Another month passed by and it had been nearly a year since Jekan’s Centurion Candidates arrived in Aenebra. In a mere few months Ryke would be a year older, he’d have spent a year without his father and a year with his new friends. Yet no one in the city was confident they’d make another month, let alone three.
Once the Tribune decided that Ryke’s squad was ready to return to the field, they began carrying out missions again. Every three days they’d be sent out of the city to acquire more herbs, kill more Fera or simply scout the Bastion’s surroundings. He worried less about their safety once everyone had refined a single sense, but the feeling of worry always wormed itself into his head anyways. All he could do was his best, so he did.
When they were ‘home’, Ryke followed his usual routine of train, lessons, or forging. Once a week he’d take Lycus and Ofrir into the city to meet with Cassia. The girl spent all of her time now wandering the city to find the most interesting spots and the most unique items; always doing her best to show off how much she learned and how cool it was. When the duo asked Ryke if they could meet her more than once a week he couldn’t hide the smile on his face.
Breathing in, he adjusted his stance. One leg forward, one back. Leverage the whole body, twist the hips. Rhythm. Runesmithing wasn’t just about carving runes into steel, but one also had to know how to forge the varying materials together the best. If the resulting metal had no vertices, it was useless. Fit only for a legionary and not a Centurion. It was purely a matter of technique.
Gaeldir leaned against a pillar and watched whilst he popped sunflower seeds into his mouth. Watching the man swallow dozens with every breath from the corner of his eye, Ryke struggled to not get distracted; sending his vitality surging through his body and lighting his body up with an azure glow. He brought the hammer down on the soft molten metal and felt its shape shift beneath the tool, molding to his desire. Slowly, he hammered it out until he had to heat it again, then repeated.
Oddly rhythmic, the sound of metal on metal rang out within the workshop and Gaeldir’s eyes slowly narrowed. He watched as the boy shaped the metal into something more, yet shook his head when the weapon was quenched. A resounding crack split through the air and Ryke watched, stunned, as an inch thick line spread across the blade like lightning. “The fuck?”
“Tell me what went wrong.” The Runesmith lumbered over, tossing another dozen seeds into his mouth before tossing the empty bag into the room behind him. Ryke stood there trying to think as his gaze stuck on the blade.
“I’m not sure. It was forged using a mix of Sylvan Corsteel and Pluvis Iron. A nature attribute and a water attribute respectively, they should have alloyed fine-” Ryke stopped, Gaeldir’s glare silencing him mid-sentence as the boy looked to the ground. He did not feel good.
“Tell me the characteristics of Sylvan Corsteel and Pluvis Iron.”
“Sylvan Corsteel is rigid and unyielding, vitality that courses through it becomes more durable. Pluvis Iron is ‘flexible’ and best at dispersing the force that strikes it. The two should have created a strong durable blade that shook off force.”
“Or-” Gaeldir spoke. “The flexible and rigid characteristics of the blade counter each other, causing a clash between the metals that, when forcefully fused together, will destroy the blade.”
“But the attributes match?”
“Anything with vitality, boy, can be thought of as alive. When you forge two Runic Materials together you are fusing two lives together. The more materials you use, the more complicated the process and the better the result. Attributes may be important, yes, but characteristics can destroy the balance or restore it.” Gaeldit rolled his shoulders and then stretched his hand out. A spear came flying through the air and landed softly in his palm. Lowering it, he spoke again.
“Ignil Rock” He pointed to the spearhead. “And Pluvis Iron,” Gaeldir pointed to the shaft of the weapon. “Ignil Rock holds a remarkable edge, hard to dull, rigid. Fire attribute. Pluvis Iron, flexible, disperses force, Water attribute.”
“But the attributes-”
“Counter each other, yes. But the characteristics of the metals upon fusion balance that out, allowing them to live in relative harmony. The rigid nature of the fire allows the Pluvis Iron to be less flexible, creating a more durable weapon overall. While the flexible nature of the Iron prevents the Ignil Rock from shattering as easily.”
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Ryke stared at the weapon, confused. It didn’t seem that much different to his sword in concept, so why did it work for the spear? When he asked Gaeldir that, he saw the excitement in the man’s eyes dim slightly, causing Rykr to look back down again in guilt. Nonetheless, the man spoke.
“Your combination of materials strengthened each other too much. Nature feeds off water, so it’s characteristic overwhelms the other material. Water and fire counteract, which weakened the two characteristics and allowed them to balance. Overall it created a better weapon.” Gaeldir grinned and Ryke agreed, seeing a total of five vertices in the spear. One in the blade and the rest in the haft.
Finally, the light in Ryke’s eyes shined as it all clicked together for him. It was all about balance. Having extremes within the weapon can destroy it. This goes for the attributes and the characteristics of the materials themselves. The attributes can be balanced by the characteristics and the characteristics can be balanced by the attributes. It was like enlightenment had struck him.
Gaeldir smiled as he watched Ryke scour through the materials for something he could use. A cup of tea suddenly appearing in his hands, he watched as Ryke began the process all over again. Mixing the metals in the furnace, removing the slag, pouring them into a mold. It was obvious the process had been carved into the boy’s bones, even if there was some hints of inexperience.
His heart ablaze, Ryke felt Fairrin watching over him as his eyes lit with a golden glow. Hammering the metal out and making sure its internal vital pathways were aligned, he slowly shaped the soft material into another longsword. The pathways shifted as the metal cooled, so Ryke had to pay attention to every minute detail before he quenched the blade.
Finally he brought the sword billet into the unknown oil. Steam and mist filled the room as a strange earthly scent followed. Gaeldir’s heart bled as he realised what materials were used, yet his real thoughts were betrayed by the small smile spreading across his face behind the teacup. Ryke pulled the blade from the oil, allowed it to cool fully and then wiped it down. The blade was a strange beige colour, thin streaks of a light blue flowing across it’s surface.
“Ventaes Iron and Teilus Corsteel.” Ryke detailed the metals without even being asked. “Wind and Earth respectively, the former carries the attributes of lightness and formlessness and a sharp edge. It allows force to dissipate similarly to Pluvis Iron. The Corsteel gives it weight and durability, giving the wind ‘form’ and allowing it to carry force!”
Gaeldir stared blankly at the sword billet from behind his teacup. He knew it could be done, he had done so before. He wasn’t even surprised that the boy had managed to make a vertex within the weapon, making it a Runic Armament. What really surprised him was that there were two. It was simply a matter of potential, but this boy just forged what could be a Second Exalt weapon. Not only that, if he learned from some Runesmiths who knew how to add vertices through the hilt, it might even have a third. He sighed and could only smile wryly
“You want to keep it?”
“.. Yes?”
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“This way, this way!” Cassia dragged Ryke off through an alleyway, practically ripping his arm off. The girl no longer used her full strength in leading him around all the time but she was clearly not taking no for an answer. He had walked into the city alone to ask her if she knew of any good thunder attribute materials when her eyes lit up and she, once again, kidnapped him.
She led him off to a small bazaar in the side streets of the Bastion. It seemed less busy than the Forum itself but the vital signatures Ryke saw were much brighter. Whereas an Ignitio Realm was a small blaze in his eyes, these people were wildfires. Something he saw only from the Stone Lotus Guard. Men and women in the Astrum Realm went stall to stall, buying and bartering. It opened his eyes when he saw the familiar River Styx emblem pass by, as well as a large blade emblem, a coiled snake emblem, and a midnight black drop of water.
“This is the Mystery Bazaar.” Cassia beamed as she stood mere inches away from his face. “I found it after following those Stygian folk after you guys left the first day. It’s the only place I could find anything thunder related..”
“Do you know anything about anyone else here? They could, quite literally, all kill me.”
“But they won’t!” Cassia practically shouted, pointing off to the sides. “The Praetorian knows this place could become a problem easily, so they station a few squads of the Stone Lotus Guard here. Unless a group of Animus Centurions showed up, nothing will happen.”
“You’re sure?” Ryke hesitated. Fairrin left him quite a lot of money and he really didn’t want to lose it all- especially after he started selling tools himself. “I can wait-”
“I’m sure!” Cassia dragged him into the crowd abruptly. People pushed and shoved against him as they made their way to whichever shop or stall they wanted and Ryke could only follow Cassia’s bright green head of hair. He assumed she was leading him where to go, even as he silently grumbled to himself.
Eventually she brought him to a stall off to the side. Empty and lifeless, the only person nearby was the owner. A slovenly young man who was practically falling asleep at the counter, Ryke really didn’t know what to say about all this. He hit the stall counter with a heavy thud and the boy shook awake after a few steps back.
Ryke was always rather tall and lanky but after he lit the Aurelius Flame, his features only grew. While he wasn’t hulking, his muscles were now defined; he grew a few inches in height. Not quite as lean as Sigmar but not massive like Gaeldir, the only thing that lessened his terrifying visage was the fact he was still clearly a teenager. Nonetheless, the young man opposite him still didn’t relax.
“Evening, S-sir.” Stuttering, the young shopkeeper gestured towards the various things kept in glass containers in front of him. “Are you looking for anything in p-particular?”