Written in Script

Morning light bathed the workshop floor in dusty gold, framing every bench and stack of metal with soft illumination. Donte exhaled slowly, letting the faint hush of the forge fill him. He'd come early—earlier than usual, even—and taken a moment to center himself amid the half-finished weapons, tools, and swirling motes of ash that drifted in stray beams of sunlight. Today felt important: his first real lesson in Thalics.

He'd skimmed a few pages of the battered tome last night, gleaning that Thalics was more verbose than the ancient symbols he toyed with in private. Each effect was described by lines of script that needed careful synergy. But reading and actually practicing with Markus were two different things.

Right on cue, the back door rattled open. Markus stepped in, mechanical arm gleaming softly, a small sack of forging scraps over one shoulder. His gaze landed on Donte, and he quirked an eyebrow. "Beating me to the punch, huh?"

Donte managed a half-smile. "I figured we'd start early."

Markus tossed the scraps onto a side table. "Fair enough. Soon as we do our usual forging chores, we'll get into the Thalics stuff. Ready for it?"

Donte nodded, heart thumping. "Yeah."

They began with a short forging routine. Markus instructed Donte to hammer out a small iron bracket needed for a neighbor's repair. Each clang of the hammer felt smooth, guided by the Flow cycle—inhale, raise, exhale, strike. Once, Donte would have been panting in minutes; now, he lasted through the entire process without gasping.

After about an hour, Markus signaled him to stop. "That's enough. We'll refine that later. Time for the main event."

Donte set his hammer aside, wiping sweat from his brow. "Sure." He followed Markus to a cleared side table near the front windows, where a well-worn Thalics tome waited. Next to it lay small vials of Church-approved ink—dark liquid flecked with faint glimmers.

Markus laid a hand on the tome's cover, tracing its swirling lines. "This is what crafters across Zymeris use if they want to stay legit with the Church. Good old Thalics, the universal script for enchantments." He flipped it open, revealing page after page of line-by-line instructions. "Think of it like structured paragraphs describing what you want from the item—durability, sharper edges, weight reduction. But synergy's key. You can't just scribble them down."

Donte leaned forward, scanning the first few pages. Each set of lines formed a short phrase—root verb, modifier, and target. "Looks more complicated than I expected. So standard-tier gear only gets a few lines?"

"Exactly. Usually one or two lines for a basic item. If you start adding more, you push into the next tier. But that also demands special resources." Markus paused, noticing Donte's puzzled look. "We'll talk about that soon. Let's just say you can't stack too many lines on plain steel and expect it to hold. You need synergy boosters from rarer materials."

Donte nodded, storing the question away for later. He had no idea what "rarer materials" meant in this world. Still, one step at a time.

Markus turned a page to reveal side-by-side diagrams for Standard vs. Refined lines. Each block of script was more extensive than Donte had anticipated. "See, standard-tier might have one or two lines—like 'Sharpen' and 'Minor Durability.' Refined gear has three or four. Beyond that, you go into Advanced, Master, Legendary—each step more complicated, each needing stronger synergy."

He tapped a schematic that displayed a partial sword. "For standard-tier, the Church charges minimal fees. It's straightforward. But each tier up demands not only more lines but better forging components. A normal ingot might not hold four or five lines without meltdown."

Donte nodded, enthralled. "So Thalics can do almost anything if you have the materials to support it?"

"Within reason. Each line has to align with synergy, or the script fails. Also, the Church sets the rules. But yeah, you can do a lot, from basic fire resistance to advanced illusions—if you've got the right stuff and skill." Markus closed the page. "Let's keep it simple. We start with standard lines."

Markus moved the tome aside, picking up a small metal strip. "We'll treat this as a blade or bracket, applying one line. 'Minor Durability' is a classic. Watch."

He unstoppered a bottle of shimmering ink. "This is official Church-approved stuff. Enough catalyst to anchor a single line. Follow closely." Dipping a stylus in the ink, he hovered over the metal strip, inhaled, then began writing. The strokes formed a gentle curve that looped into a final mark. A faint glow traced the path, resonating as he exhaled.

Stepping back, Markus gestured at the glowing text. "That's it—short and sweet. A single line. You maintain synergy by keeping your breath steady. Like forging, but on a smaller scale."

Donte inspected the script, noticing how it resembled a phrase more than a glyph. "So the synergy is basically me channeling energy into the line?"

"Exactly. The item responds if it's stable. You try now." Markus slid over a second strip, along with a fresh stylus and ink.

Donte swallowed, adopting the Flow cycle in his mind. Slowly, he traced the same shapes on the metal. About halfway through, his breath hitched, causing the pen stroke to jerk. He managed to finish, but the final symbol wobbled. The line glowed faintly, flickering at the edges.

He set the stylus down, and the glow rapidly faded. "Oh—guess I messed up."

Markus nodded. "Your synergy faltered. You need to match each stroke with a controlled inhale or exhale. Try again—shift each pen movement so it's in rhythm with your breath."

Donte tried a second time, focusing intently. Inhale, draw the curve; exhale, finish the line. The synergy pulsed, leaving a faint but more stable glow. He could feel a mild drain, but nowhere near forging-level exhaustion.

"Not bad," Markus said, examining it. "That's about standard-tier quality. The line might hold mild durability if it were on a real blade. The Church would sign off on that."

Donte felt a small surge of pride. An official line, recognized enchantment. He recalled how advanced lines demanded special materials. He would get there eventually.

Markus flipped to a diagram of a Refined-tier sword. "Once you add a second or third line—like Sharpen, Weight Reduction, or Heat Tolerance—you inch into Refined territory. But for that, you can't rely on normal steel alone. You need synergy boosters, typically found in… well, let's call them weird creatures."

Donte frowned. "What do you mean 'weird creatures?' I've seen some references to bigger beasts, but nothing about forging with them."

Markus set his stylus down. "They're called Arhosts in some circles—monsters that roam outside city boundaries, leftover from the old wars or whatever. When you kill them, some drop fragments or small cores that carry a residual energy. Smiths use those to stabilize Thalics lines beyond the standard tier."

Donte's eyes widened. "So… that's real? Monsters that drop forging materials?"

A short grunt. "Real as it gets, kid. If you want to push forging to Refined or Advanced, you need those. The Church lumps them under higher-tier forging, with heavier fees. That's where the Core Hunt Authority might come in."

Donte recalled hearing Markus mention the CHA before. "Right, the group that hunts these monsters for materials?"

"Exactly. They do it legally, returning the best stuff to Church-run markets or forging guilds. For now, you're nowhere near needing them. But it's good to know where advanced forging truly comes from." Markus eyed Donte. "Don't get any ideas of chasing them alone."

Donte suppressed a grin. "I won't. Standard-tier is enough for me right now."

Donte eyed the table's supplies. "Can I try adding a second line on one strip, just to see if I can handle it?"

Markus shrugged. "Why not? But the synergy in this ink is minimal. Don't expect success."

Still, Donte wanted to push his luck. He readied a fresh strip, writing a first line—"Minor Durability"—fairly clean. Then he inhaled, tried adding a short line for "Mild Edge." The second line drained him fast. He completed half the arcs before synergy wobbled and the line fizzled. He set the stylus down with a breathy sigh.

Markus chuckled. "That's what I mean. Without better synergy—like some Arhost fragment or special alloy—the second line collapses. But it's a good exercise."

Donte nodded, chest easing. He pictured forging items that used multiple lines, bridging him closer to Refined-tier. He'd need monster resources—Arhosts—and a bigger synergy reservoir. Someday…

They spent another half hour on single-line scripts. Donte wrote "Minor Durability" or "Gentle Resist" across multiple scraps, each attempt demanding breath alignment. Some lines glowed fully; others flickered out. With each success or failure, he learned more about synergy's delicate nature.

Eventually, Markus waved him off. "That's enough. Don't want you mentally fried."

Donte set aside the stylus, arms sagging. "It's interesting how tiring it is, but I'm not wrecked."

Markus nodded. "Your forging Flow helps, but it's not a perfect match. You'll adapt better over time."

The mention of synergy alignment made Donte wonder how his class's runic angles might merge with Thalics eventually. If he refined his breathing to handle advanced forging, he could see layering runic lines behind Thalics script. He kept the idea secret, though—no need to alarm Markus.

Markus closed the tome, setting it aside. "Tomorrow, we'll try scribing a single line onto an actual blade or bracket, see if the synergy holds. Then, if you keep at it, maybe we'll talk about two lines. But that's beyond standard-tier, meaning you'd better find a synergy booster from an Arhost or specialized ore if you want it to last."

Donte raised his brows. "So for a better item, I'd go hunt these Arhosts or join a group that does? Seems… intense."

A short nod. "Yeah. The Core Hunt Authority is the safest path—teams, official Church oversight, all that. But you're not ready." Markus paused, scanning Donte's expression. "For now, standard forging suits you. Once you're stable, maybe you chase advanced forging. One step at a time."

Donte swallowed, imagination sparked by the notion of hunts for monstrous remains that help forging synergy. It sounded dangerous but intriguing. "I'll stay focused," he murmured.

As they tidied the workspace, Donte let his mind drift. He had physically forged for an hour, hammered metal with minimal exhaustion, then tried recognized Thalics lines. Another day of progress. Sure, the second line fizzled out, but he got a glimpse of how synergy scaling worked.

One day, maybe he'd gather those Arhost scraps, push into Refined or Advanced. The concept of monstrous hunts wasn't exactly comforting, but if that was the route to forging better gear, so be it. Meanwhile, his own class's ancient script waited in the wings, waiting to fuse with official lines once he discovered the right synergy technique.

Markus locked the Thalics tome in a small chest by the side wall. "That's all for now. We'll pick up tomorrow. Don't fry yourself trying to do two lines tonight without the right catalysts."

Donte exhaled, nodding. "Got it."

A faint smile ghosted across Markus's lips. "You're picking this up fast. But trust me, it gets complicated quick—especially if you add unknown scripts."

Donte mustered a casual nod, ignoring the flutter in his chest. "I'll be careful."

Gathering his tools, he parted ways with Markus at the door. The sun outside had descended into a warm haze, painting the sky in pink and orange. Donte lingered, letting the hush soothe him. Another forging day completed, another step in bridging official enchantment with his hidden class. He felt tired but satisfied—a sign that he was forging a real future in the open while harboring deeper plans.

He turned down the street, heading home, the battered workshop behind him. Tomorrow, he'd push further—scribe a line onto a real blade, test synergy alignment in a more tangible scenario. He recalled how the second line fizzled without synergy boosters or advanced knowledge. Someday, I'll gather those Arhost materials, he vowed. Then I can push beyond standard-tier forging.

Either way, he walked on, footsteps echoing on the cobblestones in the fading sunlight. The future beckoned, forging a path of potential both sanctioned—and dangerously unknown.