Tyr slept heavily that night and all the nights after. He'd taken more to sleeping, to forget his anxieties rather than face them head on. Even with his incredible workload and terrible dreams that made sleeping difficult, he was unapologetic. Confused as he was – it was the only way to forget, ignoring what he saw in his dreams as some latent and benign madness rather than prophecy as some would believe.
Well rested and perky, he finished his classes to the best of his ability. It wasn't much, but the quarter was coming to a close and he was confident that he'd fail in any case. Healing, theory, and runesmithing. It didn't seem like much of a load, but it kept him busy. And he was so far behind.
Notably, he'd been unable to do much of anything except summon the sacred flame. Impressive, but it wasn't exactly a 'spell', and he was left in the dust by his peers, and the interest professors had showered him with in the past had faded away. All that he could count on was producing higher than average quality equipment courtesy of the method Abaddon had taught him.
Not nearly as consistent as the human way, but it worked.
Through Astal's trade connections, he'd managed to get his hands on a half kilogram of mithril, a fair amount of electrum, and all the other materials he'd need. Copper as well. Even with the name and accompanying clout of the Ebonfist clan behind him, it had all cost nearly fourteen hundred gold. Half of his remaining savings. With the mana crystals from the dungeon and bizarrely convenient appearance of the lindwurm, he was ready – having worked closely with Valkan on a blueprint for his artifact. The focus he needed, an experiment that may or may not bear fruit.
“It's an...” Valkan wasn't sure what words to use. After they'd finished, he nodded in contentment at the creativity of the design. A focus could be anything. A wand, a sword, a staff, that was typically the train of thought – but these... “Well, it's interesting at the very least. Let's give it a shot, worst case it doesn't work and we just melt it back down and try again.”
Forge stoked, ingots forged, and a score of molds set in the shape of the individual components. A single object could only hold so many enchantments, and that rule didn't run parallel with the mass given to it. For example, two kilos of silver might hold ten enchantments just fine before it began to crumble, but a single kilo could hold six or seven. There was a ceiling to it and it became exceptionally more difficult the more you want to use. In response, Tyr crafted each individual component independently from the others to be pieced together. More engineering than enchanting, at least for the time being. Built modular so as to allow for the vastly complex array that was only made possible by the presence of his betters.
Mithril was beaten into segmented plates, enchanted, and connected via electrum rivets just large enough to bear the enchantment for hardness and networking. Tempered with mana crystals and alloyed with silver to become a proper manatite alloy. Titanium was added to the smallest parts, that which would make contact with something. So as to reduce the cost of the item being repaired. Only internally did he use the scantest bits of mithril, since he had so little of it. Otherwise, it was only used on the knuckles by which he expected to... Well, punch something.
Each component was alloyed in the way that was most conducive to their use. Valkan helped with this, far more knowledgeable in terms of metallurgy than Tyr – but it was still difficult. The problem with enchanting was that metal could be refined and cast again, but the flaws were not so easily removed. Runes could be erased or beaten out of it, but mana couldn't be. After too many tries, even mithril would turn to dust as its molecular bonds began to collapse.
At times, it could take months for the metal to regain its ability to hold more mana before it could be recast. Naturally radiating it, it was not a process that could be sped up. And Tyr... He failed a great many times, until Abaddon arrived and laughed at the half-done artifact, lending his assistance. The prince could theorize and hold as much information in his mind as he wanted – but dreams came easier than reality.
Developing a unique group of alloys for one purpose couldn't be easy – but Abaddon waved it away as 'child's play', fixing their problem almost instantly. Too much carbon content in this one, the interior structure needed more alloyed copper because titanium was such a poor conductor. It was never ending, the knowledge he possessed, if only he was more proactive with sharing it.
Together, two professors and their student finished the first prototype of the item.
It took six days of nonstop labor and dozens of failed attempts. Tyr was left with only a tenth of the mithril he'd began with, making it a job more expensive than multiple years of a high noble's annuity. All he could do was grit his teeth and accept it for what it was.
“What will you name them?” Abaddon asked, finding the form pleasing to the eye, happy that the boy hadn't protested overmuch about the addition of artistry. Few artifacts of true capability were ugly, beauty had a power of its own. These weren't beautiful, but they were handsome. “A good runesmith always names his product. This, in particular... I'll patent it for you. I'm not sure how you came to this conclusion, but the idea is brilliant even if the execution was a bit unique. Working around your natural flaws, it's not bad, and I'd say you've earned a 'well done'.”
Tyr wasn't sure what to call them. They'd started as fairly simple things, but Abaddon and Valkan had hijacked his project and made liberal use of his material. A hybrid of human, Anu, and whatever runes Abaddon used. He refused to give his runes a name, simply referring to them as the 'worlds tongue'.
The form they took were silver gauntlets, riding all the way up to his elbows. With enough flexibility to them so as to sit over his mothers armor, hopefully allowing him to use both in tandem. All segmented plates and a bit bulkier than he'd envisioned, carrying nearly forty enchantments each. If not for the sapphires socketed into the wrist and elbow, they'd have appeared like any other pair of armored grips and vambrace. Internally, it was a tightly wound series of copper wire, set with electrum rivets and discs of the same metal to connect all the individual components.
Last but not least was an array formation of manatite soldering beneath the plates, dictating the operation and output of the device. Extremely complicated, hence why it had taken so long even under the watchful eyes of two master runesmiths. Later taking control and using all of their combined skill, acting like giddy children at times. Far more enthusiastic than Tyr had been ready for, laughing and working through the night excitedly.
“How about spellbreakers?”
“Spellbreakers?” Tyr asked.
“It's one of your listed vocations, after you broke that curse. Things like these ought to have a good name. They are masterworks, aye Valkan?” Abaddon grinned, usually his smiles were mocking or something of that nature, he looked quite handsome when it seemed sincere. In his reddish skinned constantly scarf-wrapped head sort of way.
“I never thought we'd be able to combine our techniques to get the best use out of both languages in one artifact. After all this time together, all of our previous attempts were failures. This idea of riveting and welding many pieces to a larger body was very creative. Where did you think of such a thing?”
“I have a... Friend. Her name is Sigi, and she's quite talented at magical engineering. She drew up the blueprint for me.”
“Mmm...” Abaddon nodded. “Smart, but complex is not always better. So many moving parts is fine and all – but because you decided to get so fancy with it, it's expense doesn't exactly match its usefulness. Near impossible to repair, but I doubt anything runs a risk of breaking them. Then there were the inscribed gems. Regardless – it's going to cost you...”
Abaddon began to scribble on a piece of paper his hourly rate, commission, and general consulting fee – before the paper was speared into the table by Tyr's knife.
“You changed the construction. I just wanted to make a pair of damn gloves!”
“Yeah... But you like them, right? They're obviously better for it, look at them.”
“Much better.” Valkan agreed. “You asked for help crafting some gauntlets, and we gave you two weapons.”
“I'm not paying. You can take that invoice and shove it up your ass.”
At least Okami seemed impressed. His puppy form standing on rear legs to sniff at the artifact in interest. Looking over at Tyr as if to ask 'a new friend'? He was a strange pup indeed. So powerful, yet so often childish and dopey.
“Ahhh....” Abaddon sighed. “I guess I didn't think you would, but it was worth a shot. Spellbreakers it is then, and we'll let you keep the pattern of course. Since we were both consultants.”
“How much do you think this would be worth?” Tyr raised an eyebrow. Not including Abaddon's ballpark of 2000 credits for his (and only his) consulting fee, the parts and labor costs were insane. Either he was good at ripping people off or this was a field that made men insanely wealthy.
The professor thought about it for a moment, squinting at the artifact. “Impossible to give it a real price, honestly. You see, Anu forged artifacts are never sold, and only usable for you because Valkan allowed it. Our runes are even rarer, my clan never participates in commerce, and most importantly we never create weapons for... Other races. Tens of thousands of sovereigns, at least, if the appraiser has a brain in his skull.”
“...What!? Why not sell these and make ten more!?”
“Wait a second.” Valkan was holding a single 'spellbreaker' in his massive hands. “I'll... No, my people. We will buy these artifacts from you. At any cost.”
“...Valkan?” Abaddon hadn't taught his disciples his runes. Even if they wanted to, they could not recreate them – and he didn't see why they would want to. Anu were master smiths, and while they'd devolved a bit in terms of artifice in recent centuries they were not inferior. Their people shouldn't be able to use this artifact, in any case. It was made too specifically to compensate for Tyr's unique body. “It's just a simple--”
“No.” For the first time, the great Anu shook his head in disagreement with his master, the one he had studied beneath for decades. “Look.” Like Tyr's armor, and the auronite blade, these artifacts were made to fit his hands in the event that he changed in size, or wore something under them. Hence why it was made of individual plates. They spread wide, a clumsy and tight fit for Anu, but they worked.
He raised his hand, letting loose a bolt of fire that left a barely noticeable scratch on the wall. A lesser thing indeed, not so impressive after all.
Tyr sighed. “I shouldn't have expected more, the casting speed is impressive at least.” He couldn't understand why Abaddon was staring at the artifact with a look of wonder in his eye.
Abaddon chuckled. “Think. Use the brain your little gods gave you for once in your life.”
“...”
“...”
“Valkan cast a spell...? I don't see why that's so...” He came to his conclusion, letting the rebuttal die in his throat. “Oh... Yeah, I get it.”
“Spellbreakers, indeed.” Abaddon shook his head. Below the crystal ceiling of the runesmiths workshop, Valkan became the first Anu to utilize his own mana reservoir to give rise to a mana ignition. To exacerbate his wonder and glee, these gloves were tuned specifically to Tyr – to benefit his prime element of fire. If they were to be made better, more versatile... Form and function improved... There was no telling what these things would be capable of. In fact, it was very concerning. But it wasn't Abaddon's call. If Anu wanted to lead a military campaign on the wider world with these terrifying weapons, it wasn't like humans didn't deserve a good beating, and it had been many eras since anyone had stood up to do so. Now, there were so damned many of them...
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“Any cost.” Valkan repeated. The power to throw back their oppressors and carve their own destiny without relying on the half-safety their reservations in the republic provided them with. To earn respect and reap what they could not sow, if necessary. Not a warlike race, or they'd have never been broken by the men of Varia in ages past, but...
For a race that could use no magic of their own, cast no spell without a complex ritual, to gain control of their own mana and use it freely – if only on a rudimentary level... That was only temporary. He was already thinking of a dozen ways to improve the device if he only had the means to do so. He didn't, but Valkan would only be a journeyman smith among Anu. Their waters ran deep. And these weren't only weapons, but rather the most insanely lucky development perhaps in all of his peoples history. All by accident, but they said that's how the men of Agoron invented rubber.
“Send us to my clan.”
“Are you sure?” Abaddon asked. “What about the--”
“He will hear of it. In time. Just do it.”
I'm coming home.
–
Anu were a proud people. An ancient people, with a rich culture to match. Too proud, and most of them too set in their ways to be friendly to the concept of change. They'd live five centuries if healthy. Not immortal, though to the humans they might appear to be. Valkan was one of these people, or he had been. By their laws, he could not claim himself Anu to any other member of his race. The scar about his neck said as much. He was an outcast, forsaken by his own clan for disobeying the will of the oligarchical council that dictated their laws.
“That seems a bit unfair.” Tyr mused. In a half a second, they'd gone from standing in the workshop to the peak of a mountain overlooking a massive valley. In every direction as far as the eye could see were snow-capped mountains, winding valleys cut through the peaks. Highlands, with rolling green hills in between that had not yet seen the touch of winter. It was almost magical. Not in the arcane sense, but the raw majesty of what nature was capable of. Tyr had never looked so far into the distance before, and it made him feel dizzy.
He'd never been to the republic, but it made a good first impression. Bigger than he'd expected, but maps could only say so much. Seeing for himself was a different thing entirely, feeling like an ant at the hoof of a bull staring at those mountains. Larger than those east of Riverwood by quite a measure, some of the peaks touching the clouds.
“It is the way. Our way.” Valkan replied gruffly. Before they'd made it ten paces, he'd had second thoughts about this impulsive venture, but this was the only chance he'd ever get. The Great Mothers fortune had brought this boy to him, and he'd shared all that he could and been rewarded for it. Tyr was a quick study, but he was ignorant to many things. In this ignorance, he had created something transcendent, at least to Valkan. To anyone else, it would've been simply unique. A trifling thing of some modicum of novelty, but not to Anu.
It was necessary to understand the history of his people.
Long ago, the Anu had lived in harmony with all the races. They had no concept of land ownership or borders. Humans could, for all they cared, scale their mountain homes and build alongside them should they have the means. All things were animals, living creatures of the earth whether their humility or lack thereof would allow them to see that in themselves. Anu did not shepherd, preach, or war – they simply existed. And since time immemorial none had challenged them, they lorded over no resources, shared and obeyed laws. Gave with both hands, there was no feasible benefit to engaging their people in a conflict, none at all.
They who had fought under the black sun, older than even the dwarves, quiet and peaceful in their high halls above the clouds. But eventually, as all things do, that peace came to an end. Valkan was too young to remember, but his grandfather had not been. A legend among his people, living to the ripe age of eight hundred before passing to the stone. He had woven such tales of grandiose sacrifice and betrayal that Valkan had found them hard to believe. Until he'd seen it. Men and their wiles, and it made him sick.
A weak race on the surface, none of those who'd call themselves 'elder races' had feared them. Yet, slowly... Little by little, they had carved for themselves the greatest nations on the continent. Slaughtering anything that got in their way in the process. That was one of the confusing bits of his grandfathers story. The Anu lived in the mountains, they did not traverse the lowlands for anything but trade or food. They did not engage in wars, and had lived in harmony with the humans for centuries. Valkan was born and raised on this very same reservation, he'd never seen a human on it until much later in his life. Unable to come to grips with how their 'greatest allies' became their greatest enemy from one history to the next. His father, B'al, had explained that this was normal – that Anu did not lie and wash the history as either the conqueror or defeated, that much knowledge was lost in prideful vanity and logic was to be preferred.
One day, the humans had thrown it all to the wind and invaded. Anu were giants among men, strong in limb and capable of creating powerful magical artifacts, but they were pacifists by nature. Had been. Cultured and serene, humble to the point of arrogance. Never once believing that humans would invade, let alone conquer them. Watching as the army arrived, watching as they scaled the mountain passes, too late to react by the time their mages had begun tearing their sanctums down.
Varia had sacked their homes, their temples, and their towers. Leaving half in ruin and shamelessly looting those that stood. Humans, weak on the surface, but with incredible numbers and wolves among them, hidden in the flock of sheep. They hadn't stood a chance. Now, Anu hated mankind. Yet, everywhere and everything was man. The closest thing to masters of both land and sea, their race spread like a cancer across the globe and one could scarcely enter a place without being the minority in the modern age. Near half of all Anu remaining were enslaved in Varia, forcefully bred and shackled under the watchful eyes of their masters. They accused Anu of warring like the kijin had in the past, but this was a bold faced lie, and most knew it – but they didn't care. Those Valkan's people had considered friends were silent to their pleas for aid and left them despondent, to rot beneath the sun, their dead left where they lay and abandoned.
Eventually, those that had escaped had settled in the republic lands, which had not existed as a unified nation back then. Simply a collection of small conclaves of humanity too worthless to attract the attention of imperialist Haran that lay to their east across the strait. But humans grew. Spread. Defiled. Near to the point of engaging the Anu in a new war they were not prepared with. Alexandros' father had thankfully prevented this was from happening, another slaughter that might have driven them to extinction.
But his compromise came at a grave cost. Anu were sequestered into their reservations, the only option given that they'd refused to swear fealty to a human. Insignificant valleys and mountain peaks nobody else wanted to live on. It was disgusting, but there was nothing they could do about it. As one might imagine, near all Anu bore a strong distrust for man and it had only gotten worse over time. Not hatred, not truly, as Anu were collectivists. They might isolate themselves but few of their kind wanted to war with humans, preferring to simply be left to their own devices.
Pacifists once, but no longer. Too much sorrow and rage had been brought about by the advent of human imperialism to allow for that. Their great dream, or perhaps the dream of young Anu, like Valkan – was to unite their race once again. Throw off their shackles and found a new and enlightened nation away from humanity. Too short lived to develop perspective, to truly feel the world. Too greedy and rushed, always chasing some quick gratitude, never seeing the bigger picture. Yet...
“You were exiled because you refused to execute children and their mother for 'trespassing' on your land? They were refugees...” Valkan's story was a sad one. He'd been exiled from his clan for refusing an order – something that might've gotten him executed in Haran. But last he checked, their military commanders weren't given the authority to command slaughter of innocents. The knights would not have it, neither would the churches, and if Jartor heard of such an incident... He might not be a good father, but he wouldn't have countenanced that sort of thing, not even the nobles were given reign to commit capital crime with no retribution. All nobles were his servants, no matter what their frail egos told them.
That was only if they were humans, though... Demi's and other races weren't often given that kind of face, but a citizen was a citizen regardless of race. Tyr wasn't sure. He'd been black for a long while, but he'd learned the world was far blacker than he. In the worst way. Tyr wasn't that naive anymore, or so he'd like to think.
“It is a grave dishonor to refuse the will of the council. The collective of elders that lay down our laws. Anu law states clearly that no man, woman, or child can violate the sanctity of their lands. If they do... Death. There is no questioning, only obedience.”
“Hmm...” Tyr's sidelong glance caught the sorrowful look of the professor. He was starting to get used to the phenomena of Abaddon's unique talent for dimensional magic, recovering quickly while Valkan waxed on about the history of his people. “A man's got to have a code. Whether it fits the narrative of his leadership or not. Obeying when an action violates your compass is cowardice, and you did a brave thing.”
“Oh?” Valkan turned to the boy. He knew more about Tyr than he'd like to, near all of his deeds. Most were ill. To kill was not to be evil, but Tyr was certainly no paragon of chivalry. Among humans, he'd be a psychopath. Among Anu...? Perhaps a celebrated hero, it was hard to say. Their society lived by strict codes and laws, but those who killed without mercy – like machines and without much in the way of conscience – were valued highly due to their current situation. Then again, the boy most certainly would've ran amok and started a war, so probably not. “And what's your code, Tyr Faeron – prince of Haran?”
“No children. Never killed a child and I never will. Threatened a few, but that's a lesson for them to wise up and avoid men like me in the future. No condoning of slavery. No raping. No killing unless they deserve it., nice and simple. Some people deserve the axe, and that's just the way it is.”
The last one was new among the others, but he'd followed the rest of the creed he laid down to the blackguard for as long as he could remember. In his attempt to improve himself based on the words of his friends, he'd tried to amend it. Tyr may feel very little, but he'd do his best to be the person they needed him to be. One day he hoped they would see it, the effort. He hoped they would be proud of him.
“A mans got to have a code.” He repeated. “Or he might as well be an animal. No amount of rules or prodding could convince me to break it.”
“And what if a rapist or someone who broke your code was before you. Naked and defenseless. What would you do?” Valkan asked. There was hypocrisy in the youths words. Too simple an ideal. Not something so easily made real.
Tyr shrugged. “Kill him. Maybe work him up a bit first. Peel his back and eyelids to send him to Thanatos with regret flying from a tongueless mouth.”
“That's an execution. Cold blood.” Valkan corrected the boy, or at least tried to. Their values were clearly very different, Tyr acted in a way that left little face for law or any justice system. Opting to decide for himself when to act.
“Is it?” Tyr replied. “My blood would be hot enough for the both of us. If it lay in some gray area, I'd give him a sword. Doesn't matter, he'd die all the same.”
“What if he surrendered?” Valkan asked. “Ran and refused to fight, dropped that sword?”
“Then he'd die tired.” Tyr's brows cinched together until they were nearly touching, seeing no hypocrisy in his words. Justice was justice in his perception of things. Steel and flesh alike could be tempered, but wood would only break when put to the hammer. He did not see any merit in softening himself to allow for others to do as they'd please. “Cowardice will not save him. I am not perfect and neither is this code of mine, but I will continue to abuse what little position given to me by birth if only for the satisfaction of putting filth like that in the dirt where they belong.”
“You are dark and embittered beyond your years.” Valkan commented.
“I am what I am, nothing more and nothing less.” Tyr shrugged again, unwilling to continue the conversation and trying – albeit failing – to outpace the long legs of the Anu beside him.