After breakfast, Traebus moved toward the lab with eager determination, excitement flickering in his eyes. The morning sun had fully risen now, casting warm golden light across the island, illuminating the neat piles of metal slabs, quartz crystals, and chitin plates carefully stacked beside the storage building.

  Vaelya, Dusk, and Sparky trailed behind him, watching curiously as he stepped toward the solid, reinforced stone door. Pressing his hand to its surface, Traebus let a pulse of mana flow outward. The door smoothly parted, revealing the interior—a carefully structured yet currently empty space, filled only with bare stone surfaces awaiting purpose.

  "All right," Traebus muttered, rolling up his sleeves. "Time to get organized."

  He began carefully hauling slabs of metal into the lab one by one. First came the iron. Heavy, dense, and reliable, he set these thick slabs in neat, symmetrical stacks along the far wall—this would be the section dedicated to foundational metalwork. With careful pulses of mana, he briefly fused each slab together at the edges, creating a stable, tidy stack that wouldn’t shift even if accidentally bumped.

  Next, he moved on to the copper. Lighter, warmer in color, with a subtle gleam, the copper slabs were positioned beside the iron. He left a small gap, forming clearly defined sections. "Conductive metals go here," he murmured to himself, patting the copper thoughtfully. "Maybe I can use you to move mana through larger structures, or as basic wiring. Mana circuits, perhaps?"

  The quartz crystals followed, their glittering, angular forms catching and refracting the mana-infused lights in the lab. He carefully arranged them along a broad stone shelf he shaped directly from the wall itself, their pure clarity reflecting light across the room in tiny, shimmering rainbows. "Foci and lenses," he whispered appreciatively, examining each crystal carefully. "You’ll be perfect for refining mana fields."

  Vaelya watched silently from the doorway, curiosity evident as Traebus's workspace slowly began taking shape.

  After the quartz was placed, Traebus carefully retrieved the hand-sized, translucent crystals from the grotto. He handled these gingerly, placing them atop a smaller, separate stone pedestal at the center of the lab. "And you beauties," he said with quiet awe, "are special. You're going to help me store and stabilize mana—maybe even amplify it. If I'm lucky, anyway."

  Next came the large, shimmering slabs of silver-like metal. His eyes lit up with excitement as he placed these carefully along a dedicated workspace set slightly apart from the iron and copper. "High-end materials," he declared dramatically, grinning broadly. "With you, we'll craft the advanced magical infrastructure I need—devices that channel mana so cleanly and efficiently it'll make even my old world’s tech seem primitive."

  Finally, the massive, dark chitin plates harvested from the Silent Death were carefully carried inside. Vaelya assisted with these, her eyes thoughtful as she helped Traebus position them neatly along the far end of the lab.

  "What will you use these for?" she asked, running a careful hand over their smooth, near-indestructible surfaces.

  Traebus considered thoughtfully. "Armor, probably. Maybe defensive plating for structures or equipment. Honestly, I'll have to experiment first to figure out exactly how to shape or work it without it shattering. It’s stronger than most metals I've encountered."

  She nodded, impressed despite herself. "You truly find a purpose for everything."

  "That's the idea," he replied with a smirk, stepping back to survey his carefully organized lab. Everything was placed deliberately—metals neatly separated, crystals carefully arrayed, chitin plates stacked firmly, each material clearly visible and accessible.

  Sparky zipped eagerly between the stacks, chirping excitedly, clearly approving of the setup, while Dusk observed silently from the doorway, watching the proceedings with quiet approval.

  "All right," Traebus declared, satisfied as he dusted off his hands, "we're officially ready to experiment."

  He glanced around at the neatly arranged workspace, already envisioning the innovations and creations he could craft here. His heart beat faster, imagination racing with possibilities.

  Vaelya stood quietly beside him, taking in the impressive, carefully ordered room. She tilted her head slightly, regarding him with faint admiration. "It is impressive. Your world must have been incredible, for you to have such knowledge."

  He gave her a wry smile. "You have no idea. But I promise, once I'm done here, you just might."

  Traebus moved swiftly from one workstation to another, entirely absorbed in his craft. His hands glowed softly, pulses of mana channeling smoothly through his rings as he coaxed raw metals and crystals into delicate, intricate parts. Vaelya stood quietly nearby, eyes following each precise movement as he created fine coils of copper wire, slender rods of iron, and beautifully shaped gears and cogs.

  "You shape these metals as easily as breathing," Vaelya remarked softly, stepping closer as he carefully wound another length of copper wire. "Is everyone from your world gifted with such magic?"

  "Gifted is relative," Traebus replied lightly, setting another finished coil onto a neat pile. "Magic is common enough, but mastering it? That’s another story. Those who master multiple disciplines are few, and tend to become very powerful—and very controversial."

  Vaelya tilted her head curiously, clearly intrigued. "Multiple disciplines?"

  Traebus nodded, continuing to shape a small iron gear. "Magic in my world is split into seven primary schools: Elemental Magic—the one I specialized in—Enchanting, Necromancy, War Magic, Summoning, Arcane Magic, and Dimensional Magic. Each is led by an Archmage, the most powerful practitioner, who together form the Council of Arcanum. They rule our world, each school balancing against the others."

  She raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. "And you? Which of these have you studied?"

  He paused briefly, considering his answer carefully. "Officially, I specialized in Elemental Magic. I was always strongest there—fire, water, earth, air, force, and light. But I wasn’t content to limit myself to one area. I learned Enchanting, Arcane Magic, even Necromancy, War Magic, and Dimensional Magic—breaking more than a few taboos along the way."

  Vaelya's eyes widened slightly. "You studied nearly all of them?"

  "Six out of the seven," Traebus said with a small, wry smile. "Summoning was the one school I never fully mastered. It's…complicated, dangerous. There are beings out there that even I prefer not to deal with."

  She stepped closer, leaning against the smooth stone bench. "And your council—how did they respond to your defiance?"

  He laughed humorlessly, setting down another carefully crafted gear. "They weren’t exactly thrilled. Mastering multiple schools breaks their carefully maintained balance of power. To them, my studies were a threat. They prefer order—every mage in their assigned school, doing exactly as they're told."

  Vaelya studied him carefully, her gaze thoughtful. "Yet you risked their anger, their punishment, to seek knowledge."

  "I did," he admitted quietly. "My curiosity tends to outrun my caution. I wanted to know everything—to see beyond what was allowed."

  She considered this quietly. "You say 'allowed.' Were there punishments for those who studied forbidden magics?"

  Traebus sighed softly, nodding. "Severe ones. My choices cost me much: my position, my reputation. Ultimately, it cost me my home world. The council does not tolerate challenges to their authority. Especially someone mastering multiple disciplines. Especially Dimensional Magic."

  Vaelya’s expression softened with sympathy. "Do you regret these choices?"

  He met her eyes with a gentle smile. "Regret is complicated. Yes, I wish some things had gone differently. But this place—your world—it offers freedom I've never known. Here, I can create without boundaries, experiment without fear of retribution. Perhaps losing my old life was the price for true freedom."

  Vaelya nodded slowly. "And your family?"

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  Traebus hesitated, his voice quieter. "My parents were powerful mages in service to the council, deeply embedded in politics. They valued ambition over everything else, even family. I grew up surrounded by magic and power, but not affection or warmth."

  She regarded him with gentle understanding. "Your world sounds powerful, yet lonely."

  He gave a small smile. "It was, sometimes. Power creates isolation. But here, with you and this bizarre little family of ours—Dusk, Sparky, even Tank and those ridiculous murder chickens—I finally feel less alone."

  Vaelya offered a faint, knowing smile. "Then perhaps your mistakes weren't truly mistakes."

  Traebus chuckled softly, shaping another delicate copper coil. "Maybe not."

  She stepped closer, gently laying a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever you're building here, I have no doubt it will be remarkable."

  He smiled warmly, deeply appreciative. "I hope so."

  With renewed focus, he turned back to shaping metal and crystal, crafting intricate parts to build a future defined not by strict councils and taboos, but by curiosity, creativity, and the freedom to explore without fear.

  Traebus carefully arranged the small piles of gears, copper wires, and delicate quartz crystals around him, eyes bright with anticipation. His fingers moved with quiet confidence, piecing together what he hoped would be his first step toward harnessing the island’s ambient mana for electricity. Vaelya observed intently from nearby, clearly fascinated yet slightly apprehensive.

  "What is it you’re making exactly?" she asked, tilting her head cautiously as he positioned a small crystal at the center of a delicate metal framework.

  "A mana-to-electricity converter," Traebus replied cheerfully, threading copper wires carefully around the crystal. "It should harness the residual mana naturally present around us, converting it into stable electrical power. If it works, we’re talking lights, machines, maybe even proper hot baths."

  She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "If it works?"

  Traebus shrugged, smiling confidently as he placed the finishing touches on his contraption. "It’ll work. Probably."

  She shifted slightly, edging just a bit farther away. "Why do I suddenly feel uneasy?"

  "Relax," he chuckled. "I've done this plenty of times. And at least half of those times it didn’t blow up."

  Vaelya’s eyes widened. "Half—?"

  But Traebus wasn’t listening. Already too engrossed, he activated the small device, channeling a gentle flow of mana into the crystal core. The machine hummed softly, its small gears and coils turning with reassuring smoothness.

  His face lit up triumphantly. "See? Told you! It’s working beautifully."

  The humming rapidly grew louder. And louder. Suddenly the device began to tremble violently, coils sparking ominously as the quartz crystal at its core glowed a worrying shade of purple.

  Traebus’s triumphant expression faded quickly into one of mild panic. "Wait—no, no. That's definitely not—"

  Vaelya’s eyes widened further as she stumbled backward. "Traebus, what’s it doing?"

  "Get down!" he shouted, ducking instinctively behind the stone workbench as the small device erupted spectacularly. A sharp pop and flash of bluish-purple energy scattered gears and coils across the room, several sizzling wires landing harmlessly at Vaelya’s feet.

  Slowly, Traebus lifted his head, eyes scanning the destruction. He coughed, waving a hand through the lingering smoke. "Well," he muttered, inspecting the blackened workbench with a grimace, "that didn't go exactly as planned."

  Vaelya slowly stepped back into view, brushing tiny metal fragments from her hair and cloak. She eyed him with an expression torn between concern and disbelief. "Is this why your council banished you?"

  He waved away her concern with a sheepish grin. "Not…entirely."

  "What went wrong?" she asked cautiously, carefully standing farther back from the workbench.

  Traebus picked up a charred gear, examining it mournfully. "Well, in hindsight, I might have forgotten the purifying runes."

  "The…purifying runes?"

  He sighed, dropping the gear onto the table. "I should've remembered. The mana here is primal—wild, unfiltered. I need runes to purify it, converting it into something stable and usable. Otherwise, well…"

  He gestured dramatically at the smoking remains scattered across the workbench.

  Vaelya shook her head slowly, taking yet another step back. "Perhaps I'll observe from over here next time."

  "Good idea," Traebus agreed with a small laugh, picking up another gear and starting again. "This might take a few more explosions before I get it right."

  She sighed softly, retreating to a safe distance, shaking her head with amused resignation as Traebus bent back over his workspace, already absorbed in another attempt.

  Traebus carefully double-checked every detail of his second device, fingers tracing each rune with meticulous precision. His previous misstep fresh in mind, he had taken no shortcuts—each coil was perfectly wound, each rune precisely inscribed. Finally, taking a slow breath, he funneled a gentle stream of purified mana into the device.

  This time, it hummed to life with a quiet, stable resonance, its soft, reassuring glow casting faint shadows across the workspace.

  "Yes!" Traebus exclaimed triumphantly, fists thrust toward the ceiling. "Finally, no explosions!"

  Vaelya gave a cautious nod, still positioned well away from the workbench. "I'm relieved. Another explosion might have convinced even Dusk to abandon you."

  Traebus chuckled, already turning toward a stack of thin copper wires. "Now that we've got stable electricity, let's put it to good use. I've spent far too many nights stumbling around in near darkness."

  Vaelya watched in curious silence as he methodically shaped the copper into thin, delicate lines, embedding them along the edges of the ceiling and walls, creating a precise network of conduits. Traebus worked swiftly, shaping tiny fragments of translucent crystal and setting them at strategic points along the ceiling, connecting each shard to the delicate web of copper.

  "What are these crystals for?" she asked at last, curiosity finally overcoming her caution.

  He smiled mysteriously. "You'll see in a moment."

  When the network was complete, he connected the small generator to the thin copper wiring and took a step back. With an expectant breath, he allowed mana to flow from the generator through the wires. Instantly, the tiny embedded crystals came alive, flooding the room in a soft, pure white glow.

  Traebus whooped with joyous victory, throwing his hands into the air as he spun around in a small, enthusiastic circle. "It works! Lights, actual stable lights!"

  Vaelya stood frozen, staring up at the softly glowing crystals in awe. Her green eyes were wide, reflecting the gentle illumination with wonder. Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "These…these are God Lights."

  Traebus stopped mid-spin, turning sharply to look at her. Her reverent tone caught his attention. "Wait—God Lights?"

  She nodded slowly, still gazing upward. "Yes. In the oldest stories of my people, the gods themselves would bring crystals that shone like starlight. Only the priests were permitted to see them, to hold them. They were miracles of divine power." She turned slowly to face him, her eyes wide with amazement. "And you have just…made them from scraps of wire and rock."

  Traebus stared at her, suddenly sobered by the awe in her voice. He glanced back at the softly glowing crystals embedded in the ceiling, suddenly aware of how extraordinary such a simple thing must appear to her.

  "Well," he said slowly, offering a gentle smile, "I wouldn’t exactly call myself divine. Just stubborn, and probably a bit reckless."

  Vaelya shook her head, still gazing upward with wonder. "To me, what you create is beyond anything I've known—beyond anything I thought possible."

  Traebus regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, understanding the weight of what he'd just accomplished from her perspective. Then, his smile returned warmly. "Well then, welcome to a world of possibilities."

  She finally tore her gaze from the ceiling, meeting his eyes with newfound respect and perhaps a bit of awe. "Indeed. Perhaps I will stand closer next time you experiment."

  He laughed, the tension melting from the room. "Glad to hear it. You might even survive the next one."

  Vaelya smiled faintly, eyes still drifting upward occasionally, drawn to the gentle white glow bathing the room—an impossible dream made real.

  Traebus moved quickly, hands nearly a blur as he drew copper wire from a thick stack of ingots, shaping it effortlessly into neat bundles. Soon he began weaving them together, creating intricate, orderly patterns as Vaelya watched in quiet curiosity.

  "What exactly are you doing now?" she asked cautiously, stepping closer now that explosions seemed less likely.

  "Making electrical conduits," Traebus explained, never pausing in his work. "Basically, they're pathways for electricity. Think of them as roads, but instead of carrying people, these carry electrical energy. They have voltage limitations—meaning how much power they can safely carry before…well, before things get explosive again."

  Vaelya raised an eyebrow warily. "Another explosion would be unfortunate."

  He chuckled softly. "Agreed. That's why I'm building these carefully. What I just made is a small generator—enough to light this room—but I’m planning something bigger. If I can scale it up, I’ll be able to provide lights across the entire island. And not just lights—machines, tools, actual modern conveniences."

  Her expression turned thoughtful. "You want to light the whole island? With these…electric conduits?"

  "Exactly," he nodded eagerly. "But I’ll need more copper for that—much more. Still, I’ve got enough now to wire up our house and storage building, at least. No more fumbling around in the dark."

  Vaelya smiled faintly, clearly intrigued by the idea. "It would be useful, certainly."

  He paused thoughtfully, glancing back at her. His eyes flicked toward the rough stone house that served as their shelter, and he sighed softly. "You know, while we're talking about modernizing—I really should expand the house a bit. Give us some actual space to move around. And furniture. Definitely furniture."

  Vaelya glanced at him curiously. "Furniture?"

  "Beds, chairs, tables—actual civilized comforts. Things made from wood instead of stone slabs," he explained, shaking his head. "My magic can shape stone, but wood is a lot more comfortable."

  She nodded slowly, understanding dawning. "You need to gather timber?"

  "Exactly," Traebus said, setting down the woven copper conduit carefully. "There's plenty of good wood down in the jungle below us, but it'll take a bit of effort to gather it. Then we can build proper furniture, and maybe we won't wake up feeling like we've spent the night on a pile of rocks. Because, currently, that's exactly what we're doing."

  Vaelya's lips curved into an amused smile. "You certainly seem eager to remake this island entirely."

  Traebus grinned, excitement shining in his eyes. "Absolutely. This isn't just about survival anymore, Vaelya. We're going to thrive—proper lighting, actual beds, real comfort. We're building a home."

  She regarded him warmly, genuine appreciation in her voice. "Then let's build it right."

  He chuckled, nodding enthusiastically. "Agreed. Just as soon as I find enough copper to avoid blowing anything else up."

  Vaelya stepped back slightly, giving him a playful, cautious glance. "Just warn me before you test any of it. I'd prefer my survival to remain assured."

  Traebus laughed brightly, already returning to his work. "Fair enough—no promises, but I’ll try!"