Moonlight filtered through the thin gauze of the window, casting long, skeletal shadows across the room. Aldric sat in a heavy oak chair, a cup of bitter herbal tea cooling in his hand. Opposite him, Kevin sat in silence, his expression respectful but his eyes clouded with a nagging doubt.
"Kevin," Aldric's voice was a low vibration in the quiet.
"Master?"
"You are my first student. The one I have poured my soul into tempering. Tell me... for a Sunwalker, what is power?"
Kevin considered the question, the flickering candlelight reflecting in his pupils. "Power is the hammer, Master. A tool to shape the world into the image of our ideals."
Aldric nodded slowly. "I hope that if I am taken from this world, you will be the one to shoulder the Dawn. But you must understand—in the eyes of Anshe, all men are of the same clay. I cannot simply name you my heir. If I do, the Golden Dawn becomes nothing more than another Great House, a dynasty of blood instead of belief."
Kevin's brow furrowed. "I don't understand."
"Human nature is a gray mire," Aldric continued. "If I appoint you, the next leader will appoint his son, or his favorite. Slowly, we return to the rot of the High Lords. In the lands I came from, great orders were hollowed out by the selfishness of their masters. The struggle against those who would own the world never ends. If a leader forgets the smallfolk, he is just a tyrant with a brighter banner."
"Then what must I do?" Kevin asked softly.
"I will give you trials. Hardships. You must demand more of your own soul than you do of any other man's. Be like the sun—give heat to all without asking for a pittance in return. Do the work that others despise. Become the standard that every man who walks under the sun aspires to. Only then will your brothers follow you by choice, not by command."
Kevin looked at his Master's soot-stained hands. "Like you?"
Aldric went silent for a moment. "Aye. Like me."
"But I haven't seen the visions, Master. I haven't felt the 'Divine Enlightenment' you carry."
Aldric laughed softly, patting the boy's shoulder. "Revelations are just stories, Kevin. There is a truth where I come from: The heavens hear as the people hear; the heart of the people is the heart of God. If you put the interest of the many above the pride of the few, your path will never be dark."
"It is too early for this talk," Kevin said, his voice tight. "You speak as if you are leaving us."
"Perhaps it's just the weight of the day," Aldric replied, staring into his tea. "Seeing the Brotherhood join us... it makes me think of Beric. He was a noble man, but he wasn't a leader for the new world. He fought for the smallfolk, but he had no plan for the morrow. Their failure was inevitable because they were a reaction, not a revolution."
Kevin nodded. "I saw it from the inside. They were noble hearts, but they were drifting."
"I intend to take their banner," Aldric stood, walking to the window to look out over the dark silhouette of the monastery. "Once Harwin and Rand finish the reorganization, the Brotherhood will remain its own shadow. Their task will be the dagger in the dark. They will infiltrate the lands of the Lords, holding secret meets in cellars and woods, awakening the will to resist. They will target the cruelest of the nobility, cutting the economic veins of our enemies—hiding grain, resisting the tax-men, sabotaging the machinery of the Great Houses."
Kevin's eyes lit up. "The 'Invisible Dawn.' We should have started this moons ago."
"We lacked the men. These tasks require more than just a strong arm; they require a political mind. You, Kevin, will be my voice to them. You will be their liaison."
"I won't fail you, Master."
"It is a burden, not a reward," Aldric reminded him. "And speaking of burdens... did you truly give your sword to Jon Snow?"
Kevin flushed. "A loan, Master! He was unarmed in Saltpans. He has to return it."
Aldric smiled. "A Sunwalker cannot carry a broken blade. Tomorrow, go to the forge. Tell Gendry and Master Mott it is my order. You are to forge two blades of Sun-Steel. One for the treasury... and one for yourself."
The next morning, Kevin rode Swiftfish toward the Workshop District. The air was thick with the rhythmic clack-thrum of the hydraulic hammers powered by the Gods Eye's currents.
He found the central ironworks—a massive open-walled structure held up by pillars of ancient oak. There, he met Master Balin, the foreman.
"The Lightbringer's firstborn," Balin greeted him with a grin. "Come for the steel?"
Kevin handed over the note. Soon, he found himself at the prototype furnace where Gendry was locked in a deep discussion with Tobho Mott.
"I hear you don't like to get your hands dirty with coal, Kevin," Gendry teased, though his eyes held a brotherly warmth.
"I prefer the feel of the hilt to the hammer," Kevin countered. "Each to their own."
Master Tobho Mott looked Kevin over, his eyes sharp. "The Lightbringer's students are a different breed. This old man needs a rest. Gendry, talk to the boy."
Kevin showed them his Master's personal blade, Sea Serpent's Strike. "Can you replicate the balance? The Master says this was forged in his homeland."
Tobho Mott took the blade, his breath hitching. He ran his fingers over the intricate hilt and the alien geometry of the steel. "I have spent my life among the finest blades in the world... and I could not forge this in a hundred years. It is not just steel; it is a masterpiece of a lost age."
He looked at Kevin. "I can forge a blade of the same weight and length using your Sun-Steel. But the time required will be double. The labor, immense. Is the Dawn willing to pay the price?"
"The Master has already signed the order," Kevin said.
For the next week, Kevin stayed at the forge, feeding the fire and watching as the red iron was folded again and again under the guidance of the two masters. On the eve of the expedition to Saltpans, Tobho handed him the result.
The blade was slender and dark, patterned with swirls that looked like reaching tentacles. The edge shimmered with a silver, preternatural light. Kevin gripped the hilt, feeling the weapon become an extension of his own arm.
"The Master's is the Sea Serpent," Kevin whispered, a fierce smile playing on his lips. "Then mine shall be the Tide-Breaker."