Arylos hoisted Eir’s broken armour onto his workbench, laying it next to the broken remains of Sentarus’s sword. He ran his hands over the once lustrous metal, now corroded and worn with time and scorched with burn marks. He examined the dents and tears in the breastplate; damage he knew well. He took out a small knife and began scraping away the layers of slag and grime from the ruined armour, collecting the small flakes in his hand. He ran the grains between his fingers, examining the burnt metal and calculating just how much purification would be needed.

He took sheets of parchment and a small ink filled pen and began jotting down notes; numbers and calculations while also making a list of what would be needed. Calculating optimal heat as well as steps for the work. He lost himself in his maths, running through the options over and over again and planning how to restore the integrity as well as the feather adornments. He knew this would be a challenge and require some outside help; the question was who he could trust to help him restore Templarian armour.

He felt a soft touch on his shoulder that jolted him aware of his surroundings, scaring him to the point that he could swear if his heart hadn’t already stopped it would have done so now. He looked over and saw Iris behind him, her hair tied into braids and wearing a simple white dress.

“Did I scare you?” she asked softly.

Arylos nodded as he took a deep breath. “For once, yes you did.”

“I’m sorry,” Iris said with a soft smile while looking at what Arylos was working on. “Are you going to try and fix Eir’s armour?”

Arylos set down the pen and lifted the broken sword. “I initially planned to restore Sentarus’s sword, but it’s pretty much beyond repair. However, I could take it and use the metal to repair Eir’s armour instead; they’re the same kind so it’s a matter of finding the right heat.”

“That sounds like a simple matter for you though; what’s the holdup?” Iris asked while turning over and leaning against the table.

“These are made with High Templarian Steel,” Arylos explained while examining the sword closely. “This steel can only be forged in one specific forge; Asterot, in the Aurelia region of Templarius.”

“Ah,” Iris responded while rubbing her tongue in her cheek and nodding slowly, making a connection that she should have done so a while ago. “So that means Sentarus’s sword came from Templarius.”

Arylos kept his eyes on the sword until he slowly set it down and turned towards Iris. “So that’s why you smelled of Templarian magic at the palace.”

Iris looked towards the floor while still nodding. “I guess I should apologise.”

“I don’t think so,” Arylos asked with a soft yet awkward laugh.

“Why do you say that? Did I not do something wrong?” Iris asked in a soft tone.

Arylos lifted the sword again and examined its broken edge, trying to get his mind focused again. “You’re free to do what you want; you don’t have to be weighed down by me. Whatever you do is your own business.”

“But things could have ended differently if you were there,” Iris admitted softly. “Although, thinking about it, you would have gotten involved in the fight too so maybe it was best.”

Arylos thought for a moment before setting the sword back down and turning back to Iris. “Fight?” he asked in a confused voice.

Iris stared at the confused Titan, trying to make sense of his thought process. “He recognized Eir and he wanted to kill her. We fought for a bit before he agreed to let her stay.”

Arylos’s face slowly turned from confusion to understanding with a hint of joy that Iris could see clearly. “Well, that’s not what I expected, but I should have.”

“What did you think happened?” Iris asked.

Arylos laughed softly while moving his hair out of his face. “You’re a young woman with needs that I can’t fulfil and his price may have been steep. That’s all.”

Iris thought about Arylos’s words for a bit before her face went red hot. “N-Nonono, it’s not like that!” she insisted while slapping Arylos’s shoulder. “Why would I do anything like that? And with him of all people?”

Arylos kept laughing while taking the broken sword in his hand and got up from the workbench. “I don’t know, you’re desperate? You don’t like it when I call you out on you being single.”

“Keep talking and I’m throwing a hammer at your head,” Iris growled while crossing her arms.

“Whatever you say,” Arylos laughed while setting the sword on an anvil nearby. Iris watched as the Titan took off his shirt, revealing his tattooed body and setting his shirt on a hook nearby.

“Soo~,” Iris cut in while moving away from the table and joining Arylos. “That sword is from Templarius. Is it safe to assume that Sentarus is too?”

Arylos turned to Iris and thought for a moment about how to respond. “Yes, and no.”

“Yes and no? I don’t think that’s how that works,” Iris responded while crossing her arms.

“You’re half Templarian; could I say that you come from Templarius?” Arylos asked while reaching down and gathering coal and throwing it into the furnace basin.

“Well, no I guess,” Iris responded while rubbing her chin.

Arylos laughed while continuing to shovel coal into the furnace. “It’s a lot like that, really. You really can’t judge him without judging yourself.”

“How is that possible though?” Iris asked while leaning against the wall nearby.

Arylos reached for a hammer and began redoing parts of the furnace’s piping. “It’s simple, and yet complicated. Which answer do you want?”

“I guess explain it like I’m five,” Iris responded with a shrug.

Arylos looked down and stepped onto a small stool and began adjusting more pipes, taking out various wrenches to help him. “He’s just like you.”

“Just like me? Like how I’m a hybrid?” Iris asked.

“Kind of, but not in the same way,” Arylos explained.

“In what way then?” Iris returned while rubbing her chin.

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“As I said; it’s a complicated story,” Arylos continued while popping one of the pipes loose and putting it into another fitting and tightening it down.

Iris thought in silence as she thought about what Arylos was saying. “How complicated could it possibly be? What is he; a Kaiyumian or Templarian?”

“Do you think of yourself as Kaiyumian or Templarian?” Arylos asked while hopping down and crawling under the furnace with his tools.

“Both I guess, but if I had to pick, then Kaiyumian,” Iris explained while rubbing her head, wondering if Arylos is overcomplicating things.

“Then so does Sentarus,” Arylos explained in his echoing voice joined by the ringing of hammer strikes. “He’s a Templarian but with Kaiyumian blood. Not a hair on his body is Templarian, and yet for all intents and purposes he is one.”

“How is that possible?” Iris asked while coming closer to the prone Titan.

Arylos pulled himself out from under the furnace, covered in soot as he laid on the floor while fiddling with a bit of machinery that looked like a valve. “Templarians are really the product of millions of years of evolution. In theory, any race could become like them given the right circumstances and amount of time. The Templarians evolved from the forge of war itself.”

“You think he became a Templarian by chance?” Iris asked while in thought.

“That’s my theory, but it’s just a theory at best,” Arylos explained while crawling back under the forge. “Sentarus is a Templarian, but he’s still a mortal Kaiyumian. Myself and many doctors and even the Khymr have tried to figure out what happened to him, but none of us have anything to show for it.”

“So anyone can be a Templarian given the right circumstances,” Iris wondered aloud.

Arylos grunted as he lifted himself from under the forge and hopped back up to his feet. “Remember what I’ve been telling you?”

Iris thought for a moment, recalling Arylos’s surprising words. “Templarians and Titans are nothing special; they’re just people.”

“Exactly,” Arylos responded with a bright smile and a firm snap. “We’re just products of different paths of evolution. Anyone can become like us given the right circumstances and the right amount of time.”

Iris thought about the situation, lost in wonder and confusion. She didn’t like the situation but even if she didn’t like it, it was the truth. She nodded, making up her mind. She had to swallow her pride and apologise to Sentarus. She said something horrible to him that she couldn’t just leave.

“By the way, why the fancy dress?” Arylos asked while rubbing the soot from his hands.

“O-Oh, do you like it?” Iris asked in a shy tone.

“It’s not your usual style but I like it; you look very pretty in it,” Arylos responded with a smile and wiping his hands off with a towel.

“Thank you,” Iris responded while blushing. “I figured I could wear something special for today.”

Arylos’s smile slowly faded as he set his towel on the anvil. “Did I miss another important date like an anniversary?”

Iris thought for a bit, giving Arylos a gesture that told him ‘maybe’.

“What did I do this time?” Arylos asked in frustration.

“It’s not something you did; it’s just something we Kaiyumae do,” Iris responded while waving her hands. “This week is called Youseiki. It's a weeklong festival that we celebrate every year.”

“A weeklong festival every year?” Arylos asked while deep in thought. “I take it this means I missed it last year too.”

“Not by your fault,” Iris responded while setting a hand on Arylos’s shoulder in an attempt to ease him. “It’s not like the new years festival; it’s a series of rituals done privately. Last time, I kind of locked myself in my room for it all and didn’t bring it up. I was…going through a lot.”

“What do you mean?” Arylos asked softly.

Iris cracked a soft chuckle. “Youseiki is a festival honouring the dead. We use the time to remember our roots and culture. Share stories with family about our culture; grandparents talking about raising parents, passing on traditions and stories, passing songs and recipes. It’s a way of remembering where you came from.”

“Remembering where you came from, huh?” Arylos responded while thinking.

“Yeah, and last year’s was…rough to say the least,” Iris responded while backing away. “You always celebrate it with someone else, and I just couldn’t do that. You and I weren’t so close and it would feel wrong.”

“How so?” Arylos asked while watching Iris intently.

Iris crossed her arms and turned to the side. “I don’t know. It’s just that we’re both the last of our respective peoples. I didn’t want to bother you about your people and we couldn’t connect in a way that would let us celebrate.”

Iris went quiet as her eyes started to form tears. “It was the first time I was alone, Arylos. Unlike the previous years, mom didn’t make cake and dad didn’t roast what I hunted. Obo’e didn’t bring any books for me to read. Kaelza didn’t bring any boyfriend that she would dump a few weeks later. Tsurama didn’t play any music that he learned while working in Kajisho.”

Iris went quiet again and started sniffling while rubbing her eyes. “I was alone, Arylos. It reminded me of what happened and how there’s no going back.”

She felt a tight embrace that she lost herself in, expecting him to come to her side as he always would. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he growled softly.

Iris shook her head while rubbing her eyes. “Don’t. I was the one who pushed you away. Your presence just made things worse in a way, but not having you with me hurt more. I just wanted to be alone and yet not alone.”

“Then you won’t be alone anymore,” Arylos responded in a soft voice. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere so long as you’ll have me.”

Iris nodded before moving away from Arylos, getting control of herself again. “Then make it up to me this year and celebrate with me?”

Arylos turned to the side as if ashamed. “I would rather not remember my people; they’re not worth it. If anything, we deserved what happened to us.”

“But you’re the last one, so why not think back on that life?” Iris asked in a concerned tone.

“No,” Arylos returned sharply. “My people deserve to be forgotten. It’s that simple.”

“How much of that is that it hurts too much for you to remember?” Iris asked in a soft voice.

Arylos thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Enough that I don’t want to.”

As Arylos turned away, Iris pulled him back by his arm, her grip firm and cold. “Arylos, don’t you dare bottle it all up,” she ordered in a stern voice. “If you do, it will only hurt more and you’ll blow up again like you did at Bellona’s house. What hurt more; holding it in or when you lost control?”

Arylos thought about Iris’s words, lost in thought as he considered what she was telling him. He had his coping methods for most of his life, but now this girl threatened to tear it all down. And for what; so he could feel pain? He gritted his teeth, angry at the idea of the weakness, of losing control.

Until he realised she was right. His anger faded away, realising he had no fuel for those flames anymore.

“Alright, just let me work on this for now,” he responded in a soft voice.

“What, Eir’s armour?” Iris asked in confusion.

Arylos nodded as he pulled away from Iris. “Yes. Let me at least melt down the sword so I can use it. Then we can go out and celebrate this festival of yours.”

Iris raised an eyebrow, even more confused. “Wait, but you said that kind of metal can only be forged by a specific forge on Templarius.”

Arylos chuckled as he pressed a foot pedal and air hissed through the furnace pipes. “That’s only because the fire in that forge is enchanted in a way.”

Iris raised her voice to speak but was silenced by the site of Arylos sucking air into his lungs with a bellowing growl and the tattoos on his body shone a bright orange. He held his breath as the growling intensified and Iris could see smoke pour from Arylos’s nostrils. He slowly exhaled and small flames licked the inside of his mouth. He kept up the routine of inhaling and exhaling, each time the fires grew stronger and changed colour from red to a bright and rich blue and purple.

Arylos slowly inhaled once more as the roaring in his chest became deafening. He knelt down in front of the furnace and held down the foot pedal, keeping the pipes humming with wind. He opened his mouth wide and Iris watched as blue flames erupted from his mouth, billowing forth like a wave of intense liquid flame and roaring like a dragon. The intense heat made Iris wonder if she burned her eyebrows off as the bright light nearly blinded her.

Arylos closed his mouth and closed the shield on the furnace, keeping the air running through the inside of the furnace and feeding the flames until they shone as bright as the sun. Arylos laughed and turned to Iris, coughing smoke to clear his throat.

“That forge may be special, but the fire isn’t,” he said in a mocking voice. “Don’t forget little girl; you happen to live with the Elder Titan of Fire.”