Chương 171: Chapter 32: The Shape of Humility

Now that regular university classes had officially begun, her routine would once again be altered. She could no longer go see Remo whenever she pleased; she would have to stick to the strict schedule of complementary physical training. So that day, breaking from weeks of study and training routines, she decided to head to the goldsmithing workshop. Perhaps Meilan had returned. Upon reaching the door of the young goldsmith's orderly space, she paused when she heard a conversation inside.

Two voices: one clear and melodious, though with a tone of contained pride, that was undoubtedly Meilan and another deeper, male voice of genuine admiration, which could only belong to Corvus. —It is incredible that you obtained it —Corvus was saying, with a tone of genuine contemplation and respect he rarely used— I haven't seen that color of blued silver since... decades ago. It has the sheen of the sky just before a snowstorm in the mountains of Khelganor.

Steps were heard; the master was surely walking over to take a closer look. —I didn't spend more time than necessary in those damp, dark mines for nothing —Meilan replied, her voice heavy with the deep satisfaction of a seeker who has found her treasure— The elders of the village of Keib said the vein had dried up generations ago. But sometimes, what lies dormant is merely waiting for someone who knows how to listen to the stone.

Selena smiled at the description, recalling Meilan's lessons on how every metal possessed a different sound or voice, as she put it. She knocked softly on the door before opening it. As she entered, both looked up at her. Meilan stood beside a workbench, holding what appeared to be a small bar of metal of an unusual silver color, with a subtle bluish sheen. Corvus, beside her, was nodding with approval. —You came back, shorty —Selena said, turning to Meilan with a playful smile.

Meilan immediately put on an exaggerated expression of annoyance, puffing out her cheeks slightly. But when Selena looked at her more closely, she noticed something: the girl seemed... a little taller. Perhaps only a centimeter, but it was noticeable. It must be the shoes, Selena thought, though she knew Meilan always wore the same practical footwear. —You missed my birthday —the countess continued, adopting a tone of feigned offense— But I will let you make it up to me in exchange for a pretty piece of jewelry.

Perhaps... a dune felis that can sing. Yes, like a music box. One that meows every time I open the lid. The goldsmith placed the silver ingot on the table, then let out an exasperated sigh. —If you call me shorty again, I will steal all your shoes and hide them on the roof. Then we will see your true height when you have to walk barefoot. —She paused, crossing her arms— And you know music boxes aren't easy to make. The mechanisms are delicate. But...

with what I brought back from the mines, perhaps I can give you a more traditional piece of jewelry. Something that shines with the soul of Mount Talan. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Corvus greeted Selena with a nod of his head and turned toward the door, but before leaving, he turned back to Meilan. —By the way, little master... would you trade one of those new jewels you plan to make... for a painting by Sora?

You know, it isn't much, but she is my best painter, and she owes me a favor. Think about it. His tone was casual, but there was a flicker of negotiation in his eyes. As soon as Corvus stepped out and closed the door, Meilan winked at Selena. —I hate Sora's style —she confessed in a low voice, as if sharing a heretical secret— She paints far too realistically for my taste. Everything exact, everything... flat. Imagination, shapes that suggest more than they show... that is far more beautiful.

Her landscapes remind me of... frozen waves. Precise, but soul-less. She smiled, her expression turning warmer. —Actually... I did bring you a birthday gift. Even if I arrived late. She headed into one of the side rooms, and after searching among her things for a minute, returned with a small box of dark, unadorned wood. She opened it carefully. Inside, resting on a piece of black velvet, lay a ring.

—I couldn't give you earrings after the one you made yourself —Meilan said, her voice now serious, almost ceremonial— nor a necklace. I didn't want to make you wear something so eye-catching. She gestured with her chin toward the thread and resin necklace Selena was wearing, Maya's gift. —I am glad they gave you one, so mine will shine even brighter. Still, I thought... how about this small ring? She picked it up and held it to the light. It was neither gold nor the blued silver she had just shown.

It was steel, but an exceptionally refined steel, with a braided pattern so fine it resembled the subtle movement of a sketched serpent. Crowning the design, set with a precision that spoke of hours of meticulous work, was a small, perfectly polished obsidian gem that caught the light and cast it back like a fragment of a starry night. —It is incredibly humble for a countess —Meilan continued, observing Selena's reaction— Some at court would consider it almost an insult, but I know you.

I have observed you while you learn. Your clothes are of good quality, yes, but you repeat outfits. Your shoes are worn from walking the road, not from dancing. You wear silk sometimes, but linen most of the time. You hate ostentatious luxury, and that is why this genius goldsmith... She stretched out the word, pointing to herself with a gesture of mock arrogance. Selena smiled faintly, and Meilan simply continued. —... gives you a prized object.

A work of art that portrays your essence or at least what I see: a humility that shines with the intensity of a masterpiece. Because it is not wealth that creates value, but the truth it contains. She reached out and, with a gentle yet firm gesture, slipped the ring onto the pinky finger of Selena's right hand. It fit perfectly, as if custom-made for her. Selena looked at the ring, then at Meilan. A wide, genuine smile illuminated her face.

—One would think that from down there you would observe a tall person better —she said, laughing delightfully— But look at you... giving me a work of art. Without warning, she leaned down and wrapped the young goldsmith in a tight hug. Meilan went stiff at first, surprised by the gesture, clearly uncomfortable with such direct physical contact. But then, slowly, her shoulders relaxed and she returned the hug, a brief yet sincere gesture. —I will treasure it —Selena whispered in Meilan's ear— Thank you.

Thank you for truly seeing me. For noticing something I never speak of. She stepped back, keeping her hands on the girl's shoulders. The countess continued, her voice filled with emotion: —When it is your birthday, I will give you something only I can create. Perhaps... a painting. But not like Sora's. Something that captures the soul of things, not just their form. The rest of the day was spent catching up on the little girl's anecdotes from her journey.

Keib had been a mining town a century and a half ago, its veins of blued silver famous across the entire continent. The ore had been so renowned that it was considered the metal of the moon, of tides, of currents used to craft countless symbols, though nowadays only powerful men retained pieces of it.