23 The First Forge

[ Shirou's POV]

Many times i sat in front of this fire this past week. doing what amounted to chores for a forge. Melting down the scraps into ingots. Cleaning around the place. Skirting the issue, so to speak. Ideas, scrapped. Plans, Foiled. A hammer raised only to be lowered again without striking the hot ingot. Azarius kept away from here, it was like my own little sanctuary. Gave me time to think, and i had a lot to think about too. 

He went back to studying and later learning from his new teacher when she arrived. She waved me away not long after she came. Sending me off to here.

"...Just, do it" my voice pleading voice echoing slightly in this stone room. The latest idea in my head, curtesy of Madam Viola. Azarius' weapon, a dagger he designed. Inspired by the married blades, it was a full weapon. The entire piece was molded together from the blade to the handle. No tang slotted in wood in favor of more magical metals wrapped in leather. To allow magic to flow easier, his reasoning was sound at least. Even if their were magical woods too.

The design, or at least a copy of it, sat on the table next to me. Situated about 20 feet from the forge. An anvil seated next to it as a centerpiece in the side of the room. Almost like a fireplace with stone bricks wrapped in a half circle around it. 

Standing up i moved my hand across some ingots I had set on the table. Magicka like a brush on my fingertips. The changes of this world allowed me my own little reserve. Running the Magicka into the metals, I could pick out the subtle differences. How the Glass dragged it along. How the dwarven metal ingot didn't outright reject Magicka but did only so little then move. A conductor type metal but incredibly strong. The metal even baffled me because structural analysis couldn't even fully analyze it. Orcish metal was similar in it's temperament but far less fickle in it's make. Iron and steel wanted to bring the Magicka throughout it but couldn't. Then came Ebony, Magicka flowed and was enhanced as it moved. Power greater than was put in. The flaw was it didn't want to let it go. 

So many options, for what was supposed to be a training weapon. But I didn't want to make it like that. An idea sprouted at that moment. A plan, A Real Plan, for this weapon. 

My little dive into the books about Magicka at the crest of my mind. Magicka never likes to stay the same. It is very adaptable, so much so, even I can carry it as a spiritual construct. So who is to say the metal in a blade that has Magicka running through it for a long time will change. I don't need to make something that will last forever right now. This will be a training blade, and when all is said and done it will give life to the real blade. 

Reaching out and gripping the small ingots of Ebony and Dwarven metal. My idea was simple, when he gathered all he wanted for the weapon, this would be the base. A single edged blade that held the core of ebony and the Dwarven Bronze at it's edge. Folded into a Damascus, to hopefully aid each other in their make. 

In a daze i moved, my focus on the metal as i drew the billows and stoked the fire. As i drew the metal out onto the anvil and pounded it flat. Then stacking them together and heating and folding them. The process monotonous, tedious even. But a fire was lit this day, a new dawn so to speak. The ring of the hammer as i worked a consistent tune. The metal was in the fire at this moment. Slowly coming back up to temperature. This time when i checked it, I grasped it in my hand. The many years of wounds being knitted by Avalon made my skin nearly metal. Swords crossed over the entirety of my entire body.

Structural analysis on the metal in my hand showed it was ready, just as my intuition said. 

 

Drawing out the metal, once more using tongs to hold it, the shape was coming in fine now. A smaller copy of my trusted blades. Only now with a slight guard angled down where the knuckles grasped. it was wide for a dagger, but not quite as long as a short sword. Nearly flat except for the single edge where it tapered off. The bevels already placed on it's edge.

As i forged, I felt gazes on myself but I payed them no heed. My focus was on this in front of me. Nothing would stop this. The handle was next. Rounding and drawing the metal was a change of pace for the earlier parts. Far more intricate and maneuvering on the horn of the anvil. Back and forth through the heat.

No concept of time flowed through my head as I worked. As I finished the handle, my intuition spiked again. It needed a center point for the Magicka to flow. An anchor so to speak. On the rounded edge of the handle after projecting a chisel began to stamp and carve the rune. As he said, this rune with his understanding, was his ticket. The one to match with his powers. So it was right fitting that for the magic to flow it would need this. 

 

As I was close to finishing the rough beginnings of this blade, quenching it, my thoughts drifted. For so long I just copied everything I could get my hands on till it became second nature. Finally I put that all to use.

The hammering techniques used were of the Norse. The shaping techniques were from the Egyptians. The folding was from the Japanese. They all blended. Bits of pieces of different cultures coming together to create this blade. 

A ringing sound was chiming through the air, still ringing in my ears. A hum to accompany the sound of the crackling fire. Then began the final processes. Cleaning and polishing the blade felt therapeutic to my soul as the blade glided across the projected whetstones. Cleansing the blade of the filth from the forging. With the scale gone the colors of the metal began to show. 

As i put the final touches on the blade's polish, wrapped the handle in a strip of fine supple black leather, and set the final blade down in front of me i realized there was something missing.

It was bugging me since i had thought everything was going incredibly well. But that lingering feeling i was getting wasn't budging. 

The gazes around me were slowly becoming more heavy as I was also starting to come to my surroundings more. One of them decided to voice themselves. 

"A name!" The gruff and graveled voice spoke, shouting to be heard. The presence behind it told a story of savagery, yet honor, and a code. 

A name, I thought how the blade wasn't even the final product yet. Just a Precursor to the end result. The word slipped from my mouth in my native tongue. Not but a whisper, "Fukanzen." A fitful name for something like this. In this world only one would understand it. He would be the one to wield it anyways. An inside joke, but a promise as well.

Finally taking a seat, the gazes started to withdraw. Their presence seemed like a figment of my imagination if they weren't so diverse, and powerful. They watched a majority of the process. As i admired the gold and black tiger like stripes of the blade i felt... Pride. I can't say to know the future, but in this moment (a chuckle left my lips) I entertained gods. Just the shear absurdity of that, made me proud.

So i laughed, and laughed some more.

For the first time, in a very long time, sitting in that little chair, I closed my eyes and rested. I closed my eyes, and I dreamed.

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[Azarius POV] 

The week following my ritual has been ridiculous. Fun in some ways, Aggravating in others. Our little shop, because of so many gods watching something going on in the forge led to quite literally our shop to stop "existing" for people. At least in their perceptions. Granny Viola explained as they had done this as they wanted to watch their show in peace, if you will. 

Really goes to show how they do things. As awkward as it was that was fine. Shirou doesn't get bothered and i continued to learn magic. Or at least i was learning the language and some basics in control. And as our second week in this universe came to a close the gazes finally backed off. As i was about to go check on Shirou, Granny Viola stopped me.

"That will be my job brat, he was makin somethin for you so the least you could do is wait. You've waited this long no need to rush it." As i dangled in the air, as it held me up. Air magic at it's finest, even if I'm stuck in a helpless position. You see, I tried to rush to escape. In doing so i opened a "trapdoor" on the second floor. As i was falling through it, I was caught, now suspended in the air as Granny Viola walked down the stairs.

"I just wanted to make sure he was alright." She laughs and says, "If that was the case you would have just used that connection you have right?" A so-called "knowing" smile on her face. 

Jokes on her because i genuinely forgot I had that! it must have shown on my face because her face scrunched up into a scowl. As I was lowered to her i could see she pulled a certain stick from a small portal to oblivion. 

Now i know what your thinking. She's going to wack him with a stick? Well you would be right, If said stick wasn't more to the damn eye. Because I swear she made this thing as a sick joke. Who in their right mind decides to, when learning to enchant, decide to make an enchanted stick. That heals people. By hitting them. 

If i didn't know the story behind how she went to Morrowind and straight up paid a Telvani wizard to teach her the basics I have been a tad more freaked out by it. But with those madmen around there's no telling what they get up to.

And so after a wack i was back to studying on the second floor. Shirou was brought in by a mumbling granny speaking about reckless idiots. Subsequently, I joined her to check out what she meant as we went upstairs, or at least i followed her.

So, found out while he was forging he was using his small pool of Magicka to fuel small parts of the process. Through the whole week he was in there. Stress had built up from the constant strain of on and off usage. He was overall fine due his nature being made up of Mana and spiritual particles. But this left him in a more compromised state due to the strain he put himself under.

A side effect of this is his pool grew under the constant usage. Not much, but enough to grow say about a third of his reserves. Such growth means he would need to rest for awhile while he "Resets" so to speak. Meaning no projections at least for a day or two. A cheep yet expensive price to pay. 

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An:// We have one more chapter before a small timeskip. A few months of settling if you will before the Last event of the 3rd Era. If you like the content be sure to leave comments on what you think is great and "Constructive" criticisms if there is something you would like to see improved upon. This helps down the line.

As for the schedule for releases, I mostly write this after work as a hobby. There's no money here, just doing this for the fun of it. Thank you all!!!! 

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