Erika watched as the large Lycan melted away the bars his sons brought him into a viscous, molten liquid, his very hands churning the magma and being completely unaffected by the heat. “So, Misses Draconia was it? Tell me, what abilities do you possess? How do you fight?” Jared asked as he crushed a black crystal into dust before sprinkling it over the molten iron.

“She’s a balanced fighter, equal in speed, strength and technique. Personally I’d say a shield would suit her best but she seems to prefer to keep her other hand free.” Gray explained.

“Hm, a long single edged blade with a curve would then suit you best, a light sabre perhaps?” Jared mused, running his hand through the molten liquid, seemingly waiting for it to be at the right stage to continue.

“My draconic blood empowers my body, so I can evade or withstand a direct hit myself, a shield would only cover my vision or weigh me down.” Erika added, “Also, my blood has the effect of empowering anything I activate it on. I guess you could say it’s like when you decide to transform, I will it and my spilt blood activates anything it is in direct contact with.”

“Interesting,” Jared then turned to a rack of tools one of his family had dragged inside. Grabbing hold of a dagger, he forwarded it to Erika. “Then maybe fusing your blood with the metal could give it that same property?” He asked.

“I…don’t know.” Erika responded, taking the dagger off him.

“A test then.” Jared ran his palm under the molten mixture, lifting up a small puddle in his large hand, he hovered it before her. “Drip your blood within, I’ll mix it, shape it and then cool it.”

Nodding, Erika lay her palm over his, feeling the heat radiating out she couldn’t believe how unfazed he was holding that in his hands.

“Pops’s lycanthropy blocks almost every level of heat.” Gray explained, seeing her curiosity. “That counts for cold as well, he just doesn’t feel it.”

Running the dagger across her palm, Erika then squeezed her hand into a fist, dripping blood into the liquid metal.

“That will do, too much and it would affect the final product.” Jared said, taking the mixture off into a different cauldron which he moved to also be heated up like the rest. Mixing it with merely his index finger, he then opened the cauldron’s stone gate, letting the liquid fall into a small mould.

Lowering himself to the still molten liquid, he then began to blow air onto it, albeit it seeming silly to Erika at first…

She then felt the frigid cold his breath emitted.

She watched, as the liquid within the small mould quickly cooled, solidifying. Yet Jared didn’t fully cool it, leaving it burning red as he took it out of the mould and over to the anvil, where taking his hammer into hand he began to shape it.

Bashing away at the heated metal bar, now using tongs to hold it better rather than his thick fingers. He’d switch from shoving the metal into the midst of the smeltery to reheat it, before continuing to hammer away. Thinning the bar and elongating it into a completely blunt blade, quickly then bellowed out a long breath of air, blasting a screen of steam all around them as it met the heated metal.

Cooling it on the spot.

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“I wonder how this will react, with the blackite.” Jared mused, putting his hammer and tongs aside.

“Blackite, a magic infused crystal, very fragile on its own due to the large amount of mana stored within but…” Gray gestured to the smouldering iron, “When mixed with much larger quantities of unpure iron, losing most of its magic potential through the smelting, it retains enough to become what we call Dark Iron.”

And indeed, as Erika looked into the molten metal, it was completely black other than the bubbles of molten crimson that would occasionally form up. Yet, the blade Jared was now holding, looked no different from a common iron one.

“Now, some finishing touches.” Jared mused, turning to large wheel, “Oi pipsqueak if you got time to talk you got time to work, spin this for me.” He told his nephew, who begrudgingly agreed.

Gray began turning a lever in a circular motion, making the wheel start to spin at least ten times faster than he was pushing. Jared then began carefully pressing the blade into it, creating a rain of sparks as the wheel ate away at the metal.

Several long minutes passed as Erika stared at the sparks, a strange sensation filling her as she watched the blade take form.

Minutes, turned to an hour, as Jared had taken to shaping the butt of the blade into a handguard, grip and pommel which he also took his time to form himself out of the wood, leather and other resources he had requested.

An hour, turned to three, as finally the dagger was done. Jared stood up and turned to Erika, holding the weapon out to her. “Well, here you go then.”

Taking the weapon into her hand, Erika sensed a connection with the blade…A divide between her sense of place and time as well, feeling herself within the weapon.

Gripping the leather tightly, she focused on that feeling, she focused on that connection.

Willing her mana forth, feeling her blood burn throughout her body, yet there was no change in the dagger…

For a few moments, there was no change…

Until the faces of the blade lit up aflame, sizzling through the metal a dark blue blaze began flaring along it, creating a light blue glowing trail as it went. The blade became riddled with these trails as the flame burned through it, like blue veins coursing all over it, they pulsed between bright and dim, but never unlit.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Jared mused, “It worked.”

“That is very interesting indeed,” Erika agreed, “I feel…bonded with the weapon.”

“You feel it?” Gray questioned, “That’s a first.”

When suddenly the sound of a crash outside echoed out through the shop. “You seem to forget nephew,” Jared sighed as he stood up, “She is unlike any of us.” Glancing over to Erika then, “And as I believe your officer expected, trouble brews where unmatching materials are mixed.”

“You don’t think…” Gray grumbled as all three of them rushed outside the smithy and into the shop proper, finding five armed men standing over the garrison guard posted there whilst he lay unconscious on the ground.

“And what might I attribute, this visit to, Ragtails?” Jared asked before the five men, armed with similar leather sets of armour with dark green patches, and an insignia of a blade made out of black vines with green thorns.

Seeing the insignia, Erika remembered where she had seen it before…and on who.

Thorn. His clan?

The lead man turned to Jared, “You are none of our concern Silverhide, I simply heard tell of a scaly bitch scuttling amidst you, one who brought my grandson to shame before the elders.” The man was gangly tall, somewhat muscular and seemingly approaching elderly, with the same characteristics as Thorn. Same colour of hair, brownish gray, the same eyes, a dark green, and the same long pointed nose.

“Jackobe, this is my store, my family roof. And while-” Jared began to say, but was cut off as Erika suddenly moved to stand in between them.

“It is fine, sir Silverhide, their business is with me no?” Erika said, causing the man called Jackobe to smirk.

“Erika what are you doing!?” Gray whispered.

“Unrest between your clan and another would mean trouble for the both of us, no?” Erika added, “Their problem is with me, then I’ll deal with it myself. Stay out of this, please.” She told him, her stoic eyes telling him the same as they glanced away and settled upon the five men. “Let us take our business outside, the Silverhide clan does not need to partake in this.” She then told the men.

Jackobe glanced around, seeing the Silverhides all watching from every side of the store, wearing the clothes of craftsmen yet strong and built they still were. And weapons were everywhere to be found in here.

He nodded, and motioned his men outside, following out himself.

Gray then grabbed Erika by the shoulder, “Don’t strike first.” He warned.