"I like to come here," he says over the cacophony of sounds created by metal and fire. "To think, to remember, to forget."
I never knew he was a blacksmith. "Are any of those sculptures yours?"
"Yes, a few."
"Your work is beautiful."
"Ella—Grandmaster Gabriella—taught me after…" He stops himself and slams the hammer down harder than before. "Ella taught me." The steel stretches as he works on it, turning into a blade.
"Do you like forging swords?"
He pauses. "See this steel? It's raw potential, but I give it purpose. I can change one thing to another. I can make it better." He resumes hammering.
I walk closer, but avoid the sparks. "Like the Orders?"
"Like everything." He pushes the steel into a bin of water. Steam rises. "Take you, for example. Your parents forged you into who you are. Now, you must decide who you want to be. People can change, and they can be changed. Everything can be transformed."
He lays the steel bar, now resembling a sword, down on the anvil and removes his apron. "I've thought about our talk regarding Nightfall. And though I still believe she is in the wrong, I also believe she is like this steel. She has raw potential, and if she can find the right purpose, she can do great things."
His words mean more to me than he can imagine. Or perhaps he can. Maybe that's why he said them.
I hug him, and he hugs me back. He pulls away too soon. "Scarlett, there's something I have to tell you. Tomorrow night, I will be the one whipped in the courtyard."
"What? Why?"
"The Council has determined that I must be punished for killing the Officers."
"It was Varian, wasn't it? I heard him ask if you’d ever been disciplined." I raise a fist, as if to fight Varian now.
Jax lowers my hand. "I don't know if it was Varian, but it's what the Council has decided. I will accept the necessary punishment."
He looks so calm, almost happy. I punch him in the chest. "Why'd you kill those Officers? There were other things we could have done, contact the Chancellor, or Gabriella—"
"I never told you how it happened, did I? How I killed the Nephilim girl." He sounds quiet, sad.
My anger is replaced by compassion, and I lower my fists, shaking my head, and he gestures me closer. We sit side by side on the stone steps, and Jax stares into the distant flames. "Do you know of my mother?"
"She died when you were born."
"No. My mother was a Templar, and I was born at Castle V. When my father was assigned to watch over your family, it was decided that I'd go with him, so that I could have a normal life. So I wouldn't grow up surrounded by battle and death."
I had no idea. I take his hand, my heart hurting for him. All this he kept inside. For the first time I start to see the sacrifice he's made in keeping these secrets. In living a double life.
He squeezes my hand and continues holding it as he talks. "For years, I thought, just as you, that my mother was dead. But when I discovered I was a Zenith, when I asked my father to join the Orders, he told me the truth."
It takes him a moment to speak again. "That summer, I traveled to Castle V, and I met my mother. She was beautiful, Scarlett. And kind. She was everything I'd dreamed my mother would be. She taught me how to fight, how to forge. She taught me what it meant to be a Knight. How to do the right thing, no matter the cost."
A bead of sweat runs down my forehead as flames from the forge heat up the air around us. I ignore the discomfort and focus on Jax.
"When I was fourteen, my mother and I were stationed at a Templar control center. It was a secret location, where Templars could receive and give orders. I was there to observe and learn. We were ambushed. Someone had betrayed us."
He squeezes my hand harder, his face a mask of grief and anger. "My mother killed two Nephilim while I disarmed a Zenith. We thought it was over, and then I saw her. I still remember her face. The long black hair, the cold blue eyes. She looked a year younger than me. I could have stopped her, I should have stopped her… but I didn't…"
His voice hitches and turns gravelly, almost a whisper, as he continues. "The girl charged my mother from behind, and she slit my mother's throat."
A tear trickles down his cheek. "As my mother fell to the ground, the girl turned on me, and finally my training kicked in. We fought. I kicked her, and her body fell back, impaling itself on a spear stuck in the wall behind her. It tore through her heart, killing her. I ran to my mother, to hold her, to tell her she'd be fine, but she was already gone."
He turns his face to look at me now, his eyes so full of sorrow. "I was the only one left alive. The Orders contacted my eGlass. They said someone was fleeing the area through the woods, possibly the traitor, and I was to terminate them. So I followed."
He pauses and I just hold his hand tighter, waiting for him to finish, knowing there's something more. Something even worse.
"I caught him," Jax whispers. "The traitor. It was my father."
I feel the weight of this pain, this hurt. I knew his father. Loved his father. He was family. I can't imagine being in Jax's position. Having to make that kind of choice.
"I asked him why," Jax says as he gazes back into the flames. "He tried to explain. He never believed the Nephilim were evil. The War was pointless. He'd been helping end it. I told him my mother was dead because of him. He told me he didn't know. Didn't know we were at the control center. But how could I trust a traitor?"