Clayton stared at the blades and swords before him.
Sighing, he took a sizeable piece of dark-looking whetstone under the table. Beginning to slowly sharpen the thicker-looking blade, he seemed in a balanced state. It had a perfect curvature and looked like it could sweep a human in half.
Allan watched from above and wrote into his spy diary.
“So, a sharpening order? That sounds a little simple. Dark whetstone. It grinds away the toughest metals and eats the remaining dust left behind. Father uses it all the time.”
Into Allan’s view came a normal routine, where his father sharpened the blade. As if doing it thousands of times, doing no mistakes whatsoever. He grabbed the blade, his back faced the furnace which emitted light, and glanced at it at an angle. Layers and waves of 3 colored sheens of silver and metallic color entered his eyes. Very uneven, with less than a centimeter wide.
Allan, through the binoculars, was shocked by what he saw.
“T-that’s new! I have never seen his blades do this before.” He quickly turned pages to find the same-looking blade. And he was right. According to records and sketches, he made this blade about four years ago. He did not see its creation. He knew that keeping these records was worth it.
“This blade is from 3 different metals. The handle is normal without problems. But why, after sharpening it, do these waves appear?” Allan wondered.
A difficult answer was unfortunately not met with an answer.
Clayton opened the mixture bottle from the drawer and by hand dropped a few drops into the edges. Then took a piece of cloth and wiped it around the surface. Layered waves were no longer visible.
“Concealing his technique by making it disappear? But why?” Allan thought, as he took note of the rest of his blades and swords.
Finally reaching for a sword which was made 2 years ago. Layers appeared as well. This time, only 2 with a bright bluish color and another deeply dark silver one. It was a thinner blade with unnatural stillness. It would not bend during the sharpening process at all.
“I wish I could write in different colors. This will be hard to compile. I will need to get all the information about the materials. It's a crucial factor for mixing, I think.” Allan described everything in his spy diary as detail as he could. He was a decent writer by now, but not overly great at describing everything in great detail.
The lack of colors made his work difficult. Even with colors. Finding the right sheen of it would be impossible. After writing it down. He went back 2 years to look for information he wrote back then. The process of making the sword was described in detailed steps.
1st: Father took dark silver with slightly pale bluish silver bricks into the furnace. Temperature unknown. It was there for 30 minutes.
2nd: Hammering was done in 1 hour 30 minutes. Made by a usual hammer which is always by a side of a furnace. Colors were normal with a slight abnormality of steam.
3rd: Sharpening was done with a gray whetstone. The colors of the sword were dark silver only. Very smooth surface afterward, apart from the tip which he left in a dull state.
4th: Guards were made in the other room. Assembly was done afterwards. Father used some bottles of liquid from his drawers on the blade's surface. Not sure about the amount of it or its properties or significance.
“I don’t get it. It’s contradictory. Where did that bright blue come from?” Allan thought.
“How annoying. Nothing is ever simple and now he came back with it, years later, to sharpen it.”
Meanwhile.
Clayton then went for other blades and swords. Masterfully dealing with correct and even angles as he ground away dust. Sometimes blade which was made further into the past and some swords as well. The majority were made 3 years ago and more.
“But he is forging here, down here 2 to 3 times every 10 days. Maybe this is an old batch which he stored somewhere else?” Allan assumed.
Last blade of this batch. The curved blade of black in color. Thin with a wrapped cloth or leather around the handle. Without a guard. After grinding away, black and white waves appeared on an edge a few millimeters in width. It looked quite good and from a long distance, those waves blended together. Clayton still dropped a few drops at the sharp edges and they disappeared.
“Again…Wait. I remember this sword from 1 year ago.” Allan suddenly remembered and began to flip through the pages. He found the same blade he was looking at in just a minute.
1st: Two metallic long ingots. One black. One silver-white. Both were about 25 to 30 centimeters long, 5 to 10 centimeters tall, and wide. Father placed them on top of each other and put them into a furnace for 2 hours and something. Father forget about his hourglass as he was in another room. A singular mass of red metal was made from two pieces.
2nd: Hammering was done normally. The color is less black than before when the metal cooled off, but the white metal is gone. A few times within his hammering, he twisted the metal around like a sharp, round screw.
3rd: Sharpening was normal. Black whetstone. The tip and edge were sharp. Liquid sprinkled into the edges.
4th: Assembly is normal on a table. No guard. Handle wrapped in black leather.
Sometimes Clayton changed things up. Bringing assembly onto the table. Other times making sharpening and assembly in another room. He mostly had bigger blade assemblies in this table. Allan had never seen knives or smaller things like arrowheads and armors in this place. Although he read about them in documents above and also across this room.
Clayton often went and brought molten metal in slab cylinders away. Harder and red hot metal as well. He was making things there too, but Allan never had a chance to see that. Only bags and wooden boxes which Clayton stored around the floor.
“This time, he sharpened it two times?” Evan, those weird metals from 1 year ago were very surprising to Allan. He couldn’t help it. Knowledge, what he read about was happening before his very eyes by the hand of his own father.
“Knowing something is sometimes different from understanding it.” Allan helplessly thought.
After 2 hours of sharpening, 25 blades and swords were laid on a table. Clayton checked each for some final confirmation of their quality, sharpness, and tightness. The same was done for handles as well. He went around a corner to get a big round barrel. The barrel was reinforced by dozens of black metal plates. They went around for 40 centimeters diagonally and were secured by screws. Clayton then put half of the blades inside. They fit inside just enough.
“I have never seen that barrel before. What is going on today? So many questions.” Allan couldn’t help but whine at his father in silence. Clayton then took a bottle of unknown liquid from a shelf. Along with a fistful chunk of dimly glowing shards of crystal. It was orange and transparent. It looked like a piece of ore, but its transparency and glow made it unique. It might glow in a much brighter sheen, with no sources of light obscuring its life.
“Crystal shard, rank 2 efficiency conductor of energy, precious material with high value.” Allan read from his notes on a special page. He had information about materials and ingredients that he managed to discover. There were sketches with descriptions and their usage. It was something Allan found out about, by looking through his binoculars at the office. No usage of these crystals was written. He did not even know what that brief description meant.
“He did not touch them much in these years. Occasionally taking some crystals from his shelves to his bags or boxes. Nothing afterward is clear to me.”
Allan watched with great interest. Finally, something about these crystals was happening. He was always curious about these glowing objects. However, he always could never learn about them. Clayton never bothered to flip through his books with a list of materials with significant details. He knew most there were in them and only from time to time looked for some confirmations. Allan’s material knowledge came from those brief moments.
Clayton tossed it into a barrel, along with the content of the unknown bottle. Liquid sprinkled into metal and crystal. He looked inside. Walking to a shelf with small chests. There were small pebbles in great numbers. He went with one pebble in hand towards a furnace and placed it inside. After 10 seconds, he took it from there and hammered it a few times. A lot of sparks were dancing around the hammered pebble.
“That is characteristic of Lighting Smithing ore.” Allan confirmed from his list.
“Used in conducting and making blades and sword. It gives no special properties. So it is used with crystals? Maybe this is some special circumstance?” Allan thought.
Clayton threw it inside as it was scorching hot and then put the lid on top of the barrel. He jumped and sat on top of it with crossed legs, pulled out a piece of a scroll from his pocket, and started to read.
Inside, Lighting Smithing pebble hit the glowing crystal. Barrel shook. Clayton still sitting there unconcerned by a trembling barrel.
“Scrolls are usually reports from the military. Is it something to do with mister Boris?”
10 minutes went by, shaking barrel never stopped. Wood, which was hidden behind the plates, started to emit light. As if it was in flames. The light went brighter and brighter. After another 30 minutes, the barrel stopped shaking, and the light stopped as well. Clayton yawned as he stepped down. Opening it and bringing all blades from inside to a table. Appearing no different from before. Inside of the barrel was left only some of the rest of the liquid.
Another 40 minutes later, he was close to finishing the second batch. This time, Clayton did the smaller-sized swords. The same story happened here. The only differences were the types and colors of a gloving crystal. White light fulminated the room. It was an oddity. As if the cause of the difference was the materials, forging method, or whatever else Clayton did to them. Allan was clueless as before.
Sword is usually a little different. With guards, longer, straight double-edged blades, and tips. They are excellent in piercing situations. They are easily manipulated and had a longer history than some can imagine.
Blades are sometimes heavier, other times lighter. There was a high variety of them within the entire continent, with smaller handles to even guards. Popular with tribes from the north to the royal families in the south. They were choppers and had strong forward power depending on their shape.
Clayton stared at all 25 blades before him. He took the sword closest to him into his hands.
The scene immediately changed.
It shocked Allan to a core as a vast amount of dusty glow appeared amidst the pressuring aura.