information, for one. Rare materials. Connections in the Expanse that most people couldn't dream of."

Lyra's eyes lit up, but she kept her voice steady. "And what do you want in return?"

"A steady supply of these," Veyra said, tapping the crystal. "And first refusal on anything new you develop."

The deal was too good to pass up. Veyra started funnelling us information almost immediately classified Academy research, advanced mana theory, even rumours about the Expanse's deeper layers. It was a goldmine, and it gave us an edge we hadn't known we needed.

One night, Lyra burst into the workshop, her face flushed with excitement. "You'll never believe what Veyra just gave me," she said, thrusting a data chip into my hand. "It's a map. Of the Expanse's upper layers."

I plugged it into my holo-tablet, my breath catching as the map unfolded in front of me. Detailed, precise, and labelled with areas I didn't even know existed.