Nest pulled the ardite carving knife from his sheath and placed it on the table.

  A lifetime of overwhelming silence blared in the room in those moments. Those moments of shared fear of the future. Moments of confusion, anger and acceptance.

  “You-” His mother tried to speak, but trailed off as quickly as she started.

  Nest didn’t know how to reply, so he simply stayed silent and nodded.

  “When?” she asked.

  “Today,” Nest replied. Given a prompt, he started telling her about what had happened. About the pull and running. About fearlessly sprinting into the dungeon wilds. About seeing the tree.

  “You were there?” She practically whispered the words. None, save the head of her order, had ever seen the tree in person. “You found the core chamber?”

  “I did.” Nest nodded. “At least, I think I did. After I found the knife and bound myself to it-” He gestured to the room. “I just appeared back in the shop. It was like I’d never left. I was just sitting here holding the knife and-” he cut himself off, hopping off his seat and scrambling to the wood he’d accidentally knocked on the floor when his mother entered the shop. He stood back up holding the section of wood. “And this.”

  “Great forest of beauty,” his mother said, grabbing at her robes. “I piece of the tree-”

  Nest nearly fumbled the artifact, now realising what it was. He put his knife away, placing another hand on the wood and gently putting it down on the counter top.

  “Are you sure that’s what it is?” he asked.

  His mother nodded slowly. “Our order’s greatest treasure is a piece of black mahogany, just like that one. There is only one mahogany tree in the mountain. The Hidden Tree.”

  Nest began to panic again. A piece of The Hidden Tree? Why would he have that? Who would come after him if anyone found out he had it? “Is your order looking for a donation?” he asked frantically.

  “No!” His mother’s powerful response scared both of them. “Sorry.” She shook her head. “There is no way you can give this away. It’s a gift from the dungeon. It’s meant for you!”

  “But what do I do with it?” Nest pleaded.

  His mother looked at the lioness in her hands then back at Nest. “When a person binds themself to soul steel, they become a sinner! You’re a sinner now. Sinners have soul abilities that transcend what we mortals understand.” She held the lioness up.

  Nest pulled his soul steel item out again. “When I finished carving the lion, it came to life.”

  His mother paused, looking at him. Then she looked down at the figure. “Alive?” She held it up to show that it was, in fact, not alive. “Are you sure?”

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  “It was.” Nest nodded. “After I returned, I could hear the figure calling to me. When I picked it up, it was like I knew what I had to do. Like it told me to carve and what cuts to make.” He took a breath to calm himself when the memories of the experience began to excite his heart. “Once I cut the final line, the lion woke up. It moved around smoothly like the real thing, just smaller. Then-” He gestured to the figure. “It went back to normal.”

  His mother looked at him, then down at the mahogany on the table. “Well then, I think you know what you have to do.”

  Nest looked at the wood. “Carve something? From this?” He held the piece up again, rolling it and inspecting it.

  His mother nodded. “The dungeon core doesn’t just infuse the tree with spirit energy. It imbues it with ardite. If the metal in your hand is called soul steel, think of this as soul wood. This is why the piece our order keeps is our greatest treasure. There is no other wood like it in the world. It’s something only a dungeon could make. As far as we know, this dungeon is the only one to ever consider it.”

  “And it gave me a piece?” He shook his head slowly, in awe of the situation. “How do I know what to carve?”

  “You listen,” she replied. “Forge monks don’t decide what shape ardite will take. If they did, every soul item would be a sword. Most soul items are rings, crafting tools…hair pins.” She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. “The metal wants to be something specific. You could hear this lion telling you where to carve. I'm sure if you listen, the wood will tell you what it wants to be.” His mother took a breath then placed a hand on his shoulder. “In your heart, you aren’t a warrior, son. You are a craftsman. An artist. Ardite doesn’t always take the shape of weapons because it isn’t a tool for war. It doesn’t only desire being a weapon. You are bound to the life of a cultivator now. You will face hardship and war. That’s inevitable in this world the empire created. I fear for you and I am proud of you. If that knife called to you, it did so for a reason.” She squeezed his shoulder once more before pulling him in for a hug. Nest didn’t resist. The situation had been a lot and the hug of a mother could soothe any pain.

  After releasing him, she turned and left the shop, leaving him to consider his future for himself.

  ***

  The days following Nest’s discovery of the knife were hectic. Upon learning of his binding to a soul item, the town wanted to throw him a celebration. The need for new sinners among their people was rising.

  The celebration was tonight and Nest would leave to report to the Sinner’s Guild tomorrow.

  For the last three days, between meetings with the high council, the monks, and preparing for the day’s trip to the nearest guildhall, Nest found himself listening to a hunk of mahogany that refused to speak to him.

  He felt like a crazy person.

  “Fine, If you aren’t going to say anything, I’m at least going to remove this bark.” The dwarf grabbed the bark with his fingers and attempted to chip away at it.

  It wouldn’t budge.

  He huffed, digging his fingers into the crevices of the bark and prying at them as hard as he could. Nothing. “Fine!”

  He pulled out his new soul item, trying to use it as a lever to pry the bark off, but it still didn’t move.

  His face felt red. He was getting worked up, then he noticed something.

  The prying had not freed any pieces of bark, but where the edge of the blade had pressed, a grove had been slightly cut.

  Nest exhaled slowly. “I’m going to have to carve all this bark off, aren't I?” He shifted the wood in his hand and positioned his knife. Pressing the blade into the bark, it barely dug into the protective coating, slicing off the slightest sliver of the material.

  Another deep breath.

  “Well, that’s more than I’ve gotten off in the past few days, so-” He calmed himself and went back to work.