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“Are… you alright?”
Minutes have passed inside the domain of fire and ice, and what was once a violent torrent that seemed like it would shred Julian into pieces was now incredibly… tranquil.
The chill felt softer now, the frostfire dancing around the Avatar of Searadyn’s silhouette completely calm as her knees still touched the azure floor. Very soon, however, a deep breath escaped the avatar’s lips as she finally stood up.
She took a step back, and there, Julian could feel the glint of sorrow beneath the dancing flames.
“Are… you alright?” Julian repeated.
“Tell me, my new master…” The Avatar of Searadyn murmured; the wrath in her voice, extinguished along with any of the violence she previously held against him, “Do you know what it’s like to be passed down…?”
“No.” Julian answered without any hesitation, “But I do know what it feels to be treated like a child who doesn’t know how to do anything.”
“Then I suppose, in a way, our souls do not differ.” A hint of a smile crawled on the spirit’s face, fragile… but persisting, “I too, have been treated as nothing but a… tool.”
“But… aren’t you supposed to be a powerful spirit?” Julian replied, observing his arms that were previously completely charred by her frostfire.
“Powerful…” A faint, almost bitter chuckle slipped from the avatar’s lips. Her flames, flickering as she looked at her domain, “...And yet I have been trapped here for ages, my autonomy relying on foolish mortals—mortals who do not even realize what they are holding.”
“Hm.” Julian continued to listen, his eyes reflecting the sorrow of her words.
“Time and time again, they’ve sought me—great blacksmiths, renowned and popular—all of them thinking they could master me.” She paused, her flickering eyes narrowing as she looked at Julian, “They made promises, each one swearing they would be able to create the most fantastic things… and yet—”
Her flames suddenly flared, no longer violent but just… disappointed. It cast a very small shadow behind Julian, a trace amongst the endless blue.
“—each one of them failed… and once they knew they lacked the strength to wield me, they were quick to abandon, never to try again. Those proud blacksmiths, supposedly considering themselves to be greater than their peers… none ever proved worthy of my flame.”
Julian remained quiet, sensing the dismay of her words, but then he spoke, simply, “I was right then, you were lonely.”
The Avatar’s flames dimmed once more as if the weight of his words doused the remaining wrath within her flames. She turned her gaze away from him, her voice now a whisper compared to before, “A long time… for an eternity now, I have been lonely. Until now.”
The Avatar of Searadyn met with Julian’s eyes again, and he responded with a smile.
“I am truly sorry that you have to serve someone like me.” Julian whispered, “You could leave if you want to, you do not have to force yourself because of the Master of Shadows.”
“No!” The Avatar of Searadyn stepped forward, placing her hand on Julian’s bare chest—there was no sizzle at all, and no pain, however, there was only a cold, but comfortable warmth. It was hard for Julian to describe what it was… but it felt nice.
There was no longer any anger in her touch.
“For one to be acknowledged by the Master of Shadows…” She sighed, “...That would mean that I am the one unworthy of you. And so, if you will have me, Julian Winters, then I offer my power to you—and if need be, my life. Let this be what binds me to you, my covenant.”
“...Okay.” Julian hummed as he gently held the avatar’s hand, “I do not know what I could offer you, but let me be the person who will never abandon you.”
“That…” For a long moment, the Avatar of Searadyn stared at him, her flames flickering with a new softness. Then, she tilted her head, the hint of a smile flickering on her spectral face,
“...I would very much like that. From this moment on, I am with you. Use me, Julian Winters—and use me well.”
With that, the blue light of the realm intensified, growing violently as the Avatar’s form dissolved into shimmering embers that wrapped around his hand, filling him with an intense, chilling warmth.
And as his vision blurred, he heard her voice one last time, a whisper in the icy light.
“You have my loyalty, Julian Winters. May we forge something the world has never seen.”
Julian closed his eyes from the intense light, and as he opened them once again, the familiar dim glow of the forge welcomed him back. The guild felt warm, almost causing him to sweat—a reminder that everything that happened inside his mind was real.
He then took a breath to collect himself, feeling something new within him—a chill that hummed in his veins, powerful but quiet… tranquil.
“Julian…?” Juliet’s voice was the first to break his stupor. She stepped forward, a smile crawling on her face as she carefully patted Julian’s shoulders—checking to see if she would be burnt. And when she didn’t, she immediately lunged toward him and gave him a hug, “You’re back!”
“Yk…yes…” Julian gritted his teeth from the pressure of Juliet’s grip. Fortunately for him, Juliet noticed how much he was suffocating and quickly let go of him.
“Welcome back, Sword Junkie.” Cyrus also tapped Julian’s chest, “You had us worried there for a bit.”
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Cyrus would have been hyping the Chat right about now, but he opted not to do so because he was a little wary of the old guild master—after all, with the prejudice he had been showing from the start against Julian not having the [Blacksmith] class… he might probably a follower of the Order of Artemia. He needed to be careful.
“You…” And while he and Juliet were celebrating Julian’s return, the old guild master looked incredibly astonished. Confused, but very much astonished.
His eyes were wide, his gaze fixed on Julian with a mix of shock and apprehension.
“What… happened in there?” He asked, the tremble in his voice obvious for everyone to hear.
“The spirit and I talked.” Julian raised his left arm as he finally realized the shift in weight on it. And everyone glanced at the back of his hand, all of them noticing for the first time a faint marking—a delicate, symbol inked along his skin.
It was snow, half veiled by fire.
image [https://i.imgur.com/VfKCIbU.png]
“Huh…” He held up his hand in front of his face, and with a snap of his fingers and a simple thought, a wisp of blue flame sparked to life in his palm, hovering cold and serene.
“Julian…” Juliet gasped, the excitement in her breath barely containable, “So, you did it. You actually tamed the spirit…? This is… wow.”
“H…how!?” The guild master took a step back upon seeing the blue flame dancing above Julian’s palm, “How… how did you manage to control it without a [Blacksmith] class? When… when no one else could… This is… unheard of. What… And without mana…?”
“No.” Cyrus crossed his arms, his eyes also staring at the blue flame, “Spirits don’t require mana for control, old baldie. They draw power from the essence of Artemia itself.”
The guild master stared at Cyrus for a few seconds, before taking a deep breath and turning back to Julian with a solemn expression laced with regret and shame.
“Forgive me… I judged you unfairly, young man—no, Master Julian.” The guild master lowered his head, “My eyes, would seem, have grown too old to recognize greatness, no. Perhaps I knew from the start when you noticed the temperament of the flames, I just refused to admit to myself that someone so young would be… better.”
“It’s alright.” Julian waved off the apology with a simple shrug. “Would you mind?”
He then walked toward the forge, the flames hovering on his hand flickered along with him. His eyes reflected the weak blue flames in them, and with a breath, he reached his hand out… letting the flames on his hand connect and dance with the weak sparkle within the forge.
And in an instant, the forge came to life. The walls were instantly bathed by the cold, blue glow—the roar of the flames, restoring the beating heart of the smithy.
“Oh…” Juliet whispered, a cloud of vapor escaping her lips from the sudden chill. “It feels strange... like standing in a blizzard but warmed by a bonfire at the same time.”
“Like having a fever.” Cyrus nodded, eyes wide with wonder as he felt the comfortable, almost soothing ache settle over his skin.
“T… this… this is…” The guild master, meanwhile, stood back, watching in awe as the once-dormant forge blazed to life under Julian’s control. His eyes, barely visible beneath his sagging brows, glistened, and it seemed as though tears might spill at any moment.
“Hm.” Julian also seemed satisfied with this, softly humming before looking back at the guild master. “Would it be alright if I borrowed your forge?”
“Borrow it?” The guild master blinked. And soon, a slow, almost reverent smile crawled onto his face—a smile that did not last long at all, as it was replaced by burst of laughter, “After what you’ve done, you are welcome to do anything you want here, Master Julian! You’ve… you’ve given this guild a… a second chance. I will even name this guild after you!”
“That’s… not necessary.” Julian chuckled, raising both of his palms as the old guild master leaned close to him, “I just want to borrow the smithy to forge something.”
“Then please.” The guild master lowered his head in respect, “Show me the skill of one who has tamed a flame spirit.”
Julian rolled his wrists and was about to prepare himself—but it suddenly dawned on him.
“...Will normal steel even be—”
“I just have what you need.” The guild master, however, raised a hand before Julian could even express his problems, “Wait.”
The guild master walked to a small alcove, reaching beneath a dusty cloth, and with a grunt, he dragged a massive crystal into the open. The crystal was even large than Julian’s torso in diameter, but even then, it almost looked invisible—if it wasn’t for the blue light refracting around it, Juliet and Cyrus might not even know the guild master was holding something.
“This is Glacivyr metal.” The old man placed the crystal, no, the metal on the nearby bench, causing almost the entire smithy to shake, “It was brought here along with the enchanted flame—it is a rare metal, and only under the chilling heat of the frostfire is it controlled.”
“It’s not a crystal?” Juliet leaned closer to look at it, careful not to actually lose it from his sight despite its size.
“No.” The guild master took a deep breath, his soft voice laced with regret, “It is a metal endemic to the lands of the Eldazen. We bought it for almost half the price of the enchanted flame—and yet we could not even harness both…
…half of it is yours now, Master Julian. Consider it my gift for bringing this place back to life.”
“Oh…” Julian hovered his hands above the clear metal, feeling its incredibly smooth surface on his fingers, “...It feels heavy.”
“It is.” The guild master gave a small smile… and then just heaved the entire sphere into the flames of the forge. The flames of Searadyn instantly veiled the clear metal; its surface shimmering and transforming, softening under the flames.
“It’s… melting?” Juliet muttered, slightly worried that they might lose such a precious metal.
“Not quite melting,” the guild master explained, his eyes never leaving the sphere. “It’s getting ready.”
And soon, the glacivyr became almost gelatinous in appearance and slowly began dancing along with the flames, jiggling.
“Now, girl! Remove it!”
“H…huh?” Juliet’s eyes widened as the guild master handed her a large pair of tongs. Her confusion only lasted a split second, though, and with a firm grip, she moved swiftly to pull the Glacivyr from the forge. She expected it to squish under pressure, given its molten appearance, but it held firm—still incredibly solid, perhaps even the hardest metal she’d ever worked with.
And it was heavy. Very heavy.
“Put it back on the bench, girl!” the guild master shouted.
“Alright, alright!” Juliet grunted as she hefted it back to the workbench. “And wait, why am I even following–”
And before Juliet could finish her words, the guild master suddenly drew out a long katana out of nowhere. And without even a word, the old man swung his blade… and cut the glacivyr cleanly in half before turning to Julian.
“Now, for your half.” He whispered, “What are you planning to make so I can make it to the size you need?”
“Hm.” It was clear that Julian heard the guild master since he glanced at him, but he didn’t answer at all. Instead, his gaze was fixed on his half of the Glacivyr metal, his fingers slowly unclenching from the hammer he had actually already instinctively grabbed from one of the workbenches.
There was a quiet intensity in his eyes, and soon, for some reason, he let go of the hammer and just placed it back on the bench.
“Julian, what… what are you doing?” Juliet’s eyes widened as she watched him extend his bare hands toward the Glacivyr.
He didn’t reach out for any other tools; instead, he simply rested his hand on the surface of the metal, closing his eyes as his breaths became extremely calm.
And with a subtle hum escaping his lips, frostfire surged from his hands.
“Wait…” The guild master, eyes wide with disbelief, took an instinctive step back to give Julian more space, “Master Julian… are you really about to—”
“She told me to use her well,” Julian murmured, almost as if speaking to the flames dancing across his palm, “...and I intend to do just that.”
“No… no way…” Cyrus sucked in a breath as he realized what Julian was about to do,
“...Is he about to forge that thing using only the spirit of the flame?”
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