At the edge of the Corrupted Forest, a forgotten cave served as their makeshift sanctuary. Its entrance was cunningly obscured by a tangle of sickly-hued vines. Inside, damp cold reigned; water droplets slid down the rough stone walls, echoing in the hush.
Karrion wasted no time. The dwarf, seemingly tireless, moved his sturdy frame with surprising grace in the narrow space. From his heavy leather pack he produced an array of peculiar tools: a folding bellows, components of a rune-engraved anvil, hammers and tongs of various sizes, and ingots of faintly glowing metal.
With deft hands, he assembled the portable runic anvil. Though small, it was extraordinarily heavy, its surface etched with intricate ancient Dwarven runes. Karrion inspected every joint, murmuring sacred phrases under his breath as his fingers traced each rune until they shone with a faint light.
He then hauled in several flat stones, stacking them into a makeshift forge. His fuel was special charcoal—capable of astonishing heat—and branches from the forest charged with strange energies. When burned, those branches gave off a faint, resinous odor tinged with sulfur.
Raine leaned against a drier patch of rock, watching Karrion's feverish work. The previous battles and the backlash of starfire had left him depleted. Every breath scorched his lungs, and each movement felt weighted by lead. He tried to summon a flicker of star-light in his veins—only to magnify the agony within.
Thalia crouched deeper in the cave's shadows, her face as pale as stone, lips cracked and breathing shallow. She wrapped her cloak tight, battling the chill. Her eyes flicked anxiously between Raine and Karrion, heavy with unspoken worry.
"It's ready," Karrion announced at last, thudding his fist against the assembled forge with a metallic ring. Wiping sweat from his brow, he turned to the runic reliquary perched on a flat rock, safely distant from the flames.
He met their gazes, tone solemn. "Forging the Starflame Blade isn't mere hammer and ironwork." He nodded at the steel box. "'Heart of Starflame,' you've seen its might: half pure celestial fire, half vile corruption. Those two forces clash like caged monsters."
Karrion strode to the anvil, lifting a small runic hammer. "Our Dwarven rune-craft must rein in that fury, channel it into channels. I will coax its energy steady, then inscribe special runes so this blade can truly strike at the Shadow's corruption—perhaps even bind it."
He paused, voice dropping. "But it's no simple task. A single misstep could unleash catastrophic results: either the Heart violently detonates, incinerating us all, or our efforts produce nothing but worthless slag."
Raine absorbed every word, feeling the weight of Karrion's gravity. He glanced at the reliquary, recalling the turbulent power within—a force no ordinary smith could tame.
In the gloom, Thalia's form shivered; she pressed her hand to her chest, feeling her starcore tremble.
Karrion set down the rune hammer and fixed Raine with a piercing gaze. "That isn't even the gravest risk." His voice grew heavier. "This sword is forged to fight corruption, to stand with the Starborn. To awaken its true power, it must resonate with star-light—your star-light, Raine."
The cave fell silent save for dripping water. Raine heard Thalia's catch of breath behind him—her hand tightened on her cloak.
"To bond with your blood, the blade must draw upon your Starborn essence as a catalyst," Karrion continued. "Only then will Starfire and steel truly merge, gifting a weapon fit for a Scion of the Stars—able to channel celestial flame and cut through shadow."
He looked intently at Raine's pale face. "But the cost… colossal. The forging process will draw starfire from your veins, fusion with the Heart's own power. You are already weakened; forcing out more star-light risks a devastating backlash."
He lowered his voice further. "You may lose your gift of star-magic forever… or worse."
Absolute stillness. Raine's heart pounded; he glimpsed fresh scrapes on his wrist, the mark of earlier battles.
Memories rose: the auction house's searing starfire, the instant calm when Thalia's blood touched corruption, the echoing voices of Starborn lost in the ruins. His blood did hold something uniquely potent.
"I understand the risk," Raine said, voice hoarse but unwavering.
Karrion studied him. Then, at last, he nodded. "Very well. If you are resolved—"
He turned back to the forge with renewed purpose. Raine steadied Thalia at his side, her tremors betraying her dread.
Karrion began to stoke the fire, the bellows hissing. The forge's embers flared as charcoal and enchanted branches sparked a fierce blaze, licking at the rune-etched anvil. The cave glowed with flickering orange and dark shadows, a fitting stage for a perilous rite.
As the anvil's runes glimmered and the bellows sang, a sacred—and dangerous—song rose in the forge's heat. The time for hammers and runes had come. Yet with every strike and every rune, the price would be paid in blood—and the fate of three souls hung in the balance.