What burns hotter than magma? The answer, when it finally hits me, is obvious: reagent does, especially incandesite and hytrigite. It burns far hotter—every initiate knows this. When its magic is released to bind rune and metal together and imbue both with power, the heat reaches immeasurable levels—yet only for a fraction of a fraction of a tiny fraction of a second.
Is it possible to prolong this heat somehow? Make the incandesite burn a little cooler, for a lot longer? Perhaps by mixing with some other material—but what material?
I have no idea. I will have to research, yet all my books are of runes, not about metalworking. Besides, I have no materials apart from my reagents and metals.
It truly seems as if I have come to a dead end. I suppose I could request a book on furnaces from one of the runeknights, but those who talk to me are usually from the lower degrees. They are unlikely to have the knowledge I seek. And Halax will tell me nothing of the true metal.
Yet, what I ask is not necessarily about the true metal, is it? It is just a question of furnaces and fuel. Of engineering.
“Honored runeknight Halax,” I say. “This magma furnace is hot, but I must make it hotter.”
“Is that so?”
“It is so. I must make it five-fold hotter, at least.”
“I see.”
“Is your furnace much hotter than this one?”
“It is,” he admits.
“Does it use magma to bring heat?”
“It does not.”
"Then it must use reagent. That's the only thing that burns hotter."
"Nothing burns."
This surprises me. "What do you mean? There is no fuel?"
“Indeed.”
“None at all? How?”
“That is a secret I am not going to divulge, Zathar Runeforger. I do not tell all the secrets of my crafts.”
“Our Runethane—”
“Our Runethane says we must help you, yes, but I believe he will respect my unwillingness to give over all my secrets to you.”
“Very well.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes. I have the answer I seek. It was obvious, wasn't it?”
“It should be, though execution might be more difficult than you predict.”
Reagents was wrong. The answer, the obvious answer, is to use runes. If runes can triumph over magma when it comes to protecting from heat, why can it not triumph over magma in another way—the degree of heat generated? Many runeknights use flaming blades, usually to help them slay certain monsters whose wounds must be cauterized, such as trolls, or great amphibious beasts. I can forge something that will create a similar effect.
I decide to use titanium. I have plenty of it, and I also do not need the melt-resistant property of tungsten, for my craft will not actually touch the metal I seek to forge, but will instead project heat.
First, the design: I throw myself into my papers. I draw a dozen preliminary sketches, at first trying to imagine the actual shape of the thing, then as I refine my ideas, the exact positioning of the various heat-inductors. I calculate the kind of runic flow I will need—the runic flow, in concert with the device's geometry, will determine exactly where the heat will be concentrated.
The more I design and calculate, the more daunting the task becomes. It is no wonder more dwarves do not make their own furnaces from runes and metal—not only is this craft going to cost me a great amount of titanium, gold and platinum, and incandesite, but it is going to require me to push my technical skills very far also.
Much easier to use coal, wood, or magma, which can get metal hot enough for nearly every purpose anyhow.
As I lie on my bed after several hard short-hours of drafting poems, a strange thought comes upon me: how much would one of the dwarves of Heldfast Hill pay for such a device as this? A great deal, I would imagine. Probably anything to do with true metal goes for a great deal of gold and gems, in that particular miniature kingdom. The secret itself might even be sold to those with the money. Maybe even those with no knowledge of crafting purchase it, just so they can say they know.
My thoughts turn dark. Once I finish creating this furnace, will its use be given over to other senior runeknights? The cable I made has been, after all, and my runes also—my runes most of all.
The idea is vile, violating. This will be my craft! Mine! And yet, I could lose control over it. Vanerak will get his bloody, grubby hands on it, as he has done my runes, and hopes to do my power. All my crafts—they are his, bent for his purposes. Even if I say to myself that they are for Hayhek and the other suffering soldiers, they are soldiers of Vanerak, who sweat and die for him.
A runeknight fights on his own terms!
I am no runeknight—I have come to this conclusion before. I am a manufacturer, a metal and runecrafter—I have come to this conclusion before also. But this time I take the logic further: I am a crafter for Vanerak.
All I do is forge my crafts and, ultimately, I forge them for Vanerak.
This thought runs around and around in my mind like a looping river. My writing-stick slows. My mind slows. And when I finally return to the forge, to begin creating the runic furnace that will unlock so much power for me, my hammer beats slow and inaccurate.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
A malaise has taken me. This power of true metal I am seeking—I am seeking it for Vanerak, the liar, the torturer.
When will I ever be free of this place? I am in a pit with no exit and sides as smooth as black glass; I will never be free.
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Less than a long-hour after Goluhr's disappearance, blood-signed letters begin to be found throughout Vanerak's realm: in dark corridors, nailed to the sides of storage crates, slipped under the doors of various rooms and barracks, and even, most ingeniously, folded into small leather pouches and placed into ale mugs. This is not the work of just five—there are many more who help, more who have reason to hate Vanerak and his senior commanders.
Each letter reads the same:
Goluhr Honored Runeknight of Second Degree has declared to us, several friends of truth and nobility and justice in dealings with others that, as many suspect, the so-called demon hinted at the truth, and that the actual happenings upon the surface were not as you have been told by the liar Runethane Vanerak, but in fact occurred as follows:
Liar Vanerak and nine of his runeknights, including his most senior commanders Nazak, Halax, and Helzar, did not slay the black dragon, as he falsely told us all. They entered the cavern when the black dragon was already near to its death, and thereupon undertook several vile actions.
They slew near to a dozen injured members of the true dragon-slaying party, so their subsequent lies would not be contested. They then bound five unconscious members of the true dragon-slaying party, as tokens with which to threaten the Second Runeforger. They watched as the renowned Xomhyrk Dragonslayer rattled out his final breath, while they still held healing chains to spare. Only after these acts did they undertake the capture of the Second Runeforger.
We will make clear that we do not deny that the traitor should have been captured! He committed a terrible crime against us all. We do not deny this, those who suffered from the black dragon's savagery! Yet all true, noble runeknights should consider the liar Vanerak's falsehoods to be a crime against us all also.
And he continues to commit crimes against us! What are these runes we are seeking? Why have so many died for runes we cannot use? Even with the Second Runeforger's runes, the demons are overwhelming us once more. Why are reinforcements not called from other realms? Are we truly doing the Runeking's bidding? Is he even aware that we have the Second Runeforger with us? It is likely he is not aware; why?
What is the nature of the so-called demons, who undertake but defensive actions, and not unjustly claim that is we who intrude on their territory? Does the liar Vanerak know? Why does he not divulge even the merest hints of truth?
It is time for an end to the lies! And for an end to our ill-treatment. Runeknights are not miners, and yet several have been made to mine as punishment. And in what kind of realm are the poems of juniors copied by their seniors? In what kind of realm can guilds not be established freely, and broken from freely? Why are resources denied or given at whim regardless of purchasing power?
In what kind of realm is the torture of the fellow subjects of our great Runeking Ulrike permitted, as has happened on several occasions? And what kind of a Runethane slaughters a guild to the last runeknight—as our Runethane did, before he even entered the black dragon's lair? This could well be the greatest crime of all, though sadly honored runeknight Goluhr was unable to elaborate much on this particular crime; it was the final one he admitted to.
Enough is enough. You have read the truth, and now it is time to take action. Resist! Rebel! And most of all, convey this message to Runeking Ulrike! He, the ruler of the great and noble Allabrast city, and of more than seventy tributing realms, will not abide by the crimes being committed here.
Runeking Ulrike, save us from tyranny! We beseech you; break from your forging and restore justice to this realm, be it only a minor part of your grand domains! Destroy the criminals!
Runethane Vanerak is not worthy of the title. To all those who respect truth and what is right and noble: he must be deposed!
Signed in blood by honored runeknight Goluhr. Examine the below fragment of armor if you doubt that it is indeed his blood. It emanates a power not attainable by lesser runeknights.
“The fragments are indeed from Goluhr's armor,” Nazak spits. “I recognize the runes well. A most vile crime has taken place, my Runethane, and the traitors make clear their intention to commit more.”
“It might be wise to take immediate action,” says Halax. “Decisive action. Such a murder must not go unpunished.”
“The punishment must be harsh,” rasps Helzar. “Harsh indeed.”
They are sitting in one of Runethane Vanerak's personal chambers. It has gone disused for a long time; dust has settled thickly on the table, disturbed only around the blood-signed letter. The Runethane himself is seated directly in front of that letter. None of his commanders can tell his expression through his mirror-mask: if he is focused on the words or not, if rage shows on his face, or something else.
“My Runethane, we must crush this at the root,” says Nazak. “Such a crime—this is a threat to our realm. A far worse one than the demons pose.”
“Then take appropriate measures,” says Runethane Vanerak. “I have tasked you three with running the affairs of my realm while I am busy with my craft, have I not?”
“You have, my Runethane, but this kind of threat, in my opinion, requires a direct response from you. You must show them personally what kind of a fate meets traitors.”
“Not a mere prison cell,” Helzar rasps. “Our soft treatment of Zathar has dented us on the backswing.”
“You speak as if half the realm has turned against me,” Runethane Vanerak says slowly. “This is a singular crime.”
“Goluhr was a second degree, and a fierce warrior,” says Nazak. “You yourself, great Runethane, selected him for the surface expedition. To have killed him must have required great force.”
“That is not so. You put too much stake in degrees and numbers, Nazak. A strong fourth can defeat a second, if he takes the second unawares. Even enough tenths, if they had the courage and coordination, could bury one under the weight of their armored bodies—and even an unruned blade, inserted through the visor, can be lethal. There is a reason that even the most powerful Runethanes do not wade into battle without a bodyguard.”
“While this is true, wise Runethane,” says Halax, “the traitors do show evidence of considerable organization. They are very cunning also, having distributed the letters widely while remaining unseen. In my most humble opinion, it would not do to underestimate them.”
“And what has the effect of these letters been? Has open rebellion been declared? Have your forges been sabotaged?”
“It is only a matter of time, if we do not strike quickly!” says Nazak.
“Then strike. You are first degrees. You are experienced leaders also. I trust you to manage this.”
"And if one of these letters should, despite our efforts, make its way to Runeking Ulrike?"
"Allabrast is a long way from here. Even if one does, it will take a while. And it does not matter that we have Zathar; Runeking Ulrike will likely be pleased that we are keeping him safe."
"And of our deception regarding the dragon?"
"The letter contains only lies, as far as the wider world is concerned. If pressed, we will give our version of the truth. There is no one to dispute it but Zathar and two others, none of whom are willing to betray me. Do you understand?"
The three look at each other. A hint of steel has come into their Runethane's tone; he is clearly impatient to return to his forging, and they know not to argue with him further.
“Yes, my Runethane,” they chorus.
“Good.” He is silent for a few seconds, does not yet dismiss them. “However, I will give one specific order regarding this matter. No runeknight, bar you three and your most trusted, is to be permitted near Zathar's chamber or forge. If he was to read one of these letters, or hear of its contents, the distress could have a very deleterious effect on his runeforging. He must never be allowed even to know of its existence. Is this clear to you?”
“Yes, my Runethane.”