The days blurred together the same way they always did — laps, swings, sparring, collapse, repeat — except now there were two sets of footsteps on the tower stairs each morning instead of one.
Tatsuya kept pace better than Kaelid expected and worse than Tatsuya clearly expected of himself, closing the gap between them by fractions with every session. Yami showed no particular interest in going easy on either of them, correcting Tatsuya's footwork with the same sheathed-blade taps he'd once used on Kaelid, running them both into the ground with equal, merciless attention.
Guess misery really does love company, Kaelid thought, watching Tatsuya drag himself upright after another failed block, still grinning despite it. Actually kind of nice, not being the only one Yami's trying to kill.
Between sessions, whenever Yami let them off the tower early enough, Kaelid picked up whatever paid work crossed his path — a pest job here, a delivery run there, nothing that ate more than half a day. Nothing glamorous, and nothing that made much of a dent in what he still owed the party for the mansion, but enough that his coin pouch stopped rattling quite so pathetically every time he opened it.
John sent word about two weeks into the new routine — a short note delivered by a guild runner, just three words in the old man's cramped handwriting: Come see me.
Kaelid didn't wait for training to end before heading over.
The bell rang its usual cheerful note, and John looked up from his workbench with the particular satisfaction of a man about to show off his best work.
"Perfect timing," he said, already moving toward the back. "Was starting to think I'd have to drag you in here myself."
He returned carrying two bundles, setting them down on the counter with real ceremony this time.
The first he unwrapped himself — pure white full plate, the metal catching the shop's lamplight in a way that made it look almost luminous, a dark underlayer visible at the joints, a short waist cape instead of the full cloak Kaelid had half-expected. The helmet sat separate, fully enclosed, brass horns sweeping up and inward from a demonic-looking crown, narrow eye-slits already glowing faintly even unworn.
"Cocytus Plate," John said, watching Kaelid's face with obvious pride. "Lynx material sits lighter than I expected — you'll feel that the second you put it on. Four enchants: [Morph], so it fits you properly. [Silent], your own little bonus from the cats. [Lightweight] — lighter than Mercy, even. And [Nightvision], which I'd wager you'll use more than any of the others once the novelty wears off."
Kaelid ran a hand along the pauldron, something settling in his chest that felt distinct from anything he'd felt over Mercy or Death and Taxes. My own armor. Not scraps. Not something I panic-bought secondhand. Actually mine.
"It's incredible," he said.
"Of course it is," John said, not even pretending at modesty. "I made it."
He pulled the second wrapping away, revealing a black steel cuirass, flat shoulder guards angled deliberately to avoid catching a bowstring, and a strange, dark leather belt studded with small buckles.
"Yours," John said, nodding at Aria, who'd arrived a few steps behind Kaelid without either of them noticing. "Petunia, Archer Series. Cuirass, guards, and a Kum belt — that's the belt, don't ask me why it's called that, some old convention from before my time. Thigh plates hang off it, protect your legs without costing you an inch of stride. Three enchants worked in — [Morph], so it fits right. [Lightweight], lighter than it looks. And [Quickdraw] — reach for an arrow, your whole arm speeds up. Reload like you've never had to think about it."
Aria picked up the cuirass, testing its weight with the same careful attention she gave everything, then rolled her shoulders and drew an imaginary arrow — something like genuine satisfaction crossing her face at whatever she felt in the motion. "It's good. Really good."
"Good's the goal," John said. "Perfect's still a few years off for either of you."
Ana's piece was the last one out, and John handled it differently than the others — less showmanship, more care, like he was aware it belonged to someone who hadn't asked for any of this the way Kaelid and Aria had.
"This one came together a little different," he said, setting it down. "Kaelid's tank friend dropped off some cores he had no use for — scorpion, raptor, five in total — and asked if I could put something together for your healer. Didn't need convincing twice."
The armor beneath the wrapping was lighter than either of the others — a fitted breastplate that left the casting arm free, vambraces, thigh guards leaner than Aria's, a short mantle of mottled hide in place of a full cape. Muted grey-green plate, with a thin trim of violet worked into the seams that John clearly hadn't put much thought into beyond how it looked.
Ana stared at it for a long moment before saying anything.
"Eric gave you the cores for this?"
"Didn't want them," Kaelid said, glancing at Eric, who just shrugged like it wasn't worth making a thing of.
"You needed something," Eric said simply. "I had cores sitting around doing nothing. Wasn't a hard decision."
Ana picked the armor up carefully, turning it over. "Three enchants?"
"Three," John confirmed. "[Morph], usual story. [Aegis] — takes the edge off incoming damage while you're actively casting or channeling something, so you're not standing there defenseless every time you go to heal someone mid-fight. And [Featherstep], off the raptor cores — quicker footing, sharper reactive movement."
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"It's..." Ana trailed off, something unguarded crossing her face for just a moment before she caught it. "Thank you. All of you."
"Don't thank me," John said. "Thank the tank who doesn't know what to do with money."
Eric just shrugged again, looking faintly embarrassed by the attention.
They left the shop considerably better armed than they'd walked in, and considerably poorer for it, though nobody seemed to mind much.
"Feels different," Kaelid said, testing Cocytus's weight as they walked. "Having something that's actually built for me instead of scraped together."
"Get used to it," Aria said. "That's what real gear feels like."
Ana didn't say anything, but she kept glancing down at the armor bundled in her arms, something quietly settled in her expression the rest of the walk home.
About a week into the new routine, Kaelid finally admitted to himself that he was, in fact, wearing rags. Between training and the odd job here and there, replacing a wardrobe that had taken as much abuse as he had over the past month had simply never made it to the top of the list.
He noticed Ana's bodysuit for maybe the tenth time that week — sleek and black under Talonguard, moving with her instead of against her, hugging her in a way that made it genuinely difficult to look away from for more than a few seconds at a time — and finally worked up the nerve to actually ask about it over breakfast.
"Where'd you even get that? The bodysuit, not the armor."
Ana blinked, mid-bite. "This? Raichas, actually — had it long before I ever set foot in Avalon. Why?"
"Been wearing actual rags for over a month now." He hesitated, then pushed through it before he could talk himself out of asking. "Any idea where I'd find something similar around here?"
"The shopping district carries a few places that make them. I don't have lectures today — I can show you, if you want the company."
"...I want the company."
The shopping district turned out to be busier than anywhere else Kaelid had seen in Avalon — stalls and storefronts as far as he could see, adventurers and merchants haggling over enchanted goods on every corner. Grace's sat near the center of it, a warm, bearded man named Jude greeting them at the door with the easy confidence of someone who already knew exactly what he'd be selling before they said a word.
"Full black bodysuit, I'm guessing," Jude said, sizing Kaelid up. "Most popular thing we carry. Two enchants — [Self-Repair], mends itself slowly over time, and [Morph], molds to fit whoever's wearing it. Closer to armor than clothes, honestly, even if it doesn't look it."
"How much?"
"One gold."
Kaelid's face went pale. That's basically everything I have left after two weeks of odd jobs. But — extra armor. Self-repairing armor. Worth it. Probably.
He bought it anyway, along with a few more practical pieces — pants, boots, a couple of shirts, a coat — and left the shop a gold and ten silver lighter, considerably more depressed about it than the purchase probably warranted.
"I'll treat you to lunch," he offered, once they were back outside. "And let me get you something too, while we're here. For coming along."
Ana raised an eyebrow. "With what money? You just spent basically everything you had on that suit."
"Pshh, that's trivial. You deserve it."
"Kaelid. You still owe the party for the mansion."
"I'm painfully aware, yes."
"Good, because I'm the one keeping the ledger." But something in her expression softened despite the scolding. "Keep your coin. I don't need anything."
"Ana—"
"I mean it. Save it for what you actually owe, and buy me something once you've actually got room to spare." A small, genuine smile took the edge off the lecture. "Then it'll actually mean something."
They wandered from there into a small pink storefront called Carol's Boutique, flowers growing thick along the front window. A striking elf with golden hair looked up from her book long enough to wave them in before returning to it.
Kaelid tried very hard not to stare and mostly failed.
While Ana browsed a rack of casual clothes on her own — nothing that required trying on, just replacing a few worn pieces of her own — the elf drifted over and sat beside him, entirely unbothered by his obvious discomfort.
"Your girlfriend's got good taste," she said, amused, nodding toward Ana.
"She's not my girlfriend. Just a friend."
The elf didn't look remotely convinced, and said so, delighted, watching Ana hold a soft grey sweater up against herself for consideration. "Sure she isn't."
Ana glanced over just in time to catch the tail end of the look on his face, and something flickered across her own — gone too fast for Kaelid to name it — before she turned back to the rack like she hadn't noticed anything at all.
By the time they left, Kaelid had somehow ended up paying for the sweater anyway, over Ana's mild protest, and neither of them brought up the elf's comment again the whole walk home.
He didn't put the new bodysuit on until the next morning, half out of habit and half because some part of him wanted a full night to actually enjoy owning it before Yami found some way to ruin the feeling.
It didn't take long.
"New clothes," Yami said, the moment Kaelid reached the top of the tower — not a question, just an observation, delivered with the same flat disinterest he gave everything.
"Needed them."
"Hm." Yami turned back toward the mountains, already done with the topic. "Doesn't change the number. One lap."
Kaelid went, the fabric moving with him in a way his old clothes never had, and found himself grinning halfway through the run despite the burn already setting into his legs.
Small thing. Feels like a big one anyway.
By the time he collapsed at the base of the tower that evening, Tatsuya sprawled out beside him in an equally ruined heap, the two of them stayed there a while longer than usual, catching their breath under a sky just starting to go dark.
"Feels different lately," Tatsuya said eventually, staring up at nothing in particular. "Not just the training. Everything."
"Yeah." Kaelid didn't need to ask what he meant. "Feels like we're actually building something instead of just surviving it."
Tatsuya huffed something that might have been a laugh. "Don't get sentimental on me."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
They didn't move for a while after that, content to just sit with it — over a month into a city that had started, somewhere along the way, to feel less like a stopover and more like a place either of them might actually want to stay.