CHAPTER 53: 53. WORKSHOP UPGRADE

Fresh paint and a new building made the whole structure shine. There were big windows that let in light from many different angles, with a real forge chimney coming up from the main building.

It was built by professionals instead of the patchwork thing he had started with. There was even a small garden with benches and flowering plants on one side.

"They didn’t," Marina said, sounding both amazed and amused.

"They did," Kael said with a laugh. "Oh, this will be great."

Greg could see more details as they got closer. There was a carved wood sign above the main entrance that said "Brotherhood of Peace Workshop & Crafthall" in beautiful script.

There were smaller signs that said things like "Forge," "Research Laboratory," "Kitchen," "Training Ground," and "Guest Quarters."

"Guest quarters?" Greg said it again weakly. "I slept on a cot in the corner."

"Why do I have guest rooms?"

"Your friends love you and don’t know how to hold back," Denna said with a smile.

They got to the door, and Greg saw that it was new too. It was made of solid oak and reinforced with metal banding, it has a real lock.

His old door was made of scrap wood that didn’t even hang straight. Before he could knock, the door flew open and Felix came out, covered in soot and grinning like a madman.

"SENSEI! YOU’RE BACK!" He took Greg’s arm and started to pull him inside. "You have to see what we did!"

"We put in significant effort! Lylia was responsible for everything! Seraphine took the measurements! Elwen helped with the lovely parts! Bork did all the work with metal! And I helped them with moral support and crisis management now and then!"

"Managing a crisis?" Greg said it again as they pulled him through the door.

Felix quickly recounted three fires, two floods, and one incident when a wall that supported the building collapsed. "But everything worked out well!"

Greg walked into what used to be his small workshop and felt his jaw drop. The main forge area had been made three times bigger than it was before, and there were now several workstations for different types of crafting.

The ceiling had been raised, which made the room feel more open and airy. They had put in the right kind of ventilation systems and storage racks that sorted tools by type and size instead of just putting them "wherever they’d fit."

Lylia’s cooking corner had turned into a real kitchen, complete with a stone oven, several prep surfaces, and real cabinets. Seraphine’s research station now took up an entire alcove, with shelves built in for books and tools. Elwen had her practice forge, which was smaller than the main one but perfect for learning.

He had rooms he had never had before. There was a place to meet that included real chairs and a table, as well as a space for storage that featured a small library appearing to be in the process of being filled. And yes, there are guest rooms with real beds instead of cots.

"How?" Greg asked in a weak voice. "How could you have done all of these tasks in a week?"

"Eight days, technically," Bork said as he came out of one of the new rooms.

He had a big smile on his face and was wearing headphones. "And half of the village helped us. People really want to help the guy who beat Captain Roderick’s soldiers with things around the house."

"Plus, we might have told you that you were recovering from saving a whole village," Lylia said as she came out of the kitchen with a tray of food. "People were very eager to help."

Greg said, "I need to sit down."

"We have chairs for that now!" Felix said with excitement. "Real chairs! With pillows!"

Marina was laughing so hard she had to lean against the wall to stay up. The Crimson Falcons were just as amused, clearly enjoying the changed space.

Ryn said, "Your found family has some interesting ways of showing love."

"They rebuilt his whole workshop while he was gone," Kael said. "That’s really nice."

Greg said, "That’s really crazy," but he was smiling anyway. "You all are crazy."

"We prefer to be called enthusiastically devoted," Seraphine said while adjusting her glasses.

"And before you complain, all of this was paid for by selling some of your old work."

"A traveling circus paid a lot of money for the dancing vest. It appears that the self-stirring spoon is a game-changer for cooking on a large scale."

"And of course, we didn’t touch your money."

"The vest that dances?" Greg said it again. "Someone bought the vest that makes you dance without control?"

"They thought it was brilliant for entertainment purposes," Elwen said. "Plus we warned them thoroughly about its effects."

Mira appeared in a shimmer of light, floating around Greg excitedly. "Master-forger-darling! Do you like it?!"

"I organized everything by both practical use and aesthetic harmony! It took me three days to get the tool wall exactly right!"

Greg looked around at the transformed space, at his friends who were all watching him with varying degrees of excitement and nervousness, waiting for his reaction. He thought about the small, cramped workshop he’d started with, the cot in the corner, and the constant chaos of too many people in too little space.

Then he thought about what this place had become. Not just physically larger, but somehow more like a real home. And also a real headquarters for the strange family he’d accidentally created.

"It’s perfect," he said finally, his voice thick with emotion. "You’re all absolutely crazy, but it’s perfect."

The tension broke as everyone started talking at once, eager to show him specific features they’d added, improvements they’d made, and little touches they thought he’d appreciate. Greg let himself be pulled along on the tour, Marina walking beside him with that warm smile he was growing increasingly fond of.

But as he admired a particularly clever storage solution Bork had designed, Greg’s eye caught something through one of the new windows. A figure standing at the edge of the village, watching the workshop.

It was too far away to make out clearly, but something about the posture was familiar. Greg moved to the window for a better look, but the figure had already turned and disappeared into the forest beyond Ferndale’s borders.

"Everything okay?" Marina asked, noticing his sudden tension.

"Yeah," Greg said, though something cold had settled in his stomach. "Just thought I saw something."

But even as he let himself be drawn back into the celebration of his improved workshop, Greg couldn’t shake the feeling that Elias’s promised revenge was closer than any of them realized.

...

In the forest beyond Ferndale, Elias Grimhart stood among the shadows, his golden eyes locked on the workshop that blazed with light and life. His hand gripped his sword so tightly that the leather on his glove creaked.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, Greyson," he whispered.

"Every single person in there, every tool, every dream. I’m going to take it all away."

"And when I’m done, you’ll understand what it means to be truly powerless."

His sword pulsed with that dark-tinged golden light, hungry and eager. The real battle was about to begin.