Irwin stared quietly at the beautiful patterns and lights, colors mingling to create pallettes he had never seen before.

"What is that black stuff?" he asked, curious but also slightly disgusted.

"It's the potential of the card," Ambraz said. "The more of it there is, the better you can make the card. This one only has a little, so beyond what you call Legendary is impossible for it, but it should be reforge-able up to that. But before you even think about it, you need to start at the beginning!"

Irwin nodded, wondering how something that looked like black goop could be the potential. Then pointed at one of the stars. "And those?"

"Believe it or not, those are holes," Ambraz said. "Apprentices always believe the shiny spots are the good stuff, but what you really have to do is plug them so the card's energy doesn't drain away. It's why cards left unattended eventually degrade over the years."

If they are holes, what is the light coming out of them? Irwin wondered. It looked more like something was leaking out from the other side instead of the cards' energy draining away.

"Don't worry about them too much. You are far from being able to plug them. But, if they were plugged the card would upgrade from rare to very rare," Ambraz said

Irwin thought that the Anvil seemed more than a little happy talking about these things.

"Now! Before you get all riled up about dark potential and siphoning holes, let's focus on what you can try. Look at the lines and the colors. Do you see how they are all fuzzy and smeared out in some places?"

"Yes?" Irwin asked, curious to learn more. The image looked nice, even with the smears and holes.

"Alright, now, gently strike the card again," Ambraz said.

Irwin took a deep breath, then hit the card. The image remained, but the shapes and lines wobbled and shifted slightly. It vaguely reminded him of the surface of a puddle of water just before something hit it, causing ripples. There was also a slight… resonation with his card. They almost seemed to vibrate, but it felt unharmonized. Almost painfully so.

"Alright, what do you feel?"

"Like something is humming but out of tune," Irwin said, trying to find the right words.

"Oh! You can feel all that already? That is outstanding! Must be the effects of your first card," Ambraz muttered, slightly confused.

Then he smacked his lips and grinned.

"Well, even better! Now, with the same power, continue to hit it for a while and let me know what you feel," Ambraz said. "Don't go too fast or too hard, and keep sensing your cards!"

Irwin was surprised at how hyped the Anvil sounded. Was it so odd that he could feel the resonance? Hadn't that been why he had started learning purifying metal in the first place? Suppressing his desire to ask, he began slowly hitting the card.

The image of leaves and the silvery wind began wobbling and distorting even more, but after a while, he noticed that the edges of the leaves were turning clearer, less fuzzy. At the same time, the humming and vibrating of his cards began increasing, though not equally. There was a noticeable difference between his Fire-sensitive Body card and the two uncommons. Where they hummed with a slight dissonance like a knife taped to an anvil and giving him the sense that something was wrong, his special card was almost shuddering in dismay each time he struck the card. It almost felt like his card was disgusted by something.

"Alright, stop for a bit," Ambraz said.

Irwin did as requested, a slight tingling sensation in his hand. His cards continued to resonate for a while longer, his Fire-sensitive Body card lingering for the longest.

"Alright, describe what you felt," Ambraz said.

Irwin did, trying to explain the feeling and the difference between his cards. When he finished, Ambraz was silent. His lips were a tight line, and he remained quiet for minutes. Then he exhaled so hard that Irwin felt like he was standing too close to one of the forge bellows.

"I can see you're not lying, but boyo… that is something else!" Ambraz exclaimed. "Then again, it only makes sense that my future Cardsmith is a special case! If the others hear… err… never mind," Ambraz muttered before his silvery lips curled up in a wide grin that showed his dull teeth.

"What oth-" Irwin began, curious.

"Now then, let's figure out if it's because of your card or because of something else!" the Anvil boomed, drowning him out.

"Use your Coperion Body card and then continue striking the card some more. Start soft, and slowly proceed harder. Listen to the card resonating with your own, and try to time the strikes in such a way that the resonations strengthen. Try not to interrupt the flow, and as soon as you hear something, stop!"

Hear something?

Irwin hesitated, wanting to ask Ambraz what was going on. From what he had said, Irwin guessed it was weird that he could sense the cards resonating.

"Come on, Orwin, start!" Ambraz snapped.

Irwin sighed and focused on his card triggering the skill. His body turned solid and heavy, and the texture of the card and the anvil below his fist changed. Smooth and soft, almost like velvet. There was also something thudding inside, almost like a-

Heartbeat?

Irwin slowly moved his other hand to Ambraz's surface to try and feel better when the Anvil made a clacking sound.

"Don't get distracted! Did you forget you need to save Daubutim?"

Hearing his friend's name, Irwin jolted and pulled his hand back. The Anvil was right. He needed to get this done as fast as he could! If he had some innate ability, or his card was helping so that he could do it faster, all for the better!

I'll just ask him later, he thought, thugging the questions away.

Now fully focused, he struck down on the card, and the image almost warped as the lines turned fuzzy and straight, fuzzy and straight. At the same time, a deep pain came from his cards, most noticeably from his special one, as they resonated so loudly that he was afraid they would shatter.

"What? Did you hear something already?" Ambraz whispered in disbelief.

"No. It hurt," Irwin said, feeling the resonating and vibrating slowly slow to more manageable levels.

"Ah. That. Yes, well… get used to it! Many things dealing with cards cause pain. Just clench your teeth or something," Ambraz said.

Irwin shook his head, not interested in being blown off that fast again. "It felt like my cards were about to shatter. Can that happen?"

"What? Of course not. The worst thing is that you fall unconscious due to a soul-shard overload! Now continue, and just start slowly and carefully."

Soul-shard overload? Irwin thought.

"And that is?"

"Something you don't have to worry about if you do as I say," Ambraz said.

Irwin hesitated, licked his lips, then brought his hand down with far less power this time.

This time the wobbling of the card's image was far less, as was the resonance. It was still slightly uncomfortable, but he could deal with it. Deciding this was hard enough, he continued slowly hitting the card, trying to keep the resonations as even as he could.

He quickly found it was far more complex than it sounded.

When he hit the card, the resonations didn't start at the same strength, even when he was sure he had hit the card just as hard or soft as the time before. Either that, or he needed way more finesse.

With the chaotic starts, he sometimes full-out missed the mark. Each time that happened, the jarring sensation that followed gave him a sense of wrongness like the first time. A headache was slowly forming, and he might have stopped to complain or ask some more questions if not for what happened when he did time it exactly right.

The sense of rightness that came with it, a harmony between him, his card, and the card he was hitting that ran through him, was exquisite. His special card almost seemed to humm pleasantly at those few times.

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He continued for almost ten minutes, only slowly getting better when a dull whine seemed to come from his hand. He flinched and looked at the card. The image was constantly moving and flowing around, and he thought he saw thin lines crack across it.

"I hear something," he whispered.

"Alright then! Perfect! What does it sound like? A gong? A bell, or-"

"As if something is scratching across metal," Irwin said, grimacing as the soft sound continued, increasing in pitch and speed.

"Ah. Well… that's too bad," Ambraz said. "Guess we need another card then."

"What?" Irwin started at the card below his hand in dismay. "Why?"

"The price of learning is what it is! You need to learn how to time your hits better, and the only way to do that is to practice! That's why you need to learn metal purifying," Ambraz muttered. "Right, toss that thing in my mouth before it explodes and takes off your arm."

What?

Irwin jolted back, jerking his arm from the card, which was now screeching and vibrating on the table.

"Hurry!"

Irwin quickly grabbed the card, struggling to keep a grip on the shaking and shuddering card. With a hurried flick, he tossed it in Ambraz wide open maw. Just as the lips closed, cracks appeared on the card, and it lit up. It was quiet for an ominous moment. Then there was a dull, muted thud.

Ambraz grunted, and a trickle of smoke came from between his lips.

"Are you alright?" Irwin asked, suddenly worried he'd broken the anvil.

"Bah. Shattered cards still taste as vile as ever," Ambaz said.

There was a soft glow then he shrunk to his tiny shape and hovered towards Irwin's pocket.

"Well, that's about all we can do for today!"

"Wait, can't you tell me some more about the resonance? What are those blotches, and what did you mean with the sounds?" Irwin said as he tried to stop the Anvil from hiding in his pocket. "Also, who are these others you keep mentioning?"

"Ugh, so many questions. No. Not telling, and you would have succeeded if it had made a sound like a bell or a gong. Lastly, you are too young and weak to know about anything more. Now, I need to digest these broken soul shards. Don't bother me for a while," Ambraz muttered, shrinking again, flitting around his hand before drilling into his pocket.

Irwin stared stupidly at his pocket, then his Coperion Body skill faded, and he felt the coldness of the room seeping into his bones. After debating what to do for a few moments, he sighed, added some more of the rapidly dwindling wood on the fireplace, undressed, and climbed into bed.

Lying on his back below the soft blankets, he stared up at the stone ceiling, absently noting some cobwebs.

Hitting the card had felt… good, especially when he'd managed to get his own cards to resonate exactly right. Wait, were they really resonating? That would be weird, right? Perhaps it was that they helped him sense the resonation of the card he had been hitting.

Destroyed even, he corrected himself.

He could barely believe that he was responsible for destroying a card. His mother would never believe him if he told her.

As more questions bubbled up in his mind, he wished Ambraz could have told him instead of waving him off. Then one that had simmered in the background for a while bubbled up.

How am I even going to get more cards without something to trade for them?

Then he blinked and almost got up as he realized something. He was an idiot! He should have let Ambraz upgrade the card he'd just destroyed to uncommon and trade that.

Perhaps I can do that for the arrow card Daubutim has, he thought.

The thought got him thinking about his noble friend, which in turn made him wonder how Greldo was doing, his thought spiral eventually ending with his mum and brother.

When sleep finally came, it was deep and filled with dark dreams.

--

Another four days flew by like the increasingly erratic winter winds that brought more snow. It had started piling up against walls and houses, making everything a pristine, beautiful white. Sadly, Irwin couldn't enjoy it, because it was also getting ever colder.

Daubutim still hadn't returned but had sent a message through one of the rangers to tell him he was fine and had already helped close two portals. When Irwin had reacted shocked, the ranger had frowned and shrugged, telling him Daubutim had said to not worry, it was pretty easy.

Irwin still didn't know what that was supposed to mean, as none of the portals they had gone through so far had been even remotely easy.

Early morning of the fifth day, he was running through the streets, his footsteps causing loud thuds. He was ignoring the occasional surprise and curious glance. He was in full Coparion Body mode, as he had been the previous four days. It seemed to insulate him from the cold, but sadly it lasted too short to get to Trimdir without running. Even then, he hadn't yet made it all the way.

Which was why he was focused on every corner, sprinting forward and dodging people who were hauling wood around.

He was counting off the minutes in his head, and with over ten seconds remaining, he couldn't hold back the grin.

"I'll make it! I'll actually make it today," he gasped as he forced his heavy body forward.

The muscles in his legs and upper body were complaining, not yet recovered from the previous day's sprint.

Rounding the last corner beyond which lay the square where Trimdir's was, a large shape seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Look out!" he shouted, trying in vain to stop.

He got a flash of a guard in full winter plate before he slammed into him.

It felt like he'd rammed into something nearly immovable that clanked as he hit it. The figure grunted and took one step back while Irwin bounced a few feet back, barely remaining on his feet. Breathing raggedly, he stared at the guard.

"Yilda take you kid! What are you made of?" a dull, muted shout came from the hooded, helmeted head. It sounded more surprised than angry.

Irwin shook himself, looking at the guard when he realized he'd stopped counting. His eyes widened.

"Oh no! I'm almost out of-"

His voice changed slightly as his Coperion Body reverted back to normal. Instantly, the intense cold of his surroundings wrapped around him like a deadly vice of ice.

"What the- Some active full-body skill?" the guard muttered, sounding even more amazed now.

"So-rr y," Irwin managed to say as he tried to walk around the man.

He had to get inside quickly. Though Coperion Body made him able to be out in the cold for ten minutes when it stopped, the cold seemed to be twice as bad for a short while.

"Not so fast! You actually shoved me back, which only a few people in this place can do! Why aren't you out there with the guards? And don't lie, because I know each of them by face!" the man said, stepping into his path.

Irwin began shivering harder, and knowing he had no other choice, he stepped back and summoned his flame.

"Hey now! What are you doing!" the guard snapped, also taking a step back and raising his hands in an odd gesture. As he did, something about him seemed familiar.

Irwin tried to speak, but the cold air seemed to take his breath away, and he gasped.

"What? What is wrong with you?" the guard shouted, his voice now an angry, confused and worried rumble as he lowered his hands again.

"I- I'm co- cold," Irwin stuttered, increasing the heat from the flame to the hottest he could. His whole body began shaking.

"Cold? Of course it's cold! Dammit, what kind of crap is this? No, never mind that. Where were you going?" the man grunted.

"Trimdir," Irwin managed.

"Alright, don't make a weird move with that flame," the man grunted as he stepped closer, and before Irwin knew it, a strong arm wrapped around his upper body, and he was lifted off his feet.

"Unbelievable, now I have to carry some silly kid to Trimdir! Of all the things..." the guard grunted.

I could have made it if you hadn't blocked me, he thought.

Now that he had a moment to think, he was slightly angry at the whole situation.

"Hold on," the guard grunted.

Before Irwin could react, the world around him blurred as the guard ran forward at a speed he couldn't believe. Within two seconds, they flashed across the square, then Irwin felt himself drop to his feet.

He stupidly stared back at the trail of snow that was drifting down then. How can anyone be that fast? he thought, trying to imagine a card doing that.

Behind him, the door was yanked open, and he was pushed through. The heat of the forges wrapped around him like a warm, comforting blanket. He took a few shuddering steps deeper inside, taking deep breaths of warm air and unsummoning his flame.

"Almost made it today, Orwin?" one of the smiths he didn't know the name of asked, looking up at him with a wide grin. Then his eyes widened as the guard followed after.

"Basil!" he gasped. His mouth fell open while his hammer stopped midswing as if the smith had frozen.

Irwin agreed with the sentiment. He spun on his heel, or tried to, staggering from the movement. The guard, no Basil, stood behind him, surveying the smithy. Now that Irwin took a closer look, he recognized him. How had he missed the man's signature chestplate with dark blue edges? None of the other guards had that!

"Yes, hi," Basil said as he slammed the door shut and looked around and over the heads of the smiths.

All of them had stopped working and moved closer, looking awestruck as they stared at Degonda's main defender.

"Trimdir, where are you, you old demon!" the man boomed, his voice silencing any sound that might have lingered.

There was a shuffle and stomping, then the door of Trimdir's office was flung open, and the bald man strode out with a wide grin.

"Basil, what brings you here, you slow-ass!"

If there had been silence before, a pin could have been heard dropping now as Irwin and the smiths gaped at Trimdir. Everyone seemed to hold their breath. Basil was the second in command and the strongest carded in the city! Had Trimdir actually just called him a slow-ass?

Basil seemed completely unperturbed, laughing uproariously as he stomped towards the smith. "Toymaker! How have you been?" As he moved, he removed his helmet, revealing his short, brown hair.

They clasped each other's hands while Irwin saw the surrounding smiths suddenly stare at Trimdir in shock.

Toymaker?

Irwin wondered if that was Basil's form of a jab at being called out or a title. The smiths around him began whispering, all but Olger, who sighed, rubbing his neck. So, they knew what Toymaker meant? He'd have to ask Talia later!

"What brings you here? Don't tell me you came to personally check if the weaponry is done?"

"Hah! No, I was on my way to Yogwirt to see if I could rouse him from his drunken stupor. "

Irwin watched the two men silently, noting that Trimdir's face had turned ugly at the mention of Yogwirt.

Who is that?

"Well, I don't expect much from it, but I wish you luck," Trimdir said.

"Thanks, but while I'm here- who's the kid? He actually made me take a step back when he ran into me!" Basil said, turning and pointing at Irwin.

What he couldn't see, but Irwin could, was that Trimdir's smile completely faded, and for a moment, a worried look flashed over his face.

"That's Orwin. He is going to be the one purifying most of the first-grade iron soon," Trimdir said.

I am? Irwin thought, his eyes widening.

He could pretty reliably purify metal now, but it was still a difficult and slow process for him. Most of it? That would be impossible right now. He might be able to get a tenth done if he only purified, and the quality would be worse than what Trimdir could make.

"He is?" Basil echoed dumbly, his bushy eyebrows raising higher. "Well… could you-"

"No," Trimdir said, shaking his head. "I can't let you take him on one of your suicide missions."

Basil frowned, and the silence that had slowly been filled with whispers returned in force. A palpable tension began brewing as Basil's mood seemed to shift more.

"But-" he said.

"No. Now let's continue this conversation in my office, as I know you aren't going to understand until I explain it in full," Trimdir said, seeming uncaring about the other's frown or the tension in the room.

Basil's frown deepened, and he examined Irwin, his pale gray eyes gleaming. Irwin didn't dare move. He felt like he was being stared at by a predator ready to strike. The pressure was something he'd not felt since the Bablibon, though it wasn't as filled with hate as that one had been.

After what felt like forever but couldn't have been more than a few seconds, Basil sniffed and followed Trimdir into his office.

As the door closed, Irwin let out a relieved sigh.