Martin stood in his forge. He felt deeply the disappointment of abandoning their plan to help the children of High Pass suffering in the gangs. He believed the promise from the Magistratum that they would investigate and take the necessary actions. It still burned within, a sense of shame at failure. He looked around the forge, aching to get to work. He had gone to Astrid and asked her to look after Cal and Clemetine, telling her to keep the collected rent for as long as the children were with her. She had agreed though she eyed Cal suspiciously, but immediately moving into mothering both, and telling Clementine how pretty she looked and discussing how beautiful they could make her hair! Martin was bit concerned at how Bram and Cal circled each other, like two puppies sizing each other up and pushing for dominance. He sighed, thinking it was likely to lead to conflict. He wondered who would win in such a fight. Bram had a slight height advantage, and probably more raw strength growing up properly fed and not suffering from malnutrition the way Cal was. On the other hand, Cal had been brought up on the streets, was far more vicious and, undoubtedly, more experienced in a fight, likely with a whole lot of dirty tricks up his sleeve. Martin doubted Bram’s slightly superior strength and size would stand up for long against Cal’s street fighting experience, it would likely be a short and gruesome fight with the more civilized boy suffering.

  He shook his head, hoping that when the inevitable fight happened, it would not escalate and result in any injury. He had tried to warn Cal against fighting, all he could hope was that Cal would listen. He also hoped that Cal would still be there when he went back. If the boy decided to disappear into the city, it would be difficult to find him again. Still, where would he go? He knew no one and knew nothing of this city and had no one to turn to. Martin felt he would stay around, at least for a while. In the meantime, Kilia had said she was going to ask around and see where he could be sent or who could be trusted to look after him. Gwynneth and Hurnith had left it to the two humans, deciding that it would not be a good idea to send him to either of their homes where he would not only be cut off from everyone and everything, he knew but having to deal with a different species. Martin shook his head, concentrating on the forge instead.

  He wanted to experiment more with embedding elements within objects, but this time a weapon. He thought of what he had made for others, and what he carried on himself. He was happy with his hammer and was not about to take a chance and trying to add an extra rune to it, he had gotten very lucky in forging it with three runes, Hiphate protecting him against his own stupidity, he was not about to compound that by adding a fourth rune. His mana pool was way too low for what a fourth rune would require. Another ring? There were emitter runes in the Manual of Embedded Runes, and in A Handbook of Embedded Runes with Affinities it had discussed emitter runes and their use.

  He reread the books, then decided against trying anything with an emitter rune. To use one was beyond his skills, for now. His thoughts of a flaming jet shooting out from his ring out would have to wait as such magic would require at least three runes: an emitter rune, a mana storage rune, and a fire essence rune. Even if a fire-based metal was used, a third rune would be needed to bind it to the other two. Currently, he would be hard-pressed to do two runes, a third would be tempting mana burn. His next option was to make it so that it would apply on contact with another object. He imagined a blade, burning as it cut and decided on that as a project, thinking of a sword for Hurnith. He already had his measurements to make sure he could customize it to his grip and size from the last blade he had made. His decision made, he decided a trip to the Academy for a fire-based ore was in order, that merely attuning ordinary metal with fire essence ash would not be the best choice for this one.

  The Academy was busier than normal, he could see a gathering in the training yards, Gard overseeing the mass drilling of squads of unawakened Magistratum troops. He watched for a bit, noting the differences in how they trained the unawakened compared to his own classes. The bursts of activity were shorter, to take into account their lower levels of vitality compared to the Awakened, their weapons lighter, their movements not as smooth. Watching, Martin started to understand the difference between the Awakened and the unwakened. Even with only three months of training, he would probably be able to defeat most of the veteran troops, they simply lacked the stats that would make them effective against the Awakened. A remembered statement from one his instructors came to him, “Awakened learn and earn skills that unawakened lack. A single point in a weapon-based skill is as good as years of training for the unawakened. Its why a squad of unawakened soldiers is necessary to defeat even the weak amongst the Awakened, and the more powerful the Patron, the more pronounced the difference.” It also made him laugh when he remembered that Gard had refused to allow him to spar against the unawakened soldiers when he had wanted to, thinking it would be good experience. Most likely Gard had not wanted him to get over-confident when he could defeat them once he had gained a skill with his Warhammer.

  He moved on, making his way to the library. The increased activity died down as he moved away from the training fields. He hoped this meant action was to be taken about High Pass, but nothing had been said, and he could only speculate. He put the thoughts of what was happening out of his head as he arrived at the Academy store, waiting for one of the attendants. He saw the same old man arrive that had served him last time, and Martin thought he saw a grimace flash across his face momentarily before being replaced by his professional smile.

  “Good Day, Awakened. How may I help you today?”

  “Materials for smithing. Particularly, fire essence ores.” Martin smiled as he saw the man trying to maintain his smile.

  “Please, follow me.”

  Martin followed, coming to one of the desks lined with books arranged in the normal fashion by affinity. He pulled out the one bearing the fire symbol. He paged through, seeing them organized in levels of power.

  Fire essence Stone

  Obsidian

  Permeated lava

  Fire mana stone (Earth)

  Fire Mana stone (Monster)

  Fiereon

  He stopped there. The cost for Fiereon was already astronomical, in the thousands of Golden riyals per gram, and he wanted to get at least 2000 grams, two kilograms for the sword he had in mind. It should weigh no more than one and a half kilograms, but there was always waste.

  He indicated what he wanted, telling the assistant the amount needed. He could see the smile was just pasted on now. Clearly, the man did not relish the trip to retrieve the ore. He smiled, though, bowing and heading off into the depths of storage area while Martin made his way to the front to pay, pulling out one of the requisition forms he had been given when he had been gifted the forge, there would be no way for him to afford the ore any other way. He frowned, realizing that going into the other realms was going to become essential, both for gaining resources himself as well as gaining enough money to buy those he could not find. He just had to hope that the next time was not the disaster their trip to High Pass had been.

  He gave the clerk the requisition form, who then looked at him suspiciously. He said nothing, just pulling out a monocle, then inspecting the form. Martin caught a flash of mana entering the monocle, it evidently was something other than a mundane viewing device. The man grunted in surprise, putting the form down and smiling broadly at Martin. At the same time, he spoke into a what looked like an ordinary stone and Martin heard a groan from behind him. He turned around in time to see the assistant heading back into the stores.

  “Where is he going? Did he not have what I asked for?”

  The assistant behind the counter grinned at him. “Yes, Awakened, he had what you asked for. However, there were additional instructions on the form, and he has gone back to fetch the rest.”

  “Additional instructions? I put nothing else on the form.” Martin looked at him, tilting his head slightly while questioning the man.

  “Not your instructions, Awakened, but instructions are written in the mana imprint on your form. From the Magistratum.”

  “And what are those instructions?”

  “Simple, Awakened, they were to provide you with triple the quantity you had requested.”

  Martin stood there, stunned. Why would they want everything he ordered tripled? He would have to ask Gard or Jade, whichever of the two he next saw.

  Martin took a detour on his way back from the forge and went to Master Anders. He waited while one of the apprentices called him out. He saw master Anders raising an eyebrow at the ore in the small handcraft he pushed. “What brings you here today, Martin?”

  Martin bowed, “I come for two reasons. The first is, do you need any fieron ore? I ordered what I needed, but it seems the Magistratum left an instruction on my form to give more. Now I have a surplus.”

  Master Anders shook his head, “That would be a great gift, but not one I will accept. You will have plenty of opportunities to use it. The Magistratum is making sure you have what you need, and not just for your immediate project.” He narrowed his eyes, looking at Martin, “And I suppose that is not the only reason why you are here. What is your second reason?”

  “You are right, Master, it is why I am here, to ask your advice. How do I treat fieron ore?”

  Master Anders snorted, “Not like normal ore for sure. You will need an extra hot fire. I spotted mana infused coal in your forge, you will see it by its red color. Use that to get the temperature. You will also need a mana reinforced crucible; a normal one would never survive the heat of those coals. I will loan you mine until you have made one of your own. You can copy mine or order one from the craftsman who made it, Master Pierogen. He normally makes pots and pans, but his Awakened power is broad enough to make rune empowered containers of other kinds. I would never try; the mana burn would be too severe. You, on the other hand, as an Awakened of Hiphate can do it, though it may be beyond your skills and mana at the moment, I believe it requires at least five runes, and none are minor ones.”

  He stopped thinking, “You will also need an arcane filter. Place it over the crucible when you pour the ore out. It will allow only the pure ore through. You will need to purchase those as well or make them, but they are far more difficult than the crucible.”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Martin left Master Ander’s happy, his cart now weighed even further down with a large crucible. For its job, it was highly decorative, overall white in color, each of its three runes etched in a different color. He could not see the other two, they were hidden in some manner. He saw runes for strengthening, for shape-holding and for density. The last explained its weight and Martin surmised that the effect of the three would be to allow it to not melt and to remain solid at extreme temperatures. The filter looked like a large cap for it, it's center a grid with a tiny piece of fieron. It had many runes on it, some of which he did not recognize. He did recognize one for adhesion and one for separation, but the other three eluded him. He did not think he would be making one anytime soon, not with it having seven runes of which some were advanced ones that would require extra mana.

  He arrived back at the forge thinking once again of the possible conflict between Bram and Cal as he neared, hoping he would not be coming back to a disaster. What he came back to was the two of them running around his forge, playing at sword fighting with tongs. He cleared his throat, watching as the two guiltily looked up. He beckoned, and they came forward, handing the tongs to him, Bran abashedly, Cal almost daring him. Clementine rose from a bench at the back, holding a book on forge techniques that she had found, blushing embarrassedly as she did so.

  “Do I need to ban you two form the forge? This is not a playground. The furnace is lit and many of the tools in here can damage you.” He looked at them in a way that had Bram cowering and Cal taking a nervous step back. “Since you are here, you will make yourselves useful. The furnace is nowhere near hot enough for what I need today. Bram, you start pumping on the bellows. Cal, you see that red-tinged coal over there? Start bringing it to the furnace and start feeding it in.” He looked at Clementine, “You want to help in the forge like the boys or do you want to continue reading?”

  She looked at him eagerly. “Can I help? Are girls allowed to be smiths?” She looked at him nervously, stealing glances at the book as she did so.

  “Perhaps in the mundane world the answer would be no. Here? I see no reason to say no." He looked at the book she had been reading, "Can you name the tools on that wall?" He pointed to one of the walls, with various hammers, tongs, rasps and files. Eager to prove herself she jumped up, pointing to each to name them, sometimes going closer to read their descriptive plates to give an exact measure. Her father might be a criminal, but he had made sure she had a decent education and read well, "Good, you will stand there, by that second forge so you do not get accidently hit. When i need something, I will call for it and you will get it, immediately!" She nodded, moving to where he indicated and standing at the ready.

  He smiled as the kids jumped at his instructions, either relieved at a light punishment or wanting to do the work, or in the case of Clementine, a genuine desire to learn forge work. He prepared himself, taking a moment to relax.He had never worked with the mana imbued coal before, but to melt the fieron ore a normal flame would not be enough. He stood and watched the process, calling Clementine to bring him a poker, and stopping Cal feeding more coals into the furnace when he felt tit had reached the desired temperature. He swapped the boys out after a while, letting Bram rest while Cal took a turn on the bellows. Clementine looked longingly at the sweating boys, awaiting her turn, but she had failed to even move the bellow arms when she had tried, she would need to gather strength before undertaking that job! Martin moved the kids back as he placed the ore he needed in a crucible, putting it onto the coals.

  He stepped back, looking at the children who watched. “Nothing to see, for now, it will just be sitting there for a few hours.” The boys nodded, running out of the forge into the surrounding courtyard, soliciting shouts at them as some of those there tried to calm down their excessive exuberance, Clementine stayed, staring intently into the furnace while fingering the pages of the book. Martin used the time to review the notes in A Handbook of Embedded Runes with Affinities, making sure he understood and was ready for the process, getting up occasionally to check the furnace, expecting to need to pump the bellows, but the mana imbued coals burned at an even temperature and showed no signs of cooling.

  He maneuvered the crucible out of the forge using tongs while wearing the thickest leather gloves he had. He saw the metal on the tongs bending slightly with the heat and realized he felt nothing, his ring dissipating what heat did come through. Briefly, he wondered if the heat of the mana imbued coal would count as natural heat, he could ignore but decided not to test it. Placing the crucible down on a large anvil, he quickly fitted the filter, watching as it seemed to grab the edges of the crucible and forming a tight seal. Picking it up in the tongs again, he poured the metal out into a mold he had set aside, forming one long bar of fieron for him to use. He knew he still had to wait for this to cool, but soon he would be able to start on the real work!

  Looking outside, he could see it was going on midday, so he took a break to eat while he waited for the metal to cool. The rest of the afternoon was spent warming and cooling the metal as needed. His shoulders ached as he pounded, all his strength needed to move the metal beneath his hammer, the magical steel difficult to work with. By evening he was exhausted, his shoulders burned and his back ached, but he had the blade formed. It was enough for the day, tomorrow he would continue fashioning it, completing its shape and engraving the necessary runes before he heat cycled and quenched it. For now, he was too tired to do more. He broke his concentration, and found Clementine still sitting there, staring intently at him.

  “Have you been watching all day? I get lost in my work and do not notice much.” Martin spoke to her, and she vigorously nodded her head. “How old are you?”

  “Nine.” She paused, “In two months, but it is so close!” He laughed, it was the answer he would expect from his own brother. He gave her the same answer his own Master had given to Dravid. "You may watch and come help whenever I am here, but you are too young for an apprenticeship. The Smithing Guild will not allow an apprenticeship before you are ten," He gave her a tight-lipped smile, "I am also neither a Master or a full time Smith, I will not be taking an apprentice for a long time yet. But if you are still interested when you are old enough, and you are still here, i will see if I can find someone to take you on." She grinned, happy, this was enough for her, and he wondered if she was still waiting for her father's men to retrieve her or if she was laying low so they would not find her.

  The night had been interesting, Astrid had invited him, Cal and Clementine to eat with her and Bram. The two boys had spent the meal behaving, with Cal surreptitiously watching Bram for cues as to how to behave at the table. He did a credible job, though when he thought no one was watching Martin saw him stuffing some of the food into his shirt. Martin frowned but said nothing. The habits of living on the streets were not going to broken that quickly. Clementine ate with the refined manners of the nobility. Martin could only think her father had intentions to make sure she escaped to better climes and circumstances than his. Martin smiled at her when she noticed him looking and she smiled back, content to be where she was

  The next morning Martin made his way to the forge early, eager to continue with his sword. He found a perplexed Pamby staring at the furnace.

  “Morning, m’lord. Strange fire this. Burning hot and me not touching it at all!”

  Martin came, standing before the furnace, looking in. He could feel the heat of the mana imbued logs, feeling not a single bit cooler than the day before. He would have to ask Master Anders how long it would burn for, or how to cool it down if it did not. Too much heat for too long would damage the furnace!

  “Never mind, Pamby. Thanks for coming. I am sure it will cool down eventually. I just used some of the special coals. They burn better.”

  Pamby left, shaking his head as he did so, “That it does m’lord, that it does.”

  Martin got to work, things going far faster than expected since he did not need to build up the fire. He finished his shaping of the blade and its tang, forging an additional piece into a guard for it, a simple cross guard, while the blade cooled down. He started working on the runes with the metal still hot to touch, though he felt nothing due to his ring. He sweated as he worked, taking his time to make sure the runes were precise and perfectly formed. He nodded to himself, happy with the shape, form and interaction between the mana storage rune and the binding rune. He examined the connection of the inherent fire essence of the fieron ore to the mana storage rune, checking that the two were bound. He breathed in deeply as all seemed in order and started cycling mana.

  He felt the mana leaving him, cycling into the sword, into the two runes, each greedily gulping in the mana. He lost track of time, of the flow of mana out of him as it circulated until he felt a burning in his chest. He opened his eyes, seeing a blue glow over his work as the mark of Hiphate on his chest glowed. He screamed, feeling his mana empty, pulling on his mark. He had erred, one of the runes was more powerful than he thought, pulling more out than he had to give. He could feel the rune pulling, his life essence draining as it drank it in instead of mana, but he could not pull away! Eventually, it stopped, and he collapsed over his work.

  He awoke as the two boys came hurtling, dragged to the forge by frantic Clementine who had arrived to watch without him noticing. He waved weakly, sitting up. His head hurt and his hands appeared blackened from the channelling of his essence instead of mana. His chest felt like it was burned, and he could see some red welts around Hiphates mark, but nothing worse. He moved his hands, grateful that they still worked and that the discoloration appeared to be superficial. He plunged them into a barrel of water, sighing in relief when, with just a light rubbing, they came away clean. He had gotten away with it. He was tired, had superficial burns and a headache that made the world spin, but he had survived the mana burn relatively unscathed. There would be no further work this day!

  The next day rested and feeling better, though his head still screamed when he moved fast, he returned to the forge. The furnace had finally burned out and it burned with the heat of the normal coals that Pamby had set within. The boys were there again along with Clementine, all excited to see the promised quench and possible flames as the hot blade met oil, so Martin was able to use them to once again feed the mana imbued coal into the fire and pump the bellows. To get the fieron ore hot enough to quench it would need that extra heat!

  The display was as spectacular as the onlookers could have wished for, and Martin blessed his ring as flames shot up along the blade and up his arm. His clothing was scorched, but he remained unharmed. Most importantly, the blade stayed straight and true. No cracks or imperfections to be seen. The final touches were put on the blade. Its edge sharpened and the blade polished with its handle completed with bone, carefully carved to make it grip properly and align the hand to the blade. Only one last test remained. He concentrated, cycling his man, sending it into the blade’s mana storage.

  He grinned at the children as he took out a log from the firewood pile and walked outside, placing it atop an empty barrel. He winked them, leaving them wondering why he did so, as he swung the sword down from over his head into the log. It hit, cutting into the log, and a wave of heat exited at the same time leaving the wood blackened where it touched. The kids shouted in excitement and amazement, neither had ever seen an elemental blade before. Martin was just as excited, he too had never seen such a thing, and, what made it even better, this blade had been made by him. He brought it up before his eyes, examining it, wanting to see what it was.

  Ecstatic with the effects of that, he looked at his own stats, wanting to see how he had been affected by his latest work.

  He smiled, delighted with the additions to his skills and his rise in level!