Chapter 1.5:

The afternoon rush went by in a flash. Without realizing it, we were already closing shop for the day.

I stretched my arms to get rid of the cramps from holding the same position over several hours.

I looked at the time and glanced to Paul who was also trying to shake off the soreness from the day’s work.

“Aye, that’ll be it for today, boys. Go on. You have some time before supper. I’ll wrap up here.” Abram said without looking up from the ledgers.

“Thanks, pa!” I said excitedly as I headed in Paul’s direction.

“Wai-” Paul protested, but I had already grabbed his arm and dragged him to his work station.

“Leggo!” Paul grunted as he extricated himself from me. He shot me an annoyed look and gave me a small punch in the arm. “I thought you wanted me to tell you what I’ve found out about your unique skill?”

I scratched the back of my head in embarrassment. “Um. Yeah! Definitely. But I just wanted to know whether you got a chance to look over the… you know.”

Paul gave me a smug look. “Oh-ho! I can definitely see where your priorities are at these days, little bro.” He gave me a knowing wink and his dark brown eyes were glinting from glee.

I lowered my head. “Just tell me.”

“Ahem.” Paul cleared his throat. He picked up the sword on his desk and held it out to me. “I actually got a look at it this morning before I headed to the academy. It’s at 99% potential already, little bro. As good a place as any to stop.”

Yeah, but 99% isn’t a 100%.

I shook my head and Paul groaned. “Bro. Seriously, that 1% isn’t going to mean much. In the first place, this is already made from Grade S magic ore. It’s already leaps and bounds stronger than the standard grade magic weapons in the market. If it had an enchantment or a spirit manifestation, it would outclass even some artifacts.”

I nodded along to his recurring spiel.

Paul sighed as he watched me. “But you’re not going to listen.” Paul held up his hands in exasperation. “Why do I bother?”

“Sorry, bro. I just want it to be perfect. It’s rare enough for me to get to work with Grade S ore, but I’ve also been told that I’ll be able to enchant the blade with a rare material.” I said coolly.

Paul looked shocked and he smacked his forehead with his palm. “Ah crud. Guy told you already? I told him to hold off until you finished your project. That was supposed to be a big surprise.”

I gave Paul a hug. “Thanks bro for that.”

I could feel Paul tense from the sudden hug and he patted my back awkwardly. “No problem bro. I got the idea from my travels. Enchanted weapons aren’t really too much of a thing here compared to enchanted tools because almost every notable family who could afford them would have their own artifacts. Commoners usually only have access to them through enlisting in the army but I’m sure you’re well aware that weapons have a short lifespan when used in Desert Hell so weapons are really only enchanted based on need.” Paul explained as he stepped out from my hug and started rifling through his envelopes until he pulled out a thick notebook.

He opened it and showed me several diagrams and annotations on enchanted weapons in the West. “Yeah, I met a friend who told me enchantment was commonplace in the West Continent. It’s rarer to find bare magic weapons in their commerce. He showed me several examples of their common reagents. I spent some time sketching them down, as well as his explanations for each.”

I was entranced by the wealth of information in the notebook. “Paul, can I borrow this?”

Paul considered me for a moment before smiling. “Of course. In fact, you can have it. I’ve committed most of it to memory.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “What must it be like to be so perfect?” I said mockingly.

“It’s alright.” Paul grinned. He tousled my hair affectionately and grabbed the blade. “Come on. Let’s get to your workshop so I can teach you what I’ve learned.”

We descended the staircase, and I turned on the lamps.

Paul deposited the blade near the forge and made a beeline for my work table. He reached out under the drawers and pulled out a small white rectangular box. He looked at me for confirmation and I nodded.

Paul undid the rope bindings and opened the box. He pulled out a kris knife from within.

“You have to admire Lord Chase’s dedication in finding dead artifacts.” Paul mused. “I don’t even recognize this insignia.” He traced the small lion head engraved on the bottom of the knife handle.

Paul held the knife in his hand and activated his Appraisal magic.

“This… this has a lot of potential. It’s close to the mana limit of the Crimson Talon.” Paul commented.

I winced at the memory of the knife that I once cherished.

Can’t believe it’s been so long already.

“So it’s a good match for Lady Mina?” I asked.

Paul shook his head. “Not exactly. It has a wind nature. But the spells it has can boost physical attributes temporarily. Could still be helpful for her.”

I nodded my head and stared at the knife.

I wonder how long it’ll take for me to crack you.

“Remind me again. How many have you unbound the past two years when I was gone?” Paul asked.

“Two.” I replied instinctively.

“Two… and then there was the Petrels’ sword. And the mace that took you a few years… So four in total over six years.” Paul recounted.

“Hang on.” I replied defensively. “You can’t count the mace since I was still figuring it out. I’m basically doing one a year.”

Paul chuckled. “Ease up, little bro. I’m not putting you down. I just wanted to clarify your progression.” Paul held up the knife near the lamp and stared at it intently. “Based on what you’ve already figured out on your own… How long do you think it would take you to unbind this?”

“Maybe six months?” I replied apprehensively.

Pretending won’t do me any good. Six months should be more than enough though.

Paul was deep in thought for a while. “Well, I bet we can do it tonight if we put our heads together.”

I looked at Paul in shock. “Are you serious?”

“Does it look like I’m kidding?” Paul retorted with a steady gaze.

“How?” I pressed, a little taken aback by his confidence.

“Well, tell me your process, like step-by-step on how you think your magic activates.” Paul answered.

I brought out my own notebooks and handed them to Paul.

“Basically, I figured out that the right imagery requires me to really memorize every single detail about the artifact… I have to see it clearly in my mind and allow it to dissolve into dust. Then, like forging, I need to re-create the artifact from the dust to its original form, precisely as it was.” I explained.

“It’s never worked without a complete image?” Paul asked as he flipped through my notes containing all the kinds of imagery I’ve used for each artifact.

I shook my head. “No. If even a small bump or indention is off, it doesn’t work.”

Paul considered my statement for a while. “That doesn’t sound too impossible. Especially for you since it’s related to the skill set you need as a blacksmith right? Being able to imagine the exact form your bladework would take even before you take your first swing with your hammer? There’s gotta be more to it. What stops you from just trying and trying until you get it right?”

I sighed. “I deplete all my mana at some point.”

Paul started scratching his chin. “Interesting… So the imagery isn’t complete but your body activates your mana still… Do you know what exactly triggers the mana release?”

I shook my head. “If I did, I wouldn’t struggle so much. I have to stop whenever I hit my limit. If I don’t, I just collapse. I don’t really know what’s happening.”

“Mana exhaustion…” Paul started to get excited. “Do you channel mana before you start working on the imagery?”

I tried to recall the countless sessions I’ve done.

“I try to channel mana into my fingertips beforehand.” I replied. “Is that it? Is that when my mana is released?”

Paul started pacing around the room.

Suddenly, he grabbed some charcoal near the forge and then rushed over to my desk. He grabbed some parchment and fastened them to the table before starting to draw.

“I don’t think so. You took up basic mana theory in the academy, right? So you know that merely focusing mana within yourself shouldn’t expend it.” Paul started to explain. “Think of spell casting as trying to fire an arrow from a bow.” Paul started drawing a man with a bow in his hand.

“When you’re focusing your mana on one part of your body in preparation for casting a spell, that’s like picking up the bow and arrow.” Paul continued while adding more drawings. “Now, unless you have zero mana control, which is the case for small children and some unfortunate adults, no mana should be released since it’s still circulating your body.”

I nodded to show that I understood so far.

“Now, past the mana preparation stage is the actual imagery crafting. All kinds of magic require certain imagery, as you may know. They help give shape and life to your mana. That’s similar to you notching an arrow on your bowstring.” Paul continued, still drawing.

“When you activate your mana to release the spell, that’s when you exert effort to pull the bowstring back before letting loose.” Paul began drawing the figure to appear to be struggling to hold the bow steady.

“Finally, you let loose and the spell is cast.” Paul finished.

“Wait, but before when we were seeing if I could cast Appraisal, we didn’t go through the last step.” I asked, remembering my first ever lesson on natural magic a few years ago.

“Ah!” Paul suddenly got excited. “That’s the beauty of commonplace spells and magic. The imagery that’s passed on from master to apprentice invokes an involuntary trigger of mana release. So it feels like you’re skipping some steps. Think about when you trigger your fire magic to ignite your forge. Do you consciously think about releasing your mana?”

I thought long and hard and shook my head. “You’re right. I don’t think about it.”

“Exactly! A lot of thought and effort went into studying and refining the imagery required for our magical skills.” Paul commented.

“So does that mean, as long as you have an affinity for a branch of magic, you could learn any spell with the right imagery?” I asked. “Even my own ability?”

“Funny you should say that.” Paul got worked up again. “See, a lot of abilities in the past were thought to be ‘unique’ until they weren’t. Then they get downgraded to natural magic which most anyone could learn.”

“BUT!” Paul continued to pace back and forth in the room with this weird manic energy. “After consulting several scholars, including those who’ve done theses on their own unique magic, I’ve come to learn that there are true unique abilities.”

“You already know that affinity determines potential. Even unique magic, as discovered by Royal Scholar Navo in his treatises, are bound by this affinity.” Paul continued on. “But this class of magic is different in that despite two people having the exact same affinity parameters, it cannot be taught or passed on. Some Masters tried to pass on their unique skill for decades before giving up. These are ‘true’ unique skills.”

“That’s all very interesting, bro. But how does that help me master my own ability?” I asked, getting tired from watching Paul circle the room.

Paul gawked at my disinterest in the topic. “Ahem! My point is. Your ability, as far as we’ve seen, is most likely a true unique ability.”

I started to scratch my head. “I guess that’s something… I still don’t know how that helps.”

Paul started tutting. “Tsk. Tsk. Have a little faith, bro. What I’m trying to tell you is that all magic obeys the laws of preparation, imagery, and execution. That means as long as you have the preparation and imagery down, you can release mana on your own without evoking a specific image.”

Gears started turning in my head realizing what Paul was trying to say. “So you mean if we figure out what the fundamental imagery is, I can wield the ability at will?”

Paul gave me a thumbs up. “Exactly! My own thesis actually goes a step further and postulates that unique abilities are different in another way…”

“Such as…?” I asked, trying to urge him to finish his thought.

“Give me time for a dramatic pause, geez.” Paul complained. “Anyway, I postulate that unique abilities can fail.”

I stared at him. “That’s obvious, right? All magic can fail.”

“That’s too ignorant, little bro.” Paul wagged his finger. “Magic can miss. Magic can be deflected or canceled. Magic can yield no significant result. But it doesn’t usually fail. For example… what would happen if I appraise the air?”

“I dunno, nothing?” I answered.

“No, not nothing. The mana is still released, the air is examined, but it would yield no useful result. That isn’t the same as nothing. Magic works and interacts with the natural laws of the world. If you wash a rock, will it dissolve? Obviously, not. If you freeze air, would you get ice? No. You can’t create something from nothing. You can’t create life where there is none. Natural magic is called natural magic because it comes from within us, but also because it interplays with the laws of the world.” Paul expounded. “Unique magic breaks these laws in a particular way. When it is unable to, nothing happens but mana is released from you for the attempt.”

“If your magic is unique, then your experience confirms my theory. You reach mana exhaustion without realizing it right? That means your unique ability is releasing your mana for every failed attempt.” Paul added.

“How do I avoid failing then?” I pressed.

“Well, we have to isolate the imagery from the trigger through trial and error.” Paul explained.

“Great! Let’s get started!” I said, getting excited.

Suddenly, we heard a loud rasping knock on the door. Both Paul and I looked up the stairs to see Abram looking down on us.

“Boys, we need to get supper ready.” Abram chided.

“Coming dad!” Paul replied.

“Also, you two have a guest.” Abram added. “Hurry up.”

Paul looked at me curiously, but all I could do was shrug.

Who could it be at this hour?