The next day, Katya came over. And so did Hasha. I’d been going over my plans with Katya when he entered, wearing a red shirts this time. True to form, he immediately broke the ice with a joke.

“Oh, and you must be Katya,” he smiled, holding his hand out politely. “Delighted to meet you my dear, though I must say, you aren’t what I expected.”

With an odd amount of gravity, a paw lifted up and shook Hasha’s hand. Mountain nodded at Hasha with far more dignity than a dog should have.

“Hasha,” I said, blushing in embarrassment at the bad joke from one of my mentors. “This, is Katya.”

I picked her up by the elbows and plucked her down in front of Hasha. Katya was no help. The blonde was giggling at the sight of Hasha shaking Mountain’s paw, and seemed just on the edge of full on guffaws.

Apparently she had a love of bad jokes. Hasha was going to love her then.

“Really?” he winked at Mountain, who grinned back. “Ah well. Good to meet you, my lady,” He bowed gracefully.

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” she saluted him with a bright smile. “So you’re Char’s teacher?”

“Master, actually,” they both ignored the startled look I gave him. “I consider him my apprentice, despite the rules in place that keep me from declaring it in truth.”

For a moment, I felt a spot of vertigo. After all these years, he’d finally admitted that he thought of me as his apprentice. This was—

“Why wouldn’t you be allowed to declare it?” Katya frowned. “Why is it against the rules?”

I stared at her. Hasha stared at her. Even Mountain somehow gave the dog version of a dumbfounded glance.

“What?”

“…He’s a half-orc,” Hasha said hesitantly. “And the ruling council of Jarvin Tower would never allow an orc, half or otherwise, to be declared a true wizard.”

She gasped in shock. “That’s not fair!”

What was happening right now? Was she really that naïve?

“Char isn’t like the orcs who’ve killed people! They shouldn’t paint him with the same brush!” she shook her head, scowling. “There are lots of humans that are killers, but that doesn’t make us all killers! The ruling council must be stupid,” she looked hard at Hasha. “Are they? I’ve never met them, you see.”

“…You, my dear, are a rare gem,” Hasha declared.

“Oh. Thank you?”

“You are welcome, and thank you as well.” Hasha smirked. “Yes, the ruling council of wizards has often made decisions based not on rational thoughts, but on flares of emotion. Char is, at best, a minor instance of this.”

“Hmf,” I grunted, somehow insulted.

“Tell you what my dear,” Hasha gallantly held out an arm for her. “As I understand it, you have much to learn about the world. Would you like a brief lesson?”

She nodded eagerly, taking his arm.

“Good. Then follow me into the living room. I think we should start with,” he walked off, spinning tales of the world as the Prophesied Child listened intently.

I looked over at Mountain. He looked back me.

“…He was testing her,” I explained. For some reason, I felt that I had to explain, that I was being politely asked to.

Mountain barked, eyes widening.

“First, he made that joke. That was to see how she views herself. Extreme anger at the perceived insult might be signs of an overly sensitive nature. An under reaction might have been signs of low self-esteem, a possible sign of as abuse as child.”

Mountain growled, showing what he thought of the last.

“She found humor in it, showing a high confidence tempered with an easy going nature.”

Mountain still seemed offended.

“He does these little tests at times,” I shrugged. “They give vital information to him. It’s not an exact magic of course,”

I turned away from the far too intelligent dog to start working on my schematics again. Come to think of it, he’d made a joke when he’d met me as a child. I thought he’d been making fun of me, so I refused to speak. He then switched tactics accordingly. So even back then, he’d been testing me. Odd to think of things that way.

As Hasha began to teach Katya in the living room, I finished up my plans.

The armor would incorporate my steel cotton directly into it. I’d test if I could make the carbon lattice I’d been planning on instead, but the idea was to stack steel cotton sheets beneath the steel plates I was making. With the strength of the plates I could make, the steel cotton surround each piece would further protect her while still letting me reach my quota. I’d need steel, both for the plates and the transmutation process. Cotton as well, though silk might work even better due to already being a tough piece of cloth, thought I’d need to test that.

Another part of the process would be my cooling plates. They were different sized sections of metal that had the rune thurizaz to direct destructive force, and the rune isaz for ice etched onto them. The largest was a meter across, and the smallest as a couple of centimeters. Using them, I could cool off metal faster than normal, without sacrificing the strength and durability of the metal. It worked by using the thurizaz rune to direct the destructive heat within the metal into the cooling effect of isaz. It took time to make each one, but the cooling plates had been invaluable in speeding up the work in the shop, and they’d be a huge asset for making Katya’s armor.

My runes were planned out as well. Ones to increase durability, lessen weight, promote mana regeneration, so on and so forth. The only issue was her Light magic. I wasn’t sure how to increase that. There were runes that dealt with concepts of light, but not Light.

Well, I had her here for a reason, right?

With that thought, I walked across the room and entered the living room. Mountain followed, somehow slipping through the door despite being far too large.

“Katya?”

She looked up from the map Hasha had spread out on the dining table.

“Hmm?”

“How much do you know about Light magic?”

Katya blinked her bright eyes in confusion. “Um… it is the manifestation of divine power, through believe and faith.”

“True enough,” Hasha leaned back in his seat. “The power of the Light is a form of magic, but it manifests different manner than what I’m used to. Light, natural light, comes in the form of waves, in particles. I know that, if focused, it can become intense beams of heat. It can also be redirected, to allow a person or object to be invisible. It is, to my knowledge, the fastest moving thing in existence.”

He shrugged. But it can’t create physical shields, heal diseases and wounds, or strengthen a person for a brief time. And yet, I’ve seen paladins and priests do all these things. The Light seems to work based on the way its users believe it should. That is the problem with spiritual magic. When Char,” he waved towards me, “makes a dagger, just a simple dagger, his belief, intent and willpower have no play in the process. He follows the steps, and the dagger is created. As long as he does things the right way each time, a dagger will be created. That is the reliable nature of physical magic. But then there is spiritual magic,” he waved at Katya and himself. “If I am especially enraged, I can create fireballs as large as houses. I assume, Lady Katya, that you have a similar situation.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “The more I believe in the righteousness of my fight, the better I am.”

“Indeed,” he stroked his chin. “What are you trying to do, Char?”

“Well,” I said slowly. “I want to see if I can enhance her use of Light magic somehow. If I can understand what she can do, then I can understand what I am doing. I know of several runes meant to improve efficiency of spells, or the destructive potential of them. But I don’t know how they’ll react with the Light.”

“Well, this calls for my favorite activity!” Hasha rubbed his hands together, eyes gleaming. “Let’s do some experiments!”

------

“Okay, stand there,” Hasha directed Katya into the center of a set of runes in the middle of my workroom.

“What are these for?” she kneeled to look closer at one of the runes.

“It’s something Hasha made for me,” I explained, sitting down next to the door to flip open my notebook. “A safe zone. When I use spiritual magic, it keeps whatever I do inside that space. That way I can study the effects as carefully as possible without worrying about outside influence. Or explosions.”

“Explosions?” Katya looked up from where she’d poking eihwaz, the rune for protection. Algiz, another form of protection, rested next to it, both runes about as big as a hand

ᛇ- Eihwaz

ᛉ- Algiz

“Spiritual magic can be volatile. So can physical magic can as well for that matter,” I explained.

“Do you use this to protect you from physical magic too?”

“No,” Hasha answered her. “For that, we depend on physical barriers. Like three feet of stone and a few inches of steel plate.”

She stared at him in silent alarm.

“Don’t worry.” I reassured her. “We just want to see you use you magic. The runes will help tell us what your using and why. Go ahead.”

Still nervous, she nodded quickly. Then, taking a deep breath, her hands came alight. This close, the golden glow around her hands seemed somehow soothing. Peaceful.

Then she started moving. Slowly, as though she was fighting hordes on invisible opponents, she moved from kicks, to punches, to simple blocks, all of them done with a graceful sort of dancing form.

“Hm,” Hasha leaned forward. “She’s well trained. If I were to guess, they taught to use this to learn how to better use magic in conjunction with combat. Her magic flows with each blow. Take note of that.”

“Already am,” I followed the movement of the magic she was using. From what I could tell, she was chanelling the same energy Hasha (and I as well, though to a lesser extent) used for his magic. However, it came out only as the Light. It flowed through her as though following veins that didn’t exist. It couldn’t be seen, but it could be sensed, if one had experience with it. Like being able to sense heat in the air.

As she moved, a knock came at the door to the workshop. Hasha rose to get it. As he did, I noted something interesting about Katya’s form. She was slowing down, her light dimming.

“Are you getting tired?” I asked in worry.

She nodded. “Yes. Manifesting the Light on a constant basis can be hard. That’s why I prefer to use it in short bursts. It lets me conserve my energy.”

“Huh, smart.”

“Thank you!” she said brightly.

“My lady,” Richard poked his head in to look at us, then frowned at the sight of Katya glowing as she moved through forms in the center of a runic circle while I wrote notes. He frowned. “What is this?”

“Char wants to see me use the Light so he can make my armor,” Katya said happily.

He frowned further at the runic circle. “Is… that safe? I once saw a wizard kill himself in an explosion when he used runes like that. At least, I assume it was an explosion. There was a lot of purple.”

“If there was an unplanned explosion, then that wizard was a fool,” Hasha said firmly, stepping around Richard to enter the room. “Runes are a precise magic. I have trained Char to be very careful in their use.”

“And you are?” Richard asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Hasha Nin. An accredited Jarvin Tower wizard,” Hasha reached into his pants pocket and took out the bronze amulet of a wizard.

Richard looked at the amulet, raising an eyebrow. He looked over Hasha’s simple garb. “You’re a wizard?”

“We don’t all enjoy wearing thick robes and full beards on hot days,” Hasha said dryly.

“So you’re the one that taught the orcling.”

“The one who taught Char, yes.”

Richard grunted, then nodded at me. “Arthur says he’s going to pick up those materials you decided on. I’ll be coming along to pay for everything.”

“Got it,” I wrote down a final note about Katya’s apparent preference for speed once again, then rose from my chair. “We should be good now. Thank you Katya.”

“That’s what I’m supposed to say,” she giggled, then looked over at Richard. “Um, can I stay with Hasha? He said he’d teach me.”

Richard frowned. “I’m not so sure about that. The Arch, um, the leader of the Chapel,” he clarified towards me, possible assuming (correctly) that I’d have no idea who that was, “won’t like an unknown man teaching you.”

“As I said,” Hasha stepped forward. “I am accredited. I promise to teach her nothing that the Jarvin Tower does not. Only simple knowledge of the world.”

“Hmph,” clearly not caring much either way, Richard nodded. “I suppose one day won’t hurt.”

Minutes later Richard, Arthur, and I were on our way in a cart he’d rented, leaving Katya and Hasha in our house as a contingent of guards stood watch over her.

------

When we reached the market, Richard hopped off the cart to go get some coin for our materials. Arthur guided the massive workhorse towards the docks where metals dug by dwarves from the Acore Mountains was brought by river boat to the city. A lot of it would be headed to the Eastern Continents, but the rest went into various projects around the city. Blacksmiths like me, construction projects, jewelers, so on and so forth.

The streets were packed. Vendors yelled out about their wares as people strode around the area. Our cart wrestled past other horses and carts as we pushed through the crowd and people strived past. A street urchin reached into my pocket as we rode past, only to look up at me in disappointment when he realized my pockets were empty. When he looked up, I winked at him, getting a blush before he ran into the crowd, followed by his friends.

I loved these streets. While I may not be liked, I was at the least tolerated by most. Dwarves, humans, and halflings roamed the dirty streets, and payed me little to no mind. There were glares, but nothing like the crowd I’d gotten up in the Nobleman’s section of the city.

It was as I thinking of this that Arthur began to speak.

“So,” Arthur shook the reins a bit, “been a lot of change in our lives.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “…You might be understating.”

“No, you’re overstating,” he said firmly. “This is just a blacksmithing job. Bigger than most, yes, with danger to it. But still a job, and one you will do well. The change is all the new people we’re rubbing soldiers with.”

I nodded at that. “Yes. Been a lot more shiny people in armor glaring at me lately.”

“And at least one who’s got nothing but good feelings towards ya’,” Arthur spat to the side. “The Prophesied Child calling on little Char for help.”

“Little?”

He barked out a laugh. “You’ll always be little to me brat! And don’t ignore my point. How’s it feel, having Katya have so much faith in ya?”

“It’s a lot of pressure,” I shook my head. “I just don’t understand why she decided on me. It seems odd, to have that much faith in someone.”

“That’s cause you’ve never made friends,” Arthur said bluntly. “Me and your dad were the same way. We met one time, and immediately decided we were best friends. It’s how most people make friends. You just meet someone, like ‘em, and if you stand them for more than a week, you’re friends.”

“That… doesn’t make sense,” I frowned. “I mean, aren’t friends supposed to be more meaningfully made?”

“No. That’s the thing about friendship. It isn’t complicated. Just do right by them, and if they do right by you, then they’re your friends,” he shrugged. “Well, barring them suddenly turning out to be right ponces all of a sudden. Which happens. Just means you try again. Besides, I don’t think you have to worry about little Katya suddenly selling you out for gold. She seems like the honest type.”

“See, now that’s understating it,” I said with a smile. Then, I frowned at the sight ahead of me. “What in the hell is this?”

Up ahead, in the crowded streets, a group of guards were walking towards us. As we watched, they began to split up to head towards people. As I watched, the various citizens and the guards started arguing.

“I don’t know,” Arthur frowned. “Why would the city guard be here in force? Is a damn invasion coming?”

“Maybe he knows,” I pointed at a man striding towards us, flanked by two guards. He was similar in style and build to the official who had come to pick me up… was it two days ago? Felt like longer.

“Peasant!” he called to Arthur haughtily. “I require papers!”

“Papers?” asked Arthur. “What papers? For riding through the market?”

The official sneered. “The Prophesied Child walks among us now. As such, the Regent’s Lords and Ladies have called for us to begin searching for the signs of any assassins. And you, for obvious reasons,” he turned his sneer to me. “Seem especially suspicious.”

“Well I don’t have papers,” Arthur spat out. “I’m just a damn blacksmith!”

“Then you will have to be detained, until we can prove you are who you are. My apologies.”

I frowned, and let the full growl of my voice come out as I spoke. “I somehow don’t think you mean that apology.”

The official smirked. “I don’t,” he nodded to his guards, who stepped forward.

“Can’t I leave you alone for two damn minutes?” asked a voice behind the cart. When we turned, Richard was striding towards us, carrying a small bag that jingled happily with coin. “What is the meaning of this?”

The official looked over Richard. Despite noting the armor, he didn’t seem to recognize the caretaker to the Prophesied Child.

“Papers, knight. Without papers, and thus proof of citizenship to this city, I must detain those men and women for the possibility of their being assassins attempting to kill the Prophesied Child.”

Richard blinked. I think that on some level, he was seeing the situation as absurd as I did. Here we were, getting materials to protect Katya, and we were being accused of a plot to kill her. Was that coincidence or irony? I could never tell the difference.

“That, is a massive waste of resources,” Richard mused. “There aren’t enough guards to search out every person, let alone to arrest that many people! Do you understand how much that would cost to fund!?”

The official stared at him. Then, slowly, he smiled. “Yes, you might be right. I could, I suppose, look the other way. If you helped to, ahem, fund the process?”

The two guards smirked. Arthur and I looked at the bag of coin Richard held.

“Oh?” Richard quirked an eyebrow. “I see. Well then,” He lifted the bag and opened it. Reaching in, he took a small handful into his hand, just enough gold coins to fit into a fist. The official eagerly stepped forward, eyes filled with greed.

Richard punched him in the face.

I coughed down a laugh at the sheer suddenness of the action. Arthur didn’t hold back, bellowing in laughter. The official’s guards, those people who had been watching us, and the bloody mouthed official, stared in shock at Richard. The armored knight reached down to take a handful of the official’s shirt in his fist, lifting him up.

“G-Guards!” The official cried out around a mouthful of blood.

All around, the armored soldiers strode towards us, while the two that had been attending the official drew steel.

“Belay that!” Richard barked. All the guards froze instinctively at the authoritative tone he used, the tone of a man used to his orders being followed. Richard pulled the official up until the shorter man was forced to balance on the tips of his toes. He snarled in the face of the official. “Do you know who you just tried to solicit a bribe from?”

“I-I, what—”

“No, you don’t. I am Richard Dedicat, a knight of the Chapel of Valor, caretaker to the Prophesied Child, and man who you just pissed off.”

The official’s blood drained from his face. “I-I… I didn’t know!”

“Who gives a damn what you knew!?” Richard spun the official around to slam him into a cart. “You, an elected official of the people, just tried to solicit a bribe. You are in the midst of an operation that I know for a fact the Regent would not have approved, and you have the gall to act like things would be different if I was just a peasant? I could be the poorest beggar of the streets or King Thur himself! By the Light, the law is the law, and you will follow it!”

He pushed the man to the ground. Richard looked up at the guards. “Arrest this man, now.”

“Sir?” the guards looked at each other.

“Did I stutter?” Richard’s eyes became something akin to a raging fire in their intensity. “Arrest him, and take him to prison. I will send a message to the Regent. This illegal operation is being shut down. And if I discover any of you continuing this, I will come down personally to every Guard Station in the city to beat the living hell out of you.”

“You can’t speak to us like that!” a guard cried. His blade still unsheathed, he tightened a gauntleted hand on its hilt.

Richard cocked a gravely eyebrow. Then he strode forward and backhanded the guard in a slap. The guards head twisted to the side, then snapped back to look at Richard, enraged. That rage faded when the knight stepped in to look at him with all the authority of a king.

“I am a knight. I obtained that title through blood and death, specifically so I could speak to trumped up little shit’s like however I damn well please. No if you feel up to doing something about that,” he nodded at the guard’s sword, “take a swing. And we can settle things like men.”

The guards all looked at each other. None of them moved. “…”

“Get out of here,” Richard turned away. He rested the bag of coins on the seat next to Arthur, and opened his fist over it, letting the coins he’d collected there spill into the bag.

Arthur and I shared a look, then looked over at the guards. The guards noticed me, and one raised a hand.

“The orcling’s with me,” Richard said without looking over his shoulder. “Now don’t make me repeat myself.”

The guards rushed away. As people milled around and stared at him Richard hopped into the cart.

“Come. We have work to do.”

Arthur chuckled. “Yes sir.”

------

With the earlier fiasco over with, we were able to focus on buying our equipment. Steel, iron, bronze, and copper ingots, bull skin, hundreds of pounds of coal, small amounts of silver, three diamonds, chromium, molybdenum, several potions made to aid in blacksmithing, . By the time we were done, we had a small fortune in goods in the back of the cart, with more ready to be sent to the shop. For good reason after all. I was making armor for a religious icon. Anything less than a fortune poured into making the most high-quality armor I could would have been a waste of time.

When we got back to the house and entered the workshop, I could hear Katya and Hasha speaking. I dropped the crate of steel ingots I’d been carrying, then stepped into the main house. “Hey, we’re back.”

Katya and Hasha had set up a small corner of the kitchen as a makeshift classroom in the time we’d been gone. As I came in, Katya was leaning over the small microscope Jennifer had given me, looking at one of the slides I’d created a while ago.

“So you see?” Hasha said enthusiastically. “Plant cells, even in things as different as apples and potatoes, tend to share certain characteristics. As we’ve seen with animal cells as well! Notice, once more, the structure of the cellulose wall. While this microscope isn’t very powerful, I have one of my own that would let you see far more.”

“Wow,” Katya said, eyes widening as she stared into the microscope.

I blinked. They were talking about biology? Wasn’t Hasha teaching her about history before?

“Ah, Char!” Hasha grinned at the sight of me. “I assume you’ve gotten the materials?”

“Yes. I’m about to get started on the armor.”

“Oh!” Katya looked up excitedly. “Can I watch?”

I shrugged, now used to the odd enthusiasm Katya seemed to show for everything. “You can. But I guarantee you’ll be bored however.”

“I won’t,” she shook her head emphatically, pouting in a very cute way.

Minutes later, I had my thick leather apron, a forge nice and hot, and a hammer in my hands. I watched the iron ingot I’d placed inside the forge slowly redden, the heat of the flames within warming my skin. I’d need to create the new alloy I’d had a lot of success with.

A long time ago, Hasha and I worked on a process he’d learned within Jarvin Tower. Using iron and a new metal named chromium, we discovered a process of creating steel with incredible durability, and a brilliant shine. Combined with molybdenum, this alloy was beautiful when polished, as well as a being excellent for armor. It took a lot of work the first time I’d made it, but using runes and some of the alchemical potions Hasha had, we could create our chromoly steel (the name was just a portmanteau of chromium and molybdenum), and do it better than anyone I’d ever met. Even high-carbon steel wasn’t as light or strong as chromoly steel. The only problem was how expensive chromium, molybdenum, and the single diamond I’d need to break down to create the metal, but Richard had been more than willing to spring for them.

Katya was looking through several of the reagents I’d brought as Hasha helpfully assembled them out for me. “What are these for?”

I flicked my eyes back to her. “Reagents. Some small plants like thyme, sections of bone from different animals, diamonds, a little bit of gold dust, all to make the best runes I can.”

Feeling I’d answered her question, I went to work. I placed the metals together, then took three of the potions we’d bought and placed a droplet of my blood into each potion. Splashing the potions I’d bought on the steel, chromium, and molybdenum, I then placed the combined piece in the forge. The potions were meant to combine the various molecular structures in the metal, using the magic within the potions to make the metals form to my own mental image. With my blood mixed into the potions, I’d be able to focus the image in mind. The most important potion however, simply prevented the metal from becoming oxidized, something that could compromise the structure of the metal on a molecular level.

Once the metal was hot, I took it out of the forge and began to hammer it, forge-welding the metal together. It may have been a mistake to use metal that took such a long time to create, but the end result would protect Katya better than any other metal I’d heard of in Jarvin. It would be hard work, but I’d put a few runes on my hammer to make the process faster. Not as fast as the artifact I was making would turn the process into, but I was proud to say that the runes, in combination with my strength, allowed me to forge like no one else.

However, even with my strength and the runes on my hammer, it took a long time to create the chromoly steel. I’d need to heat, temper, hammer, apply the potions, and do these things over and over for hours. Magic and orc muscles can only do so much to speed up time, because metal will do what it wants. You can only guide metal as intelligently as you can, not force it. It was a slow process. An enjoyable process for me. As I took the now combined ingot out and started hammering, I felt at peace. This was where I excelled. I may not have been able to summon blasts of lightning in seconds. But magic like this, requiring patience, requiring precision? That was my best skill.

Slowly, I flattened out the metal over and over, working through the process of creating the chromoly. I entered a meditative state that allowed me to work with full concentration. As I worked, I could hear people enter and leave the sharp, and hear a few conversations as muffled noise. I ignored them. Not to be rude, but simply because I was focused on my work.

Hours later, as the rest of the city slept, I had a flat piece of metal ready to go. I’d made sure to buy good material and take my time, but I still had Hasha used a basic structural grasp spell I hadn’t mastered yet to make sure it was true chromoly steel. Once we were sure of what we had, I began flattening it out before pressing a small tool I’d created to it. I called it the sparker. Just a thin piece of metal connected to handle with the same engraving I’d put on my now long destroyed dagger, all it did was contain a current of electricity. When touched against metal, it ran a small current against it. As it turned out, metal that had electricity running along it seemed to hold magic better than metal that hadn’t. Hasha, I, and many other magic-users were researching the reason for this, but for now I simply let the process speak for itself.

As I used the sparker, I could feel Katya and Richard watching as Arthur explained the process, but ignored them in favor of finishing the test. Once I was satisfied, I began to hammer the piece into shape.

To do this, I placed the chromoly steel on one of the larger cooling plates and waited until the metal was cool, then marked off the design I was using for the metal. I used a small plasma tool, a purely spiritual creation that did nothing but create tiny flames of immense heat using runes, to slice through the steel and cut it to shape, putting the extra pieces aside for later. While I’d gotten enough metal ingots for the whole of the armor, I still hated to throw away anything that could be useful.

As I worked, Arthur began to heat more steel for the backplate and leg armor pieces. The armor was going too made of many different pieces, some of them smaller than one would believe. While Arthur wasn’t going to help with the more sophisticated magic, he was plenty skilled in the main process of metalworking. I moved to help him while the chestplate cooled, using my plasma cutter to create the new pieces. Arthur would spend the rest of the day creating the various plates as I helped, but all the main details and more magical processes were something I’d have to do myself.

Then it was time for the runes and the planishing. I’d decided on the runes I wanted already, barring a few others. Increasing the durability of the armor was obvious, but I’d need to save those for last. When I’d started out as a runemaker, I’d accidently made a dull dagger that was extremely tough. I still had it, because I never threw anything away, but trying to sharpen something that had been turned as hard as a diamond wasn’t worth the effort.

In order to prevent such a mistake, I’d carefully planned out each step of the process, and left some space to work with Katya’s magic. The first step was mannaz, to tie the armor into the intentions of the wearer, and raidō. Raidō was often used to mean journey, but I found that it was excellent for change, or evolution as well. With raidō, the various changes I’d make to the chestplate would be more fluid. Most importantly, the rune went well with mannaz. If mannaz represented a person, then raidō was the perfect rune to represent the changes a person went through their life. So as Katya evolved as a person, her armor would adapt, and continue to work for her.

ᚱ- Raidō

Which brought me to the awkward part of this.

I looked up at Katya. Somehow she didn’t seem poured. On the contrary, she’d continued staring at me through my work, fascinated. She had a pair of dark thick lenses on that she must have worn when I was plasma-cutting and forgotten to take off. They were too big for her, which made her look very cute as she watched me.

“I’m going to need a sample from you.”

“What?” Richard, who’d been watching from a corner of the room, stepped forward.

“Something like sweat, blood, or even hair,” I said quickly. “Nothing drastic. But these runes I’ll be making are going to be tied to your genetic code, so I need a sample of it,” I shrugged. “I would have asked earlier, but it slipped my mind.”

Actually I hadn’t wanted to broach the subject. It was a bit awkward to ask someone for a piece of the hair or a few drops of the blood.

“It’s the principle of the Law of Contagion. Once I have a piece of the target, I can affect it from afar since its still part of a "whole", even if it's miles or kilometers distant. In this case however, it is only so that the armor considers your body as a ‘part‘ of it, and so will work for you more efficiently.“

I took the time to be impressed with Katya. While she didn’t know a lot, she never seemed to be confused by any of my explanations. Maybe she was faking it, but she only nodded thoughtfully at my explanation, rather than asking for clarification. Not dumb, just ignorant. The difference being that stupidity can’t be fixed, but ignorance can.

She reached up to her blonde locks and pulled out a strand with an adorable ‘ow’ of pain. Then she held out the hair to me. “Will this be enough?”

“Perfect,” I took the strand and walked over to my table of regents, slipping it into a small vial.

More work was ahead. But we were on our way.

------

After a few more hours of work, I decided to put an end to things. Katya seemed glad for this, as did Richard. Hasha, on the other hand, could have worked for even longer, and I suspected that he’d continue researching when he got home. I’d explained the rune I’d seen in the garden to him, and he’d been extremely excited with the idea of it.

But me, I choose to rest. I needed my full focus.

And truthfully, the whole experience made me tired. I was beginning to feel the stress of the past hours pile in on me. Katya was a kind young girl, but I don’t think she understood just how tired I was. The constant research, the schematics I’d made, the beating I’d taken from the knights, the encounter with that official on the way to the docks, all the new people in my life, all the concepts I’d had to deal with recently? They took a toll. After a life of quiet study and peace, with only three people in my life, I felt worn out by all of the strange things happening.

So, I went to sleep. I don’t remember why I woke up. All I know is that when I did, I saw a figure standing over me.

The figure wore casual clothing, all a very dark shade of blue. She, and I could tell it was a she from the curves of her body, raised something in her hand.

A dagger.

My eyes snapped open at the sight of it. It was simple in design, curved slightly. A clear liquid could be seen on the surface. I tried to spin away, to grab her arm. But I couldn’t move.

She stabbed downwards. I screamed in my own mind, trapped with a killer stabbing down at me.

A slender hand wrapped around the assassin’s wrist. The assassin let out a gasp, and looked over at the person who’d stopped her.

Jennifer, wearing a purple dress and black leather boots, smirked. “Yeah. Not going to happen, dearie.”

------

Jennifer threw the assassin back. In a display of incredible agility, she, the assassin that is, flipped through the air and landed on her feet. She reached into her pocket with lightning fast speed and flung out something that slashed through the air so fast it was a blur to my eyes. Jennifer’s right hand moved with the same sort of speed, and I heard a few ‘tinks’ followed by several triangular shaped throwing knives landing on the ground.

“Char, throw that curse off yourself and run!” Jennifer called out. That was all she had time to say, for the assassin rushed towards her.

A curse? My eyes, the only part of me that could move, widened. Curses were a tough bit of magic. Almost every living being and many non-living ones, had magic inside of them. That was the nature of the soul after all. This magic, when not being used, simply flowed under the skin. Curses tended to interfere with this natural process in a focused way, causing bad fortune, sickness, and acne. Or paralysis, as I was proving.

The assassin must have placed it on me to prevent me from moving while she stabbed me. This was a massive problem. I could throw off a curse. With time. It was a purely spiritual magic, something I had no skill in outside of its interactions with physical magic, but I could do it. I just had to control the flow of the magic inside me to fight off the foreign intruder, much like white blood cells fighting disease.

The problem was, I didn’t have time. The assassin and Jennifer fought in the small confines of my room at incredible speeds, hands and feet meeting like a drum being rapidly hit, but I could see the assassin’s bright purple eyes flicking to me. Sooner or later she’d try to attack me again.

I pushed off my thoughts of how bad I was at this aspect of magic, and simply went to work. Reaching deep into myself, I dipped into the pool of energy that was my magic. I tended to see it as a steel core within myself, pouring out a steady stream of molten metal. Hasha found that funny.

“So you think of yourself as steel?” he’s asked with a small chuckle.

Imagining the molten metal pouring into my limbs, I forced my magic outwards, flowing under my skin. It immediately hit interference in the form of another force of power. The assassin’s curse. I imagined the molten metal of my magic pressing against the curse, burning it.

It was slow going. I like to think I have a good imagination, but this sort of visualization was something I liked to do slowly, taking my time. Rushing through it was going against everything I specialized in.

I pushed my magic against the curse holding me in place. A throwing knife bounced off my chest as Jennifer continued to defend me, almost shattering my concentration.

The curse held for a long time. Then, under the force of my magic, it shattered.

A brief wind came from me, residual energy from the curse. I rolled off the bed and hopped for the door. With my magic still flowing through me, and my body aching from the curse, I stumbled across the room. The assassin saw me move, and rushed towards me as I hobbled away.

“Get away from him!” Jennifer shot across the room and slammed her fist into the assassin’s chest. Both woman started to move with incredible speed and ability, fists and elbows aiming at each other’s vital points. There was an efficiency to their movements. Unlike Katya, who seemed to treat battle as much as a fun game as a fight, they moved to the most simple and brutal method of attack, aiming to finish the opponent off.

I’d just reached the door when the assassin managed to kick Jennifer back. She snarled something at Jennifer. Then, in a vicious move, she used the knife she’d prepared to kill me with to stab herself in the hand.

I froze, trying to understand why she would do such a thing. Her hands slapping together with fingers shifting into a changing set of patterns as blood poured from one and slapped the ground with a loud yell.

Nothing happened. Then a chill came in the air. It pressed in around me, like slowly sinking in the cold mud of a swamp. The lights, which had been dim before, seemed to sharpen. The sickly sweet smell of rot filled the air.

And a shadow came out. Inky-black, it’s form wispy despite its large size, it came out from behind the assassin, despite the fact that she’d been pressed up against a wall. I felt my throat become dry, even as some part of me started interpreting what I was seeing.

“Demon,” as I whispered this, the creatures face solidified into an inky black smile set against a long face, red eyes snapping open to gaze at Jennifer and me.

Like a spirit, the natural beings of the wilderness, demons were creatures of pure spiritual magic. They could be good, bad, or neutral. But more often than one would like, they were made of the same sort of insanity that possessed the world’s worst mortal killers. The enemies of dragons, the plague-creators, and the beings of myth.

And one was in my room.

The demon rushed towards me, long claws of shadow reaching out. I stepped aside, fist closing, ready to fight no matter how useless it was.

Jennifer stopped it. She grabbed the shadow and slammed it to the ground. I don’t know who was more shocked when Jennifer managed to wrestle a demon to the ground, me or the assassin, but we both watched in awe as the redhead and the monster roared in each other’s faces. Jennifer’s eyes seemed to glow as she and the beast began hitting each other, and there was a chill laugh filling the air all the while. The beast threw her into a wall, shaking the stone walls of the house, but she only cried out in laughter, launching towards the massive beast with her tiny fists and driving it back.

As we stared in awe, the assassin and I shared a look. For the first time, I got a good look at her. She looked human, though I couldn’t tell for sure. She was short, and seemed thickly built, with well-formed muscles under her dark clothing. Her full lips, closed, then quirked into a smirk as she looked at me. Her blue eyes flashed under ink black hair.

I ran as she flashed her hand outwards. Her dagger, still soaked in her own blood, clattered against the stone wall behind where I’d been standing. I didn’t look back, just running down the stairs.

This was the three men in the alley, or the knights from a day ago. This was a trained killer, and a fellow magic user who seemed to be willing to summon damned demons to get the job done. No way I was going to take her head-on. I avoided thinking about what such a dangerous person might have done to Arthur, who’s room was next to mine, simply rushing down the stairs. A quick turn and I was at the door to the forge. I panted heavily, my muscles screaming. Despite throwing off the spell, the curse had taken its toll, and using my magic in such a reckless way had caused damage only rest would solve. No time for that now.

I opened the door to the forge room, rushing past the armor stand where Katya’s chestplate rested to get to my workshop. There stood my salvation.

My own armor. Forgotten for days, I’d only used it as a reference for the runes I’d be putting on Katya’s armor. It rested on it’s armor stand, a proud testament to both my skills and my failures. As helpful as it may have been, I couldn’t but it on, not before the assassin rushed into the room. But I could put a piece of it on.

I grabbed the right gauntlet, slipping my hand inside. Pressing the runes on the outside of the wrist, I watched the gauntlet comes to life, pieces flipping into place to fit more solidly to my hand. As it did, a large tube came from the top of it, the opening aimed over my fist. I heard a noise behind me and spun around. The assassin’s hand reached for her waist. My gauntlet rose. A loud boom filled the air, leaving a ringing noise in my ears as the noise echoed in the small room.

Then it was quiet. I stared at the assassin. She stared back. Smoke came from the tube attached to my gauntlet. Then, she fell to her knees.

I was breathing hard, panting really. The stress of the last few minutes combined with running while under the effects of the curse had taken their toll. The assassin pressed a hand to her chest, where dozens of small holes had appeared.

“What… what happened?” she asked. Her voice was soft. I hadn’t expected that.

“…black powder,” I answered, leaning against a shelf and letting my armored hand drop to my side. “It makes an explosion when ignited. So I made some myself, and packed it into a barrel along with some small ball bearings.”

“Like a cannon but smaller,” the assassin laughed.

“Yes. Activated by a rune of kenaz, of fire, to ignite the black powder on my command.”

ᚲ- Kenaz

“Not the most accurate weapon,” she looked up at me as blood began to soak her shirt.

“Well… it’s a work in progress.”

She chuckled. For a moment we sat there, me exhausted, her bleeding to death.

“I’m a hybrid too,” she said suddenly. “Dwarf mother, human father… kinda funny I’d end up getting killed by one.”

“Hmm,” was all I could think to say.

“No big questions?” the assassin asked as blood started to pool under her. “Like who sent me?”

“…What is your name?”

Her eyes widened. Then she sighed. “Andrea. Not a name you’d expect for an assassin but…” her eyes closed slowly. She fell onto her side from where she’d been kneeling, cheek pressing onto the blood soaked floor. “My name… is Andrea.”

Her eyes closed. Her breathing slowed. And I watched in silence as she died.

I didn’t move for a long time. I felt numb. She’d been trying to kill me. And now she was dead. I didn’t know how I felt. Or even how I was supposed to feel.

After I had been standing in the room for a while, I heard footsteps rushing towards me. I lifted the gauntlet, only to remember that I’d used up the one charge of black powder I’d put inside it. I’d need to create something more rapid-fire. Something to think about later.

It didn’t matter. Jennifer appeared at the door. She looked at me, pointing an empty gauntlet at her. Then at the assassin on the floor. When she looked at me again…it was as if her eyes had a physical weight to them.

Then she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me. I fell to my knees, the closest thing to a mother that I had hugging me close, and stared at the body of the woman I’d killed.

------

“Arthur was placed under a sleep spell,” Jennifer said as I boiled water for tea. She sat at the table that Katya and Hasha had been having their ‘classes’. As I heated the water in the fireplace, she flipped idly through a text on geological magic. “He’ll be out for the next few hours. You said she said her name was Andrea?”

“Yes,” I said stoically, letting the familiar motions of making tea calm me.

“Hmm. Haven’t heard of her. But then, you never hear about the best assassins. That is the point after all.”

I nodded, understanding. Then I asked one of the many questions burning inside me. “How did you know she was coming?”

“Because I keep track of things like this,” Jennifer closed the book in her hand. “Every robbery, murder, drug deal, and assassination. If the business is dirty, I try to know about it. And I cut off any of those endeavors that are too stupid or risky. As any slaver who has ever operated in this city knows.”

I took the water out of the fireplace and poured it into the pot I’d prepared, watching the steaming liquid pour over the chamomile and rise slowly upwards.

“So when one of my girls got wind of a contract being put out on you, I immediately intercepted it. Unfortunately, this ‘Andrea’, was already on her way. So I came, and stopped her. Or, I suppose you stopped her. I stopped the demon.”

I thought of the massive creature, of its overwhelming presence. “How did you do that?”

“Do you remember why you no longer speak to me?”

A shudder passed over me. When I looked at Jennifer she was giving me a very calm look. “Nothing less can kill a demon, Char. I am no dragon, for all my power. So I cheat. And that is the method that works best.”

I pushed the thought of that horrific moment away to meet eyes with Jennifer. “Did you ever find out who made the contract on my life?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” I selected to tea cups, nice ones for special occasions, and brought the tea over to her. “Someone deciding to finish the orcling off?”

Jennifer scoffed, watching me place the cup before and pour her tea. “No. I’ve seen more than a dozen contracts like that. Jarvin, while not a fan of them, tends to be safer for hybrids than most places, but I do see some try to kill the neighborhood hybrid for whatever reason. I tend to make sure those get ignored. No, this was something different. Someone paid an enormous amount of money to get this done quickly, and they used a fool as a proxy. A fool who has no idea who gave the order. This is not the work of a random man with a hatred of orcs. This is something to do with your new client.”

I remembered Katya speaking about Richard’s overprotectiveness. Something about assassins.

“Why me then?” I poured out my own cup and sipped it. “Why not try and kill her?”

“Rather coldhearted of you,” Jennifer noted. “What makes you think they haven’t sent anyone after her today?”

“Did they?”

“No,” she smirked. “You’re right. Of the people in the Prophesied Child’s circle, only you have been targeted,” when she saw me frown at that, she leaned forward to put a comforting hand on mine. “Char. No other contracts will be made on you. You have my word.”

I looked down at her hand on mine. After an awkward silence

With all that had been going on, I hadn’t had time to think about Jennifer. About what to do about her. The closest thing I had to a mother had turned a man to charred meat, fought a trained assassin to a standstill, and somehow killed a demon. And that time… my mind continued to recoil at the mere thought of it.

She had also saved my life. She’d never hurt me, now or ever.

I was a magic user. I prided myself on my logical mindset, my ability to analyze things and come to correct conclusion. Jennifer had something dangerous inside her. But then, so did I. When I’d smashed that dwarf into a wall. When I’d beaten those knights. That dark anger within me, driving me to do whatever it took to survive.

In fact, the assassin may have been the first person I’d hurt without that rage. And I’d killed her.

How could I continue to treat her like a monster, when I knew full well what that meant?

“I,” a cough cut me off. Jennifer looked at me as I sipped more tea. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve uh… I missed you.”

Her jaw dropped. She stared at me, shocked. Then, slowly, she started to smile, eyes bright with unshed tears.

“I missed you too, my dear child,” she said softly. She finished her tea and rose. “I’ll take care of Andrea’s body. You get some sleep. And remember that I’m here if you need to talk, okay?” I nodded. She looked into my eyes for a moment, then pressed a palm to my cheek. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be right here whenever you need me.”

The only answer I gave her was a nod. She smiled, then walked towards the workshop. I took another sip of my tea.

I killed someone.

I sipped my tea.

I was a murderer.

I sipped my tea.

Her name was Andrea.

I sipped my tea.

------

I managed to get an hour or so of extra sleep. It wasn’t very good. My dreams now made far too much sense now. But it was rest, and I felt a bit better after waking up. Arthur and I had breakfast. Like Jennifer said, he had slept well. In fact, he seemed more at peace than usual. The body in my workshop was gone. Only the scorch marks on the inside of my gauntlet’s barrel and the dozens of throwing knives resting on my workshop table told the story. I almost threw out the knives before looking between the triangular weapons and my gauntlet. Getting a bit of an idea, I put the knives away for later.

An hour after I woke, I was back to work. The sound of a hammer on metal, the feel of a file carving out material, they all served to comfort me with the familiarity of old motions. I worked the chestpiece to shape using a rounded stake, hammering into shape. I made sure to use a piece of chalk as well. By dragging the chalk over the chestplate, I’d be able to see with spots were raised, and which ones were low, and flatten the piece further.

I used a scraper and file to work out the engravings on the metal. The chromoly steel was so tough, that my muscles burned as I worked, even without runes further increasing their durability, but I still managed to do the job as efficiently as possible.

As I worked, I made sure to mark out the runes as well. While I was still sore from the curse of paralysis, I could still use magic and move relatively normally. Once I felt ready, I began the process of melting the gold dust Richard had bought, adding in the hair I’d gotten from Katya. First, I placed the gold dust in a bowl on top of the hot forge, letting it slowly melt. As it melted, I slowly took drops of molten gold on the tip of a thin piece of hard stone that had been soaked in oil. Then I slowly let the drops flow into the engravings I’d made in the armor. With the raidō rune, I’d could add gold and other objects to the armor, and be assured that it would join the make-up of the armor. This gold would not be as strong as the steel around it, but it would be far tougher than normal gold, which tended to be very soft, and would be able to withstand the heat treatment I’d be doing later.

Once I was done with that, I began work for the backplate while the engraving cooled and the raidō symbol consolidated against the chromoly. Arthur had done a good job getting the backplate prepared, but I double-checked the whole thing. On realizing I’d been off on my calculations, I cut off a bit from the section where the armor would be going over the shoulders. Done with that, I used an old paint paintbrush to begin making the ornate markings along the back. They would move in towards the chestplate, joining into the center design.

In order to do the design, I’d decided to use the resist method. In this case, using some simple nail polish Jennifer had given me a long time ago, I painted the design along the steel. The nail polish would ‘resist’ the alchemical acid I would follow up with, leaving the surface underneath almost untouched by comparison. I diluted the nail polish in acetone every once in a while, and made sure my hands were steady as I worked.

This was one process I’d be using of course. I’d need Hasha’s alchemical process to create certain things, to further work the chromoly steel the way I wanted and so on, but I was otherwise well on my way. Heat-treating, tempering, polishing, engraving, and making more steel, adding in the bronze pieces, working the smaller pieces. It was going to be hard.

But I could already tell this armor would be even better than my last.