by Eric Vall
“Gods, no,” she said as she wiped joyful tears away from her eyes. When she looked back at me, she flashed an impish smile. “Though they are rather self-important and believe they should be, they are not immortal, although they do live several hundred years longer than humans do.”
“Hm. Interesting,” I remarked, but with my curiosity satiated for the moment, my gaze quickly returned to my unfinished project and exhaustion finally weighed too heavily on my shoulders.
I collapsed back into my seat with a groan, took a deep breath, and let it out slow as I looked over the workshop. Maybe Aurora was right, and I needed to build up my stamina, flex that magical muscle until it was strong.
Then, I was struck with an epiphany, and I snapped my gaze back to the blue-haired maiden.
“You!” I cried as a grin stretched over my face.
“Me?” she asked as she raised an eyebrow.
“You’re my solution.”
“I beg your pardon?” the half-elf asked with a frown. Her tone indicated that she didn’t know whether to be offended or not.
“My stamina dilemma,” I explained excitedly. “The problem is that manipulating the metal to melt takes a lot of energy, which is why I wanted the Tiorlin berries. But you can solve that! If you can use your fire abilities to melt the metal instead, I could shape it easily.”
The Ignis Mage seemed to consider my idea for a moment, but then she shook her head. “This is your training, Mason, not mine. You need to harness and control your abilities yourself.”
“But control isn’t my problem right now,” I argued. “I’ve managed that just fine so far. I simply don’t yet have the vast reserves of power and energy that an accomplished mage such as yourself has.”
I knew I was laying it on a little thick when Aurora rolled her eyes, so I decided to change tracks.
“Besides,” I said with my best convincing smile, “if I am to be a Defender, don’t I need to practice a little teamwork? This can be the start of my cooperative training.”
I could see my reasoning chip away at the half-elf’s resolve. I reached out and brushed at her elbow, right beside the long, pink scar the drake’s talon had left behind. “Please?”
Finally, Aurora sighed and relented. “Fine, but only because I’m curious if this idea of yours will actually work.”
“Of course, do it for science,” I replied with an eager nod of my head.
“So what do you want me to do?” Aurora asked as she placed her hands on her hips.
I grinned. “How hot of a fire can you produce?”
The half-elf maiden cocked an eyebrow at me and held up her hand between us. She extended her index finger, and a blue flame erupted from the tip. “How hot do you need it?”
A thrill of desire arched down my spine, but I shoved it away. First, I’d get this magic thing sorted out. Then, I’d worry about my libido.
An hour later, I stood several feet behind the Ignis Mage as she shot out a get of blue flame toward the anvil in front of her. Even with the distance between us, the heat was intense. Finally, Aurora lowered her hand, and the flame was extinguished. She took a step back and angled her body so I could see the glowing blade she had just tempered. I moved forward through the still warm air, grasped the longsword by its unadorned hilt, and moved it to the vat of cold water two feet away. The blade sizzled as it entered the water and steam rose into the air. It condensed on my face and joined the sweat that dripped off the tip of my nose.
After a moment, I lifted the longsword out of the vat and water sluiced off its gleaming silver surface. Then, I leveled the blade even with my hip bones and admired my reflection in the burnished metal.
“It’s perfect,” Aurora remarked with awe. She reached out to touch it, but I pulled it just out of the reach of her fingertips.
“Nearly,” I said with a strained smile. Even with the Ignis Mage helping, my magic felt almost completely drained now. It had been a long day, and the half-elf had been right, I was pushing myself a little far.
But there was one last thing to do, one last thing this sword needed.
I inhaled deeply, closed my eyes, and summoned forth the last dregs of my power. It crawled through me to the surface, but it answered my call. I laid my palm against the flat of the blade, I envisioned what I wanted, and I willed my magic to do my bidding. When the magic released, I opened my eyes with a gasp. Before me, the longsword looked mostly unchanged. Even Aurora frowned in puzzlement.
“What did you do?” she asked as she reached out again to touch it. I tried to pull the blade away from her again, but she used her elven speed to her advantage. Her finger darted out and barely brushed the edge of the blade, but blood bloomed against her skin, nonetheless.
Aurora gasped and snatched her finger back toward her chest. She examined the bead of blood on her fingertip with surprised eyes. “It’s razor sharp. Without honing.”
“A little magical honing,” I corrected as I grinned lopsidedly at her and waggled my fingers. “With the daggers, it happened automatically, but I think size and my stamina played a factor for this.” I carefully set down the finished sword on the table beside us so as to avoid further injuries.
The half-elf shook her head in disbelief and stuck her still bleeding finger in her mouth. My eyes zeroed in on the sight, attracted like magnets. When she withdrew her glistening finger, I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and gently taking her wrist.
Aurora started at my touch, but she didn’t pull away as I drew her hand toward me. I carefully examined her finger and the paper-thin, pink slice the sword had given her.
“You didn’t let me warn you,” I chastised with a frown. I knew the wound wasn’t dire, but I didn’t like seeing the half-elf hurt in any capacity.
“I think I will survive,” Aurora retorted as she rolled her eyes good-naturedly, but she didn’t move to withdraw from my grasp.
I looked up into her forest green eyes, and by the heat in them, I knew she felt the electricity between us. Everything in me screamed to move in and kiss her, and I would have, but the Ignis Mage suddenly cleared her throat and averted her gaze. She took a step back, and I let her hand slip easily through my fingers.
“This is good news, Mason,” she said as she looked back toward the longsword. “Your control is very acute for a novice, and your powers will be incredibly versatile and useful.”
As she said this, a shadow passed quickly over her face.
“What?” I asked with a frown. “What is it?”
Aurora opened her mouth quickly, and I could tell that she was going to dismiss my concern, but then she seemed to reconsider. Her eyes darted back to my face and regarded me carefully as if she were asking herself if I was trustworthy. She seemed to come to a favorable conclusion because she sighed and rubbed at her elegant brow.
“Do you remember the drake?” she finally asked at length.
I couldn’t help but snort. “Giant, acid-spewing lizard that tried to kill us four days ago? Yeah, I think I remember something about it.”
Aurora scowled but didn’t fire back. Instead, she took a deep breath and collected herself. “Well, I may have implied that its death was the end of our problems and a relief to both king and kingdom, but I do not believe that to be the truth.”
A chill of unease slithered down my spine. “Do you not think the drake was responsible for the deaths then?”
“In that particular region and in that specific village, yes,” Aurora replied, “but the drake was not responsible for all the violence and bloodshed in the south.”
“How do you know?” I asked with a furrowed brow.
“Because that was the third beast I’ve slain in as many months,” the half-elf responded gravely.
My jaw fell open. “There have been two more drakes?”
“No, not just drakes,” she corrected with a shake of her head. “One was a wyvern which is a smaller cousin of the drake. It only has two legs, but it makes up for it with wings and a ferocious
taste for blood. The other was a griffin. It is like the worst qualities of a drake and a wyvern combined with both its wings and powerful hind legs, but thankfully it spits neither flame nor acid. I killed all three of these creatures far from their usual territories, and I cannot fathom why they’ve descended on Illaria now, simultaneously.”
Aurora sighed with frustration at this problem that had vexed her for months now, but when she looked up and met my eyes again, I saw a spark of hope flare deep within her own.
“But with your abilities, perhaps we can change the tides,” she declared with a wild grin. “Perhaps we can dig out this darkness by the root before it spreads to the rest of the kingdom.”
“Even though my powers might be novel and new, I’m not a master yet,” I reasoned with a frown. I was gaining more and more mastery over my magic with each passing day, but I didn’t want to put the beautiful half-elf in danger if I could help it.
“I believe we faired fine before,” Aurora replied with a grin. “But that’s not all I meant. With your powers, the Order can now craft more weapons for our arsenal. As you witnessed with the drake, some beasts have a bit of magic in their own right, which is why my flames didn’t have as much of an effect as they should have. Nothing, however, is immune to cold, hard iron.”
“So we need superior, non-magical weaponry,” I said slowly as the barest hint of an idea sparked at the back of my mind, “and vast quantities of it.”
Details began to take form behind my eyes. At first glance, the notion seemed insane, but then again no more insane than dragons and magic.
This could work.
And it would be awesome.
Aurora narrowed her eyes at me. “What’s that expression? What are you thinking?”
I shook my head with a broad grin. Already, the seed was germinating in my mind.
“I don’t want to say until I’ve worked it out fully,” I replied. “But where I’m from there is this saying: the gods made men, but Samuel Colt made them equal.”
Chapter 8
For my crazy idea of building a pistol to work, I needed to obtain a few things, the first of which was Abrus’ permission.
But as I expected, the Lux Mage was hesitant and unconvinced in the beginning.
“You desire to what?” he questioned with a frown the morning after Aurora and I had completed the longsword.
After I had dragged the half-asleep maiden from her room, we had tracked Abrus down to the meal hall before breakfast had even finished being served. The night torches were still lit, and Abrus looked like he needed a vat of coffee as he sat before a plate of toast and eggs, but I couldn’t contain my energy. For the first time since I had arrived in Illaria, I had gotten an actual good night’s sleep. I was rested, well-fed, and eager to see my plan through to fruition. I simply had to persuade the elder mage to let me do it.
“I want to build a new weapon,” I repeated as I flashed the older man my best cajoling smile. “Something the likes of which you’ve never seen before. It will be ten times as powerful and deadly as any blade, and it will be immune to any magical interference like what the drake had.”
Well, immune to any magic besides my own, but I didn’t need to say that aloud.
Abrus furrowed his brow as he considered my words. Aurora had told me that the beast’s attacks had also vexed the Lux Mage. There had been numerous Order council meetings and also several audiences with the king to address this issue. The whole kingdom wanted to see this problem solved.
But, as I expected again, Abrus loved to be difficult.
“I believe you should see to your training first, Terra Mage Flynt,” he replied as he shook his head, “before you shift your focus and efforts to other endeavors.”
He turned back to his breakfast and reached to pick up his fork, but I concentrated on the utensil and let my magic slip out just a little. The fork slid a few inches out of Abrus’ grasp.
The Lux Mage cocked an eyebrow at me in disapproval, but I stood my ground.
“But that’s just it,” I countered as I lifted my chin. “I’m not only a Terra Mage. I’m also a mage of metal, and those abilities that set me apart are the ones I believe can truly help defend Illaria. Besides, you said yourself that my powers needed to be thoroughly investigated. I don’t want to abandon my magical studies entirely. I merely think this is the best way to hone them.”
Abrus still didn’t look entirely convinced, so I turned to Aurora. I gestured for her to hand me the longsword I had brought as my last persuasive gambit. The blue-haired maiden slipped the still unwrapped hilt into my grasp, and the cool metal kissed my palm. I very carefully brought the blade in front of me and then laid it on the table before the Lux Mage.
“What is this?” he asked with a puzzled expression. He extended a single finger and ran it along the flat of the sword, careful to keep away from the razor-sharp edges.
“Proof,” I replied with a broad grin. “Proof that the foundations of my abilities are strong.”
The elder mage’s eyes actually went wide. “You crafted this?”
“With a little bit of help from Aurora,” I added as I winked at the beautiful woman standing beside me.
“It’s true, Mage Abrus,” the half-elf said to her superior. “I watched him myself. With some assistance, he molded this sword in an hour. He sharpened it with a mere touch. His powers are strong, sir. If he believes he can accomplish this new task, I think we should allow him to try.”
Abrus pursed his lips at sat back as he listened to Aurora’s defense. The hairs on the back of my neck rose as I thought I saw a flash of annoyance in his two-toned eyes, but it was gone in an instant.
Finally, Abrus lifted his gaze back to mine. “I thought I had given you explicit instructions, Terra Mage Flynt. You were only supposed to melt the ingots into rings and back again.”
“I know sir,” I replied with a shrug, “but to be fair, I mastered that within the first hour, and you were gone the rest of the day. I thought it wasteful to not make the best use of my time.”
“Hmmmm.” Abrus frowned sharply, but before he could say anything else, I felt the need to add one last thing.
“You tasked me with defending Illaria. This is the best way to do it. Give me the chance to show you.” I was using Abrus’ own words against him, but his face remained impassive for a long moment. No one said a word and even the sounds of other mages entering the hall for breakfast faded into the background as I held my breath.
“Very well,” the Lux Mage said at last with a sigh, and then he lifted a hand and waved it dismissively. “I give you my permission to construct this weapon, but I expect daily reports from the both of you.” He leveled Aurora and me with a stern stare.
The half-elf nodded immediately, and I followed suit, although I was already considering what and what not to relate to the Lux Mage, at least until I figured out what his deal was.
“Thank you, sir,” Aurora said as she bowed her head.
“May I continue eating in peace now?” Abrus replied dryly as he reached for his fork again.
“Of course,” I said, and then I bowed my head, too. “Thank you for your time.”
Abrus grunted noncommittally and looked back to his plate of cold eggs.
I quietly grabbed the longsword from the table and, together, Aurora and I retreated from the mess hall.
“Well, you have Abrus’ blessing,” the half-elf whispered excitedly to me as we walked. “What’s the next step to constructing this weapon of yours?”
“Tell me, my lady,” I said as I looked down at the blue-haired maiden with a mischievous grin. “Are there any caves or hot springs nearby?”
“Yes,” Aurora replied hesitantly as she narrowed her eyes at me in confusion. “Why?”
“Because I believe it’s a lovely day for a little adventure,” I responded cheekily. “Now, come on. Let’s go find Nerfrina.”
Back on Earth, renaissance festivals had always resonated with me, but I also had a general
love of historical crafting, arts, and stories. I lived in an age with the internet, and I had all the knowledge of mankind at my fingertips combined with a curious mind. I wouldn’t have called myself an engineering expert by any means, but I’d often fall down the rabbit hole of watching endless YouTube videos, and I knew all sorts of fun stuff that most men my age and time wouldn’t ever need to know.
Like how to make gunpowder in the wild.
Once we had Aurora’s horse and another chestnut stallion for myself, the two of us quickly left the Oculus, and the capital city of Serin, behind. We rode north along the river Asris and traveled deeper into the foothills. The terrain grew rocky as we climbed into the base of the mountain range, but the horses’ hooves were steady and sure beneath us.
“I still do not understand how an old healer’s remedy and bat manure can be turned into a weapon,” Aurora complained for the third time.
We were several hours into our trek, but according to the half-elf, we were nearly to our destination. The sun was already high above our heads, and its heat was warm on the back of my neck.
I turned and smiled encouragingly over my shoulder at the Ignis Mage. “It will all make sense once I have all the necessary ingredients. Trust me.”
“This weapon better be worth the effort we are spending to make it,” Aurora grumbled with a frown.
“Oh, it will be,” I said as I pictured the designs and schematics for different styles of weapons. “It will be.”
“We’re here,” Aurora announced ten minutes later from behind me as we came to a bend in the path. “The caves are this way.”
I turned my horse to find the half-elf had angled Nerfrina toward the woods to our left. She jerked her chin over her shoulder and nudged her horse forward.
I ducked under a low-hanging branch as we entered the tree line and instantly, the shaded air cooled my sun-warmed skin. The forest looked much the same as the one where Aurora and I had met that fateful day. The trees were tall and green as emeralds, and the breeze smelled sweet and heavy, like honeysuckle. I took a deep, bracing breath and let it out slow as contentment filled me.