The Runic Alchemist

"I… Wha—" Damian was at a loss for words. He knew Sam often hid his emotions, but the fact that he did it so completely—so effectively—that Damian couldn't even sense a hint of what he was feeling, was unsettling. Guess he didn't know the boy as well as he thought he did.
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Sam, however, quickly shifted from his serious expression to his usual bright smile. He gave Damian a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Forget it. Let's just focus on this. Maybe I'm overthinking it. I'll be outside—do your thing. I need to prepare too."

Damian nodded numbly, still processing it all. Sam walked out, and Reize returned shortly after. She asked him what had happened, but Damian simply shook his head, returning to his work. His mind, however, was racing.

Had he overdone it? He was so detached from the common worldview of this world that he'd never stopped to consider how others might perceive his actions. Helping Lucian was the right thing to do… wasn't it? But what about aiding Dawnstar, or involving himself with the Highswords? Should he have stayed out of it?

No. He was part of this world. Watching it crumble while he stood by would haunt him, no matter how far he ran or hid. He had power—and if he didn't use it to improve things, what difference was there between him and the Highswords or those nobles sitting pretty in their palaces?

"Max, are you okay?" Reize's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Huh? What?"

She stepped closer and placed her warm hand on his colder face, her eyes filled with concern. "Are you alright? Is something wrong?"

"No... Sorry, just lost in thought," Damian sighed. "I made an offer to the Highswords—proposed doing something in exchange for them halting the war. I was just wondering if that was the right thing to do."

"The war... and the Empire..." she whispered, her voice tinged with worry. Her eyes, though, took on a distant, almost unsettling look, one he hadn't seen before. It lasted only a moment before her usual cheerful smile returned.

"You're the one who gave us wings that can soar through the sky, higher than any bird. There's nothing you can't do. If you believe it's necessary, you should do it. We are runesmiths. First, we make it work; then we worry about the flaws within. And work on those till everything is perfect!"

Damian smiled, leaned in, and kissed her, all his worries melting away. He had thought enough—now was the time for action. She was right, fuck what comes after; the situation now had to be set right.

****

Half an hour later, everyone gathered by the airship. Damian had wheeled it out of the workshop, and they were ready to board. But before that Sam suddenly spoke up.

"You know, my uncle always said a ship needs a name! It's bad luck to have one without."

The group was tense, but hearing Sam's comment, they all furrowed their brows. It was a silly suggestion, yet sometimes the silliest things mattered. Everyone turned to Damian, silently asking for his input on the name.

"How about… Airship?" Damian offered, giving it no more than two seconds of thought.

"It's already a ship," Einar retorted, squinting at him. "It needs a name."

Evrin had somehow convinced Einar to join them on the journey to Dawnstar—something about not missing the chance to fly and witness the situation firsthand.

Grace crossed her arms, her expression softening as she said, "What about something hopeful? Since this is its first flight to save lives? 'Grace of Aurion' has a nice ring to it."

"How selfish! It's got your name in it!" Sam teased, earning a playful punch from Grace in return. Laughter followed, easing the tension.

"You built it to fulfill her dream of flying, right?" Lucian remarked, glancing toward Reize. "What about 'Dreamlight'?"

The group nodded in agreement, and when Reize smiled, Damian concluded, "Dreamlight it is." He made a mental note to paint the name on the ship's prow later with a makeshift dye.

Damian sensed the presence of several third rankers moving around the Bastion and along the outer walls of the academy. It seemed like Runfather and the others were busy doing the thing. He stepped up the newly installed foldable mechanical steps at the back of the ship's seating compartment. Everyone followed behind him.

The generator had already filled one-quarter of the mana liquid storage, which had a total capacity of 50 liters. Damian had installed two tanks just in case and brought many extra five-liter containers from previous modifications on the ship.

The takeoff was smooth and quiet. Once the ship reached a sufficient altitude, Damian engaged the propellers and wind runes, and they drifted away from the academy and the island.

Damian sighed, a thought lingering in his mind that he didn't share with Reize.

"What?" Evrin asked, sensing his shift in mood.

Damian hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "I built this ship to show that magic can be something beautiful—there's so much more we can do with it than just crafting spells to destroy each other. And yet, this is my second major creation, and it's about to be revealed to the world in the midst of someone else's war."

A sense of conflicted emotions spread across the group, particularly in Evrin and Lucian, who exchanged concerned glances upon seeing Damian's somber expression. He shook it off quickly and smiled. "But whatever… Let's focus on what we can do for today. Everyone remembers the plan, right? Any questions?"

No one spoke, so Damian turned his attention back to flying, focusing on landing the ship in the empty Ashenvale land, far from the prying eyes of the Highsword third rankers.

The plan was simple: enter the waygate portal, land near the baron, and gather everyone from Dawnstar. Half the group would stay behind to fight if the Empire's forces appeared, while the others helped the people onto the ship. Then Damian would activate the wormhole spell in the opposite direction, flying them back to Lord Ashborne's forces.

Easy, right?