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Soul Forge
In the Boots of Claire

In the Boots of Claire

[Claire]

I woke up, groaning as I rolled off the hard wooden frame I'd come to know as my bed. “Welcome to Nyxian,” I thought with a roll of my eyes. “Where comfort goes to die.” But, I suppose, beggars can’t be choosers. The capital city of Chronara it wasn’t, but it would have to do.

The light from the sunrise started pouring in that weird window, and I felt my mind waking up in tandem, racing with thoughts of the day ahead. Panic bubbled up inside me, and I could feel the prickles of anxiety creeping in. I took a deep breath, remembering the advice my mom had given me when the world became too big, too scary. "Claire," she had said. "Focus on the who, the where, and the when. Makes things a hell of a lot simpler."

“Alright, Claire,” I muttered, closing my eyes and trying to concentrate. "That's me, early twenties, the poster child for bad decisions." Then the where - Nyxian, this no-nonsense, grim town that was now my home. Not much to look at, but it had a certain...character, I suppose. As for the when - it was Harvestide, 726, Age of Rebirth. Harvestide, a fancy term for the end of summer, start of fall. Hey, when almost everyone spends most of their lives trying to get food out of the ground and into stomachs or markets, its about as original as they get ok.

Repeating it to myself, I felt my heart rate slow, the world stop spinning so much. It was the simplicity that helped, reminding me to focus on what was in front of me.

“Alright, Claire,” I said more forcefully this time, forcing a chuckle. “Let’s get started.”

The reality of Nyxian was still sinking in despite spending the past near a month here. Fighting for my life in menial labor with minimal sleep and freedom hadn’t exactly given me the time for deep introspection. This place that I’d heard about in passing whispers on the road was now my everyday. Grey stone, stern faces, and a life more about surviving than living. It wasn’t glamorous, and until now it hadn’t even felt like it was mine.

From there, I ventured into the new day, steeling myself against the unexpected. "Alright, Claire," I muttered under my breath. "You've got this. You've been through worse."

My thoughts meandered back to the tavern I now only *used to* work at, the greedy pig of an owner who couldn't even bother to pay a fair wage, or any wage for that matter. It was a sorry-ass establishment, where the ale tasted like horse piss and the patrons were mostly lowlifes looking for an easy mark or an easier fling. Not that I didn't know how to handle them. I had learned quickly that a sharp tongue was as good as any weapon. But the bastard still owed me for three weeks of labor. If I ever saw him again... well, let’s just say he'd remember me as more than the girl who “stole” the ratty apron she wasted the last of her coin on!

As I looked around the barren room, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. This was far from the life I had been picturing when I was outside of this town’s walls, but I hoped against all doubt it was a chance for a fresh start. No more running, no more scrambling for pennies from piss drunk cretins. For the first time here in Nyxian, maybe I could create a new identity, set my own rules, build something of my own. Or at least, that's what I was hoping. I was still nowhere near in control, thanks to my unique new employer.

Taking one last glance at the room, I exhaled, bracing myself for the day ahead. New job, new life, new Claire, for the second time in as many months. And even though the fear was clawing at the edge of my consciousness, I knew I had to face it head on. After all, bravery wasn't the absence of fear, it was the ability to move forward despite it.

"Nyxian," I whispered to myself, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "You're stuck with me now. So let's see what you've got."

With that, I took one step and then another, heading towards the door and the unknown that lay beyond. The unknown of course being Kyda. The thought of facing them again made my heart pound in my chest. They had an odd mix of qualities that both intrigued and intimidated me.

Kyda was a paradox wrapped in a riddle, as enigmatic as the shifting skies of Nyxian. Their entry into my life was so abrupt it made my head spin. The entire interaction played out like a calculated work of choreography, and thinking back this made my skin crawl with a shiver. The drunks and brutish business owners were one thing, but what if I had jumped out of the pot and into the fire on this one? I would rather get my ass pinched by a thousand drunks than get roped up with a sociopathic master manipulator! I couldn’t even tell the first thing about my new boss… landlord… mentor person?

Their long, ashen hair wasn't braided or tied back as you'd expect of a warrior, but left loose, framing a face that was equal parts stern and delicate. The cheekbones were strong, the jawline soft, the lips thin but expressive. And those eyes, those uncanny, stony grey eyes that looked like the human version of a blank piece of canvas. The facial features, when put together, didn't exactly scream male or female but rather seemed to dance in a gray area. They would be intriguing if they weren’t in such an absolute position of power over me at the moment.

Their voice was equally beguiling - a melodic blend of strength and grace. There was an undeniable femininity to it, but it was layered with a guttural undertone that made it hard to pin down.

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Kyda's clothes were a dead giveaway of their warrior status, practical and weathered, just like them. They wore a tunic of sturdy leather over trousers that were clearly meant for action, not display. And yet, beneath the warrior exterior, there was something else, something subtly feminine. The way the fabric hung on their body hinted at a slender figure, curving in ways that men's bodies typically didn't.

It wasn't as if gender mattered when it came to survival in Eos, but it was human nature to categorize, to label. It helped us make sense of things in our own weird way I guess. But Kyda... they didn't fit any mold I knew. And that made them more fascinating... and terrifying. I honestly couldn’t decide if it mattered, they were so outside the norms of either sex that I couldn’t reliably ascribe any motivations to them based on that alone!

"I guess I’ll have to get used to surprises," I muttered to myself, shaking off my curiosity. I was here for a job, a fresh start, not to decipher the enigma that was Kyda. With one last glance at the surroundings in the dimly lit room, I steeled myself for the day ahead. "Alright, Claire," I thought, "Keep your damn head on straight." I shook off the last fragments of sleep and pushed the door open, stepping into the mad world that was Kyda's workshop. And let me tell you, I was not prepared for the spectacle that awaited me.

The place was lit up, not with the eerily perfect illumination from last night, but with golden sunlight flooding through the weird windows. It filled the room with a kind of warmth that made everything seem a tad more ordinary - or as ordinary as a room filled with magical tech way beyond my ken could be.

Everywhere I looked, there was some piece of equipment or tool, or, hell, what looked like a mechanical beast, all gleaming in the daylight and bristling with a kind of energy that made my hair stand on end. It was like stumbling into an alchemist's dream, filled with the strange and the bizarre, an oddity here in the stark, drab reality of Nyxian.

But I couldn't deny the sheer awesomeness of it all. It was a shock to the senses, but also incredibly exciting. What the hell was someone like Kyda, with all this magic tech stuff, doing here in a place like Nyxian? It didn't make sense. But then again, did anything in my life make sense anymore? Even when that bastard innkeeper was screaming at me to serve a gaggle of drunks day and night I had felt more in control of my life, which is saying something.

As I took in the workshop, a sensation of awe bubbled up within me. The machinery, the devices - they were all a testament to a world of magic and tech far beyond what I'd ever imagined. Hell, it was humbling. It made me feel small, but in a good way. Like there was so much more to learn, so much more to experience.

But even as I stood there, staring at it all, I couldn't shake a niggling sense of fear. This was way out of my league. I just hoped I had what it took to survive whatever was coming my way.

From the corner of my eye, a pulsing glow drew my attention away from the wonderland of tech and toward a pair of towering doors. Blinking, I turned my head, my brain stuttering a bit as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. Radiating off them was an ever-changing light show, hues twisting and bending in a dance that was almost hypnotic.

“Of course, more magic,” I muttered to myself. Even to my untrained eyes, it was obvious there was a serious amount of power buzzing behind those doors. And the sound... it was like a dull roar, a rumble that vibrated the air and, let's be real, rattled my nerves. It pulsed in time with the lights, like some giant beast's heart was beating behind those doors.

I squinted at the doors, the realization sinking in. The forge. The forge that Kyda was so cagey about was behind those doors. "No big deal," I whispered to myself, "Just an ungodly powerful, mystery forge behind the magic doors. Ok, ok, ok." God, the levels of 'what-the-hell-have-I-gotten-myself-into' just kept reaching new highs here.

Then, as quickly as they had begun, the vibrations and hum of energy ceased. The heavy doors remained shut, but there was a definite change in the atmosphere, as though the very air in the room was sighing in relief. I found myself exhaling along with it, a tension I hadn't even realized was coiled in my chest dissipating. "Forge off... Check," I murmured, trying to keep my tone light. But despite the calming silence, my mind was whirring. The quelled energy of the forge was one less unknown, but the imminent prospect of facing Kyda again did nothing to soothe my nerves. "Which is scarier, beast or master?" I wondered aloud, contemplating my enigmatic employer versus their arcane contraption. My rhetorical question echoed back at me in the silence, a stark reminder that this was my reality now, uncertainty and all. I was left in the ensuing quiet, poised on the precipice of the unknown.

Then, in a strange choreographed sequence, the imposing doors to the forge began to open. It was like watching an intricate puzzle box solve itself; gears spun, hinges unclasped, and parts slid apart in a mesmerizing symphony of movement.

As they swung wide, a dense cloud of scalding steam surged forth, wrapping the room in a thick, hot fog. I recoiled as the temperature shot up dramatically, the heat making my skin tingle uncomfortably. The air shimmered, and for a moment, I was worried that my eyebrows might've been in real danger.

But just as I thought I might have to back up entirely, the room's enchantments kicked in. Invisible forces swooped in, pulling the steam away, and almost immediately the temperature began to drop. Arcane mechanisms whirred, circulating the air until the heat was replaced with a pleasantly cool draft.

When the steam had fully cleared, Kyda stood in the doorway. She was wearing a linen tunic skin-tight with condensation that left little to the imagination, her hand absentmindedly rubbing her damp, ashen hair with a shop towel. Her face bore a look of concentration that suggested she was deep in thought, oblivious to my gaping stare.

I blinked, trying to recalibrate my thoughts. Well, this was new. The fear and awe I'd felt watching the doors open and the forge rumble gave way to a sense of surprise, and something else I couldn’t quite place.

"Huh," I muttered, watching as Kyda wiped away a stray bead of sweat from her brow. "So, she is a she." It was a minuscule bit of information in the grand game of things, but hell, I'd take what I could get. I was a puppet in a play I didn't audition for, and any tidbit that could give me a sense of control was welcome. Even if that tidbit was as simple as the gender of the puppeteer. I felt my mouth twitch into a half-smile, an unexpected comfort in the chaotic dance that was my life in here. I had a ways to go before I could claim to understand my situation fully, but each fragment of knowledge, each little discovery was a foothold in the climb. Today, I'd found a decent one.