It was already midday, but no explosions had occurred in Kazuri's workshop since morning. He'd started his work as soon as the sun rose, and with all his experiments, he expected that something should have blown up by now, like on all the other days he spent in this room—a room filled with hazardous machinery and instruments.

Piles of paper cluttered over the floor and the furniture—desks, chairs, and a dark green settee, arms spotted with black ink and pushed up against one wall of the room. A tall shelf of books spread from floor to ceiling beside the seat, opposing another wall lined with windows that provided Kazuri with the best lighting for his work.

His glancing out came rare, but he'd chosen this room in the palace for its perfect view of the city. The thought of the outside world chased away his frequent suffocation.

This time, Kazuri dared to peek out the window, stealing a few seconds from his work.

The palace sat atop a high ground, and from his room, he saw the entirety of the city of Kazima from one end to another. He saw the gray roofs of houses and the sharp tops of towers and temples.

Beyond the city, his view split into three. On one side, the dark ocean drifted on the horizon. On the other grew the distant misty mountains. And between them was the steady black skyline of the Shadow Desert.

He gave himself a moment to capture the view before allowing his eyes to drift back to the barriers of the palace, where within, he glimpsed the edge of the prayer tower with walls made of dark coral rocks just like the walls and the floors of his current chamber.

He took a deep breath, imagining the fresh air, but there was only the scent of the liquid substances he'd mixed the week before. Sneezing out the tingling sensation in his nose, he turned to a table and glanced down at a yellowing document.

"Interesting," he said to himself as he read the text from the late Master Taoro's work. None of the other learned men or women could understand this the way he could, but even he, at times, became baffled. He'd read the same books, notes, and journals several times over, but each time was different. He always found something new, something he hadn't understood before.

Learning about this research was a challenge, but a challenge as such was what warmed his blood. It became his comfort against the trials of the last two years since the war ended and the Brilliance destroyed Bickra, the island of kings. War had a way of leaving things, and hardships did not end with it. Their kingdom suffered, and so did their people.

Kazuri's heart and mind survived that duration by studying Master Taoro's work. He had replicated experiments and mechanical creations, comprehending knowledge no commoner could ever understand.

Now, he continued this complicated project, standing in front of a long table and leaning over the document.

"Right," he said, pushing the paper aside before picking up a scalpel. He began to cut a piece of the lakar he'd placed in front of him. The black rock was mined from the island of Bickra; it was now the last of its kind. It was the size of a newborn baby, and he treated it like such. Using the blade with care, he made a chip, and two small pieces, like grains, crumbled off.

Taking the larger chunk of the rock from the table, he walked to a vault large enough to fit a decade-old child. It contained Master Taoro's more important knowledge written in books and scrolls, and he placed the lakar on top of the pile, cradling it like an infant before he secured the vault with a key.

Kazuri returned to the table and began his work, setting aside the text he'd been reading to the corner of the desk, far enough from an accident but near enough for him to read. Then he set the two small pieces of lakar apart and started to probe one using a metal tube connected to a combustion machine. As he pointed its tip to the bit of rock, his hand trembled, and he sighed.

"You've done this before," he told himself. "The lakar will explode if you poke it with heat." He waved the tube once in the air, trying to relax his arm. He looked at the rectangular combustion machine beside the table, its metal panels turning angry red, and the clinking and beating of gears hummed from within, fueled by iron dust combined with bits of other ground metals.

Kazuri glanced at the text again. "More interesting," he said at the notes, "and odd." Then his thoughts flowed. Master Taoro continued experimenting with other metals even after discovering which amalgamation was correct. He let his eyes rove over the list—calcium, iron, copper, and zinc—and recalled his previous learnings. The numerous logs documented Master Taoro's experiments, mostly about zinc.

Why? I've tried using zinc, but it doesn't affect the lakar.

With another breath, warm and humid air came into his lungs. His hand relaxed, but without intending to, the tip of the metal tube he held lowered and touched a grain of black rock. It exploded before him, flinging the probe into the air as sparks and smoke spattered at him. His face was now covered with soot. The front of his blue karkan, a knee-length robe made from pineapple fabric, was singed.

A high-pitched thumping knock sounded on the metal door. "Master Kazuri? Are you alright in there?" came a female voice, and the door opened to reveal Gat Kida.

"I'm... fine... only... an... accident," Kazuri said the words between coughs.

"What happened?" Gat Kida asked, striding to him. Her dark brunette locks came loose from the pin of her payneta, and her honey-brown skin caught the sunlight from the open windows. Her light chestnut eyes gazed at the table and immediately reflected understanding. "I see." She nodded once and strode to a smaller table with a pitcher and a cup to get some water. "Aren't you wasting the lakar by making it explode like that again?"

"It was an accident." Kazuri regained the function of his throat, but he accepted the cup from her and drank. "I was trying to see if anything would happen if I hovered the heat close enough but without touching the rock."

Gat Kida examined the scorched surface of the wooden table. "Well, you have a piece left." She pointed.

In a hurry, Kazuri looked down. Right in the middle of the explosion, the other grain of lakar had survived unharmed. It was almost unseeable due to its color camouflaging with the burnt wood. "Well, old kings and blue skies," he whispered. Setting the cup down, he picked up the tiny bit of rock. It was hot under his fingertips but was whole and didn't crumble to dust. "This is very advanced knowledge Master Taoro dabbled with," he said, looking at the lakar.

"Or very ancient magic," Gat Kida corrected.

Kazuri looked at her round face. Pretty, he noted. "Very true." He smiled, arguing with himself whether he answered her comment or his own about her. He ventured to look at her longer, taking in her terno attire. A pale gray kimona with a translucent layer of fabric embroidered with swirls hung from the base of her neck, its long sleeves covering her arms down to her wrists. A golden flower with jadeite stones—the insignia of Eskolars—shone at the center of her collarbone. Her gray saya cascaded down to her ankles, hiding her legs and showing only the tips of her wooden clogs. And right beneath the edge of her kimona, on her hip, a short thread of tiny bones hung from her waist. She carried it everywhere she went, a part of her culture that had always looked odd to Kazuri.

"Well, I only came by to tell you something, Master," Gat Kida spoke, and his eyes came up to meet her gaze. "The smiths said that they have finished the recreation of the machine."

Kazuri grinned. Excitement filled his heart. "It's finally finished!" He touched her shoulder, startling her with the short press, but he let her go after seeing her eyes widen.

"Congratulations, Master Kazuri." Gat Kida smiled. If there was any discomfort in the way he'd touched her, she didn't say it.

"Yes, yes, well, I suppose it is due to everyone's efforts. And most of the work, the calculation, and the design were already in Master Taoro's notes. I only had to piece them together. The Kahani will be pleased." He fisted his hand and squeezed the lakar in his palm to help manage his exhilaration. Then he opened his palm, allowing the piece of rock to fall on the table. He stared at it, and his thoughts drifted. Now we're only missing one ingredient. We could try using the lakar I have and see if the machine works. But if we use it all up, we've nothing left. Is it possible to—

"Master," Gat Kida said, rattling him from his thoughts.

"Yes?" Kazuri turned to her. When he looked at her face again, her dark brows furrowed.

"The machine will not work without lakar." Her eyes darted to the work table where the explosion had left a scorch mark.

"We'll find a way to make it work," he said, trying to sound hopeful.

"Perhaps it's for the better. Perhaps we aren't supposed to have this kind of power." Gat Kida kept her gaze at the desk.

"Why would you say that?" Kazuri's excitement dwindled.

Gat Kida pressed her lips together before speaking. "I only—" she shook her head, "I feel that nothing good will come from this. It was lakar that caused the war."

"You don't know that for sure," Kazuri said. "We don't know the real intentions of the Sulunese for the last war."

"But the rumors." She turned to him.

"They're only rumors," Kazuri said with a firm tone.

"There's darkness in this, and you know it." Her chin rose to meet his face. "It consumed Master Taoro. He experimented on people." There was a heaviness in her eyes. Sometimes Kazuri thought they changed color from light brown to bright burning orange. It happened at times when she was deep in thought, but for now, they remained the same in the beautiful shade of chestnut.

Kazuri held her gaze and swallowed. "I don't know what happened to Master Taoro, and I don't yet understand his reasons for experimenting on people. But I know that there will always be war. That is, with or without this weapon we're creating. With it, however, we have a better chance to fend off the kingdom's enemies and survive. We can protect Daracka and the people." He surprised himself with his speech, for he was never known for patriotism. Speaking such words tasted unfamiliar on his tongue.

Gat Kida retreated, and only then did he notice their closeness. She stepped back to take in his image. "You were Master Taoro's apprentice. You, of all people, knew how good he was. He was gallant and a perfect gentleman, but he'd changed when he began working on that island."

Being reminded of his past self as Master Taoro's apprentice always made Kazuri recall his age. He was still young, early in his second decade, and had much more to understand. Master Taoro, on the other hand, had been a genius and filled with life's learnings. Yet Gat Kida was also correct; MasterTaoro had once been a good man. It ate up Kazuri from the inside to think that the late Maestro became corrupted at the end of his life.

Gat Kida stepped back as if startled by the way Kazuri looked. "Forgive me," she said, pressing a palm to her throat over the golden flower. "By the old kings, I forget my place."

Kazuri tried to smile. He hadn't expected Gat Kida to say such things, but he knew her to be candid, and he liked her that way. "It's alright." His voice was soft. "Perhaps you're only under too much stress given your brother's health condition. How is he, if I may ask?"

"My brother is fine. Thank you for asking." She relaxed and dropped her hand to her side. "He's recovering. The physician gives him zinc to help him absorb the nutrients in his food. His skin lesions are better."

"That's very good." Kazuri nodded. "Wait. What did you say?" A thought came to his mind.

"His lesions, I said they're better," Gat Kida repeated with doubt.

"Yes, yes, but no." He walked back and found himself scrambling over the stack of papers on an armchair. "You said the physician had advised him to take zinc." Kazuri's mind swirled in the rush of his thoughts.

Gat Kida nodded. "He takes it with food."

It's not here. He dropped the papers and hurried to another desk piled with more documents. He rummaged through them, looking for Master Taoro's notes on zinc.

"Is everything alright, Master Kazuri?" Gat Kida asked from behind him.

He continued to search. "Yes, yes. Everything is good. Great—if I can find it."

"Find what?"

"The zinc... I need to find the zinc." His hands began to tremble over the papers. The whiff of musty books floated through the room.

"Zinc?" Gat Kida paused for a moment.

He knew that she watched him as he anxiously searched through documents. He supposed that after working together for months, she was used to his frantic reactions by now.

"In Master Taoro's notes?" A revelation sounded in her voice. She was smart and could always follow Kazuri's thoughts, one of the reasons why he took her on as his assistant. "I believe you've placed those specific notes in the metal safe box."

That made Kazuri turn to her. He grinned. Excitement raced through his blood. "Thank the old kings for you!" He exclaimed and rushed to the vault, unlocking it with the key that hung from his neck.

Under the chunk of lakar were the documents that he was searching for. He slipped out a few papers bound together with strings. He also took a scroll tucked in the corner of the vault and placed it under his arm. He read the papers first, letting his eyes move over the words.

"Master Kazuri?" Gat Kida spoke when he hadn't move for a long while.

"Yes, this is it, Kida." He had never said her name without a title before. To him, it was inappropriate to do so, addressing her with only her name, but at the moment, he was too ecstatic that he'd forgotten his manners. "This is it."

"What is it, Master Kazuri?" She came to stand near him.

"Master Taoro experimented on lakar with a combination of metals," he said.

"Yes, for the chamber." Gat Kida pointed at the combustion machine. Its heat had already died from the small explosion on the table.

"No, no. This is different. Taoro combined lakar with metals, and he found zinc was best." He raised the paper to her, hoping that she would understand.

"Best for what?" Gat Kida only glanced at it.

"For humans to absorb," Kazuri answered.

Gat Kida's face turned to dread. "The experiments on people?"

A bit of regret came over Kazuri's throat, but he swallowed it. This was important, and he couldn't let guilt stop him from the discovery. "Yes. Do you remember the list of names?"

Gat Kida nodded. Though her reaction showed that she was frightened, she still turned to the papers on the table and began to search for the list.

"His experiment worked best on females." Kazuri tried to recall the names in his head. The list started with men and women, then progressed to only females. But there were two names in particular that Master Taoro had also mentioned several times in his journals.

"Arana and Zahara," Gat Kida said as if she had read his mind.

"They seemed to be his favorite." He nodded.

"But why would he need to experiment on humans? Why the need to absorb lakar?"

Kazuri smiled because he knew the answer, and he was simply waiting for the opportunity for the question to be asked. "Initially, I thought that Master Taoro was creating unnatural warriors. Soldiers who are stronger than normal humans, but then I remembered this." He reached for the scroll he had tucked under his arm, and Gat Kida turned to him as he unrolled it. "Tell me. What do you see?" he said, holding the spread to her. It was the design of Master Taoro's machine that Kazuri had tried to recreate over the past two years.

Various lines, shapes, and numbers formed a print of a mechanical structure with two chambers. One was a type of rectangular vault, while the other was a cylinder. Large tubes connected them in a series that ended in the main body of the creation, a hull filled with cogs and gears. This was only the surface of the design, but this was all Kazuri needed to prove his conclusion.

Gat Kida glanced at the paper in his hand, then looked up at him, brows furrowed. "It's the machine?"

Kazuri smiled at her, then folded the paper in four. He did it in a manner that showed the draft on the outside of the fold. "Look again," he said. A specific pattern, one of the chambers was in that quarter of the parchment.

Gat Kida looked down at the outline and studied it. She took it from his hand, and her eyes moved across the numbered dimensions. "This size," she began to say. "It's the size of a standard casket."

He nodded, proud of how fast she could understand what he understood. "I've taken weeks to study why I couldn't contain lakar as energy." He thought of the tiny crumbs of dark rock that he experimented on, each one blowing up in his face every time he tried probing them with heat. "Master Taoro figured this out. The human body can contain lakar as energy. The old kings may have been able to consume lakar, and their bodies could use it. Master Taoro learned from that history and found the right subjects to consume and contain this energy, but he needed the means to control and direct it. That's why he created the machine."

"Arana and Zahara," Gat Kida said their names again. "What was so special about these girls?" she asked, shaking her head before Kazuri could answer. "But this— It doesn't matter anymore. All the lakar is gone except for that small piece." She pointed at the rock inside the open vault. "And those girls could not have survived the Brilliance."

Kazuri also glanced at the vault, but something else caught his eyes as they drifted to the table nearby. It was the small piece of lakar, unscathed from his latest accident. "Perhaps not," he said. "Or perhaps one could have survived," he whispered as if he was only speaking to himself. "There's only one machine. Master Taoro needed only one container of lakar." He turned to Gat Kida with wide eyes. "We must tell the Kahani."

.