"What's wrong, Brother Lein? Is the forging requirement too extreme?" Laras asked while dabbing her lips with a napkin. Her eyes never left Lein's face, which looked unusually distant.
Lein shook his head slowly, then shared part of his concerns—about ability, limitations, and lingering hope. Laras listened without interrupting, and when he finished, she gave a small nod. There wasn't much she could offer beyond quiet sympathy.
"I just hope you find the answer," she said softly.
Meanwhile, Efan was busy chewing on a piece of crystal-finned fish. Mid-chew, he suddenly raised his index finger high—like he'd just discovered a brilliant idea.
"Laras! What do you think of this?" he exclaimed, pointing eagerly at the golden ring on his finger.
Laras tilted her head. "That... the ring you won at the auction?" she asked, intrigued. Lein glanced over as well.
