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Book Five: Diplomacy - Prologue

I can feel the heat simmering in the substance before me. My hands feel jittery, every small twitch magnified by the distance. Even the smallest movement threatens to send the glowing liquid splattering everywhere. The container I’m so carefully controlling is a large earthen cup at the end of a long piece of bone. I hadn’t thought my hands would shake any more after all the level ups and increases in my physical stats that I’ve had, but this little exercise has proved my assumptions to be a lie.

I’m concentrating fiercely, not only on holding the cup of precious liquid steady, but also on making sure that the conditions remain ideal: that it remains at a temperature beyond almost anything else I’ve controlled. Only the inferno I used to destroy the vine-stranglers surpasses my current efforts.

Yet the two are barely even comparable. There, I barely held onto control as the fire raged over kilometres through the ready sources of fuel; this time, the only fuel source is my mana and the heat of the inferno is concentrated within a small earthen cup. If I release even the slightest bit of control, I fear greatly what might happen.

It feels like all my practice with Fire-Shaping has condensed into this moment: the ability to use the essence of fire without the outward appearance of it. If I haven’t gone up at least a couple of levels in the Skill, I’ll eat my hat.

My control wavers slightly. Stupid! Don’t get distracted now!

Shuffling across the ground to the mould I’ve prepared, I sense my assistant shifting out of the way. I know he’s probably intensely curious – he’s proven to be that about everything else, so why not this? But I don’t have the ability to answer any of his questions right now.

Reaching the right distance from the moulds, I carefully reach out with my mind to reconnect with the mana I’ve soaked into the clay. I check once more that there is no moisture left in them and that they are as reinforced as I can make them. I’ve learned from the explosion of my first attempts at this process.

Holding my breath, I tilt the bone-and-stone tool gently. The liquid drips into the cast and fills it quickly, the liquid as thick as syrup, but far more dangerous. I have to be careful not to over-fill it either – it’s not a large object that I’m trying to make. Not yet. That will be next time if this works as I hope it will.

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Moving onto the next, I fill moulds until my crucible is empty.

It’s only then that I breathe, my lungs burning. I keep a sharp eye on the moulds: the first sign of one starting to bubble like my first attempt did, and I’ll raise a shield to protect us from potential shrapnel. I still feel guilty over accidentally hurting two passing samurans who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

So far, so good – the metal is calm, the magic reinforcing the clay prevents it from being badly affected by the heat in the molten substance.

What do we do now, Honoured Markus? my assistant asks.

“We wait for it to cool,” I answer with a shrug, moving back over to my workstation. Time to prepare another crucible. It’s such a demanding process that I can’t prepare much at a time, but I’m hoping to be able to increase the amount a bit more this time – I think I’m getting the hang of it.

And then what do we do after that?

“We need to sharpen the heads, then pass them over to Sticks – uh, Wood-Shaper. She’ll make them into spears for the villagers.”

Hurts-his-foot, or, as I’m calling him ‘Happy’, cocks his head to one side.

‘To all the villagers, or just to the Warriors?’

One corner of my mouth pulls upwards. It’s a question that I doubt would have even been asked before recent changes in the village.

“To the Unevolved first,” I confirm. “The Warriors already have their weapons, and several advantages of their own. Hopefully this way more of the Unevolved will make it out of the forest at the end of each day.”

Happy flicks his tail quickly in a gesture of fervent agreement.

Will you explain what you are doing, Honoured Markus? he asks next, more tentatively.

“I can’t talk while doing it, but I can tell you now what I’m doing, and you can try to identify each step when I do the next batch,” I offer instead.

Thank you, Honoured Markus, he responds eagerly. So interested in everything I'm doing with the metal – I really hope that he will manage to become the village’s first Metal-Shaper.

“I’ve told you – just call me Markus,” I sigh. “Anyway, I need to recover my mana before starting again. So, what I’m doing is this….”