The steel was hot, the forge was burning, and his hammer was singing with every blow to the sword before him. It was a creation of undeniable quality. The blade was carbon steel, perfectly shaped. Strong, with no fractures or cracks from mistakes while forging, but still with the flexibility to make the metal perfect for the job.
The blade was quenched in a barrel of oil, great gouts of heat still pouring off of it. No hidden flaws made themselves known as the focal point of the sword was finished. Like nearly everything he made, it was perfect.
The handle was polished cherry wood, wrapped in leather that had been dyed black. It made the sword fit in a hand as if it were not just a weapon but your weapon. The crossguard was engraved silver, embellished with little curves, arches, and other fancy details. It shone with an inviting gleam, beckoning you to challenge its wielder.
The pieces fit together perfectly, and the sword was complete. Its sheath had been made the week before and already sat in the corner awaiting its partner. Both were undoubtedly works of art, and they fit exactly what the commission asked for. A job well done, and another of the infamous Cole Vance's works graced the world with its presence.
Which made him all the more pissed off that it was a rapier. He had taken the commission knowing this, but he still couldn't help but feel disappointed that it was what had been made. Rapiers were, in the smith's mind, an insult to all that was forging. It was a pointy stick used for duels and nothing else. In fact, it was only pointy at the tip, no edge to be spoken of. A particularly good stick would probably be better, in his opinion.
But it was what the customers wanted, so it was what he would provide.
Even though it was an insult to his talent, it was still a good blade. So it got its customary picture on the anvil, to be hung on his wall later. He was running out of space to hang the images at this point, three walls of his rather spacious living room taken up by photos of swords, axes, hammers, daggers, billhooks, spears, and even the occasional piece of armor. Cole could forge armor, he was the best after all. He just preferred blades and other weapons. They called to him in a way he still hadn't quite figured out.
He took the blade in his hand and gave it a few testing thrusts and stabs. A good smith should be able to wield his weapons, and the man was far more than a good smith. After ensuring it could live up to his standards, the weapon was sheathed and placed on a table in the corner, ready to be picked up by whoever ordered it tomorrow. He didn't know the customer. He just ran the forge.
Mary took care of the customers. She was the best decision he ever made. Now he could spend less time around nerds who wanted swords twice as tall as them and rich people who thought pure gold would make a good sword. And he could spend more time in the forge! People were annoying. You couldn't solve people. With blades, you could realign edges, sharpen whatever dulled, or just start anew with another in the forge.
People tended to be far more likely to just call him rude and leave.
Well, Cole could deal with that. He was rude. Add antisocial, short-tempered, and impatient with anything that wasn't forging to the list. That was why he didn't like people! Yet they kept coming into his shop and demanding the most ridiculous things. No, he couldn't make a sword that could cut a boulder in half! No, hammers were not supposed to weigh more than the person wielding them! And no, he would not make an axe out of pure gold!
People were dumb. Blades were better.
He took a deep breath and cut off his inner rant as he walked out into the storefront proper. The place was already closed and Mary had gone home for the night. He stepped out into the parking lot after locking the doors behind him, ready to head home and get to sleep. He lived across town, in a suburb that was just shy of a gated community. If he joined one of those, he would have to admit he was a rich guy. Then he couldn't make fun of them anymore!
A roar tore through the sky.
It was louder than his hammering in the forge, louder than a gunshot, louder than a jet engine. A streak of something blue and silver came racing down from the night sky and slammed down somewhere over the horizon. For a moment that was it. The sound was gone, the sky was empty of comets that glowed blue, and Cole was fine, if a bit confused.
Then the shockwave hit.
----------------------------------------
Outside of the chaos of the new planet, something watched from the void between stars. Revalor-Algarium-Oxis, the first and last of the Void Gods. His body changed and shifted millions of times per nanosecond, everchanging as the vast universe. His eyes watched with a cold disinterest that had seen galaxy-spanning empires burn. His fingers, tentacles, and claws twitched in annoyance that had slain the mightiest beasts this plane had to offer. His presence restrained so that he wouldn't kill all the mortals on the planet just by looking at it, the God of Entropy sighed.
How he hated that it was his turn to babysit the new planet.
It was the rules, the ones that all of his kind had agreed on. New planets needed Gods to sponsor promising individuals, and each collective must be represented. As the only Void God remaining, he had to be present for every single one.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
At least the Star God representative had only tried to kill him three times so far. The fanatics usually tried harder than that. Nothing here other than that was out of the usual. The other God collectives and their faithful thought of new integrations as wonders, amazing opportunities that only came around once every thousand cycles. For Revalor-Algarium-Oxis, who had existed before time and would exist after, felt as if the last one had been only a moment ago.
The mana that had built up in the planet's atmosphere finally reached a breaking point and rushed forward with the full might of the System. An interesting tool, it was. A creation of one of the past Void Gods, Altagox-Aaet-Yiu, it helped the pesky mortals have a chance in the world where Gods roamed. It was something that not even the God of Entropy could dismantle. He may be the strongest being in the universe, but he had not always been. In his younger millennia, he had been content to let his little siblings surpass him, and his complacency had allowed the creation of the one thing in all the world that could resist the will of Revalor-Algarium-Oxis.
Great rents and fissures appeared as the planet was pulled apart by the mana, forced to stretch and grow so that the mana density alone did not destroy it. He saw cities crumble, oceans drain dry, and mountains taller than some moons stab through the surface. With earth, water, air, and all the other common mana affinities making more of their counterparts, the planet continued to grow until it was the size of a gas giant. Spatial mana kept the gravity and atmosphere from being ruined, and life mana rushed to cover all the surfaces of the new planet with forests and glades. And Monsters.
Five pillars of radiant silver light burst from the planet and stabbed into the void between stars, brimming with enough power to make some of the newer Gods nervous. Gradually, they dimmed until only the spell circles that they came from remained. Channeling spells, so that the System could pour power into its little Chosen. Who cares if the ants were stronger? They were still ants.
In a dry, arid land, a circle with a simple broadsword hung in the air, the sword and the circle itself covered with runes more ancient than most stars. The Warrior. A simple brute who could punch things a bit better. A step up from the rest of the rabble, but it would make no difference if Revalor-Algarium-Oxis decided the ant was annoying.
In a forest that was larger than some pre-mana continents, a circle with a storm cloud raining arrows floated. The Ranger. A hunter whom the Void God had a fraction of a shard of respect for. Those who strove for the hunt sometimes reached the height of Gods. Still pitiful now, but it would have potential.
On an island floating in an arctic sea, a circle showing a staff surrounded by a rune for every type of mana. The Mage. Those, the System gave pure knowledge. Even knowledge of the Void. If the Mage pushed too far and asked too many questions, he might be unlucky enough to receive the Void's attention in turn.
Above the entrance to a deep and labyrinthine network of caves, a circle with a crown made of knives. The Rogue. A coward with a pointy stick.
Finally, above the ruins of a pre-mana city, there was a circle with two weapons. A crossed hammer and sword. A rapier, if Revalor-Algarium-Oxis wasn't wrong. He never was. The Creator. A factory for weapons and traps, usually some young hopeful that the other four could manipulate for free gear. Usually didn't even fight. The worst of the bunch.
A change came over the power. The Creator circle flared again for a moment, the beam this time red, jagged, and angry. When it faded, the rapier had been replaced with a bastard sword. He felt a sense of smug satisfaction from the power of the Creator. One who would defy the System, so soon after partaking in its power?
For the first time in millions of millennia, the first and last Void God was interested.
----------------------------------------
Cole woke up with the mother of all headaches. Migraines and hypertension had a baby, while this thing watched. The pounding in his head was accompanied by a rush throughout his body as if there was a second set of veins carrying not-quite blood through him and he could feel it. The ringing in his ears gradually gave way to the sounds of buildings crashing to the ground, blaring car alarms, and his own raspy breath.
What in the name of all that is bladed and deadly just happened?
The lights. The crash. The shockwave. A dream? Something about a bad logo. He couldn't remember the details, but Cole felt confident that he had sorted it out. He reached up with his right hand to brush his hair away from his eyes but stopped when he saw more of that silver light. There was a tattoo on his wrist, just below the joint that led to the hand. It was a silver circle of some weird-looking scribbles, shifting and pulsing in time with the flow of his blood. In the middle, an insignia of a crossed hammer and bastard sword branded his skin. His logo. The right one.
He shifted his arm to get a better look, positioning it as if he were checking a watch that was facing the wrong side of his arm. The moment he did, some of the scribbles broke off and arranged themselves into recognizable letters. Not a language he knew, mind you, but one he could somehow understand anyway.
[Name: Cole Vance]
Yes, weird letters, that was his name.
They shifted again, this time splitting into several rows like a spreadsheet.
[Name: Cole Vance]
[Class: The Chosen Creator(May not be changed)]
[Rank: Mortal-1]
[Sponsor: None]
[Affinity: Fire, Metal, Kinetic, Conjuration, Enchantment]
[Signiture Ability: Pocket Forge]
Cole's eyes turned confused and he began mumbling under his breath. "What the hell? Rank? Affinity? Pocket Forge?"
A creak sounded out behind him. The smith quickly stumbled up from the trashed car he had been lying against and whirled around. A set of double doors stood there covered in embellishments and engravings. They were made of a type of wood that seemed to shimmer, and the door handles looked like solid silver. An ominous door, leading to nowhere appears by what was almost certainly magic, after some kind of apocalypse comet hits the world, and he hasn't even gotten his bearings yet?
Of course he was going in.
----------------------------------------
hey, just an author note. I feel like signature ability might be a bit confusing. To explain, its just something that helps you use your class. Cole gets a Pocket Forge so that he can create anywhere. The Chosen Ranger would get something for unlimited arrows. A normal Swordsman would get a passive that gives him enough skill with a weapon to swing it without cutting himself instead of the enemy. Hope that clears it up. Have a nice day!