The first few days after the testing have been a whirlwind. First, the absolute joy of attuning to both blood and fire. The validation of my past training. And then the floor had dropped from under me when I learnt that Elias had not attuned to anything. I will forever remember the haunted look he had looked at me with, and that my attunement would come between the two of us.

It took him days to speak to me, and to some extent, I think that was because of how alone he was in his cell. To think that my brother, someone I considered closer to me than life, was considered a weakling? Clan doctrine dictated that he be disowned and thrown out of the clan to work as a mere guard. I had been furious when I found he was locked up, nearly strangling the poor guard until he croaked that this had been ordered by my parents. I took this issue up with my parents and their helpless and regretful look had dulled my anger, and I knew they were right when they explained that clan rules were written as such.

The thing was, for all his indolence when it came to combat training, he was there for every fire training. The meditations, the study sessions, using fire to do art, to forge, for any and all the training. To think he lost out by sheer luck and was cast out by clan rules. For a solid week, I fumed, taking it out on my training partners and savaging the beasts I fought.

In the end, I came to a conclusion. Two conclusions, in fact. The first, if the clan can decide that my brother is to be humiliated and separated from his family, then I have to reach the point that I can change the rules and reinstate my brother in glory. The second, now that the fool is only going to learn how to fight as a guard, what would he do when fighting Temperers? I would need to start building some influence, if not for a distant General post, at least for my dearest Elias.

To that end, the deal I had negotiated with King Dresal helped out immensely. Normally, a Temperer would usually get an Armament to bond within the master realm, given the prohibitive cost of making one. And one that was perfectly customised? That would only be standard among grandmasters. Thankfully, I had the king’s favour that would grant me this weapon when I am only at the practitioner stage. Naturally, the weapon would be much easier to make as opposed to making one for an experienced practitioner with more requirements.

There was a benefit to getting the weapon at such a nascent stage, beyond having a better weapon and time to get used to it. All Armaments could grow stronger and be only limited by the amount of time the Armament spent with the user.

There were legends, after all, such as the Praetorian Armours of the Empire of Midas, a legion or armour that continued to function as protective colossi, living on in undying service even after their original wearers had passed. While only one as rich as Midas could afford to outfit a whole legion with Armaments when young, the wealth he had displayed had led to its dissolution. Nevertheless, an Armament is prohibitively expensive, and it’s clear the king’s favour had a lot to do with me receiving the weapon.

Words could not begin to describe how excited I was to receive this weapon. It was to be such a pivotal instrument in all my plans for the future. Even now, I find myself doubting my fortune that the king had agreed and that I had fulfilled his condition. I already knew how I wanted it to look like. After all, I had spent hours and hours experimenting with various weapons, to find what I was most comfortable with.

I had learnt the basic of every weapon, after all, but in the end, I selected two. I had decided to choose between a longer-range weapon like a spear or the like for stopping cavalry charges and keeping the enemy at range and a shorter one for the chaotic melees that most battles would devolve into. A halberd, able to both cleave and pierce, and an axe, for closer battles and of similar enough form to the first weapon that I hoped to be able to transfer expertise from one to the other so that I waste less time.

To make the weapon, I would need to meet the royal Grandsmith, likely the only one in the entire kingdom who could create the Armament. Not much was known about him, except that he only works for the king, and that he lives somewhere in the castle compounds. How I wish Elias was here with me to meet this mysterious legend. I’m sure he would have enjoyed the meeting as much as me.

The week after I attuned to the blood-fire, I received the royal notice to make my appearance before the king to be measured for the weapon. The messenger who had passed me the message had reminded me that training clothes should be worn for the test. That had relieved me because as much as I liked my fancy clothes, I dreaded the whole ceremony and pomp of preparing to meet the king. No time to waste, as they say.

I ran straight to the king’s palace, entering through the side after being cleared by the guards. I was brought to a grassy meadow surrounded by a few houses, along with a conspicuous double-storied stone house that puffed clouds of soot. Entering the house, I met the fabled Grandsmith, someone I had imagined to be old, wizened, or at least with white in his hair. The man that stood before me was someone was a man in his prime, a lean man with muscles rippling. I had planned to greet him respectfully before beginning the procedure for designing an Armament, but the words slipped out of my mouth in confusion.

“Aren’t you supposed to be old? You don’t even have any big muscles? You are the Grandsmith, right?”

The moment I spoke, my eyes widened in fear. My excitement has led me to blabber foolishly! Woe be me that I let my curiosity potentially offend someone as respected and important as the only Grandsmith in the kingdom! Before I could make an excuse how my eagerness had loosened my tongue, or to bow in apology, the man spoke in a gravelly voice.

“Oh? To think anyone other than that brat would dare to speak to me so candidly? Who might you be little one?”

Inwardly bristling at being called little, I nevertheless tempered myself to avoid another insult, and replied, with a little more respect in my voice.

“I am Darius Holstein. I recently attuned to blood-fire, and I came here with the permission of the King. I just wanted to tell you to thank you so much for agreeing to make -”

“Bah. And I thought someone with spine had appeared. Speak as you did before. It was refreshing. So you’re the blood-flame kid huh? I think you already have an idea of how it should look. Describe it.”

“Very well, Sir Grandsmith. I plan on fighting on the battlefield as a warrior of the kingdom as well as individually as an expert in my own right. My weapon would ideally be a weapon like a heavy halberd, that could control the fight at a distance or against mounted weapons. I like to use an Axe as well. The weight of the weapon should be -”

“And he turns out to be a chatterbox. Enough with the conditions kid. I only asked for an idea of how it should be. Sheesh, kids these days. Papa, I want a sword. Papa, I want a dagger. What’s after that? Papa, I want a sword attached to a dagger. Wants this wants that. The only thing he doesn’t want is to make up his darned mind! Anyway, I’m going to need you to perform some tests, for me to get an idea. Halberd and axe right? There’s a weapon rack in the shed outside. Show me what you got.”

I grab a halberd from the weapon rack that was leaning against the entrance to the Grandsmith’s house. Hefting the polearm, I step on to the grass patch and swing a few times experimentally. Having gotten a feel for the weapon, I begin to swing as if I was fighting imaginary enemies. I use sweeping strikes to destabilise my enemy and several fast thrusts to poke holes in their defence. In the case that the enemy is unable to regain their footing, I bring my halberd crashing down to the ground, wedging the blade firmly into the soil.

Taking a breath to regain my strength, I repeat the process with different moves, mixing in those that I use for fighting beasts and those for people. Along the way, I begin to incorporate my comprehension of blood and fire into my moves. At the blades of my weapon, an ever so slight crimson flame burns, mixing my comprehension of the blood intent “Bleed”, and the fire intent “Explode”. My strikes make far more noise now as every strike violently displaces the air around it. I have yet to try it on live enemies but I imagine any wound that could draw blood would cause it to burst out of their body.

At the Grandsmith’s command, I change to the axe, using more cleaving strikes and slashes and moving around more as opposed to when I used the halberd. I swung and swung going through all the forms I had mastered. Eventually, my legs began to tremble and my head began to pound. I dropped the axe and just laid on the floor, chest heaving and sweat pouring from what must have been over an hour’s worth of demonstrations. My muscles all felt like wrung cloth, all energy squeezed out, and I was satisfied with my performance.

After a while, I had rested enough as to regain the clarity to focus on what I had come here for. Curious as to whether my demonstration was enough, I turn to see the Grandsmith’s reaction. To my surprise, he is standing arms crossed and brows furrowed, saying nothing. I decide to leave him be, I imagine designing Armaments couldn't be easy. I think back to what I showed to the Grandsmith. I stare at the sky, feeling the warm soil on my back, through the drenched training shirt I was wearing, thinking. I had the nagging feeling that when I used the axe, something was missing.

Hacking and slashing was great when fighting large numbers of enemies, but what about heavily armoured ones? My plan for the future includes becoming strong enough that I can render armour useless, like by cooking them from the inside or stopping their hearts. But the questions is, in the meantime, what would I use to pierce? The halberd has the spear tip that works. But an axe doesn't. Do I carry a rapier with the axe? Should I even allow myself to get bound trying to learn 2 different styles of fighting? I start getting bothered with the weapon choice to ask for the Grandsmith, even going so far as to question what I had already requested. Eventually, I decided to leave it be and push the nagging doubt to the back of my mind.

Some time goes by, and I am startled by a shoe nudging my sides. I sit up, surprised to see that the sky had turned dark. Somehow, the lovely weather and the soft grass combined with the exhaustion of the display to lull me into sleep. I look up, seeing the slightly amused look of the Grandsmith, looking down at me. Embarrassed, I quickly stood up and gave a slight bow of apology.

“No worries, I needed the time to draft out the equipment anyway. Lovely meadow isn't? I used to lie down like that as you did, with my grandson and we’d watch clouds pass by. Nowadays he’s all busy being important and now has time for his grandpa. Anyway, come in and I’ll show you what I’ve got planned.”

He has a grandson? Curious. I place the weapons into the rack and scurry into the house behind him. I refrain from asking about his grandson, however, still mollified by my initial disrespect. I follow him through the hall of the lower floor into a wood-panelled room filled with shelves and scrolls. The musty smell that greets my nose is a testament to how long the room has been used for its purpose of designing and storing design, a reflection of the man’s experience.

Rolled out on a large wooden table in the middle is the design for the weapon, intricately detailed with measurements that I didn’t understand. The less I understood the more excited I got, this was clearly going to be amazing! The Grandsmith must have noticed the excitement within me because I noticed his lips going up in a smirk as he started to explain the features of his design.