The uniford organizer regarded Vivi with far less sympathy than Angall had. “What you start the competition with is what you have till the end,” he said. “We have no spare tools.”
“Can I go buy a new one?” Vivi asked.
“Stepping out of the competition’s premises will result in a disqualification.”
“Is there any way at all I could get a working vise?” Vivi asked. “Just for a few days.”
“I’m afraid your competition might be over,” the man said.
Vivi looked up at him, trying to find any weakness in his self-serving face. “I can pay you ether,” she said.
“Ah, an attempted bribery,” he said. “What was your na again?”
Vivi frowned. This wasn’t going to work. She needed a different approach. “Nevermind,” she said and turned around, heading back toward her workstation.
Maybe she didn’t need a vise. The vise’s job was nothing other than to hold the ether root still. If she could sohow glue an ether root to a surface, she wouldn’t need a vise.
Lucius? Vivi asked. Can you use your spirit powers to stick the root to the ground?
“I doubt it,” Lucius said. “I can hold it in place, but I’m not good at ddling with physical objects for extended periods of ti. Especially not if I need to control the flow at the sa ti. I could press it in place for ten minutes at most. Then the root will start slipping. Or I’ll start moving. I’d also need to glue myself in place. It would be too hard.”
She bit her lip. She could possibly craft a single-runed sword with simple veins just by holding a root in her hands, but a sword like that would have been far too embarrassing to showcase. Vivi would rather craft nothing at all.
“You’re still here?” Angall asked, while working on his own project. The outside-veins of his single-runed red hardsteel shortsword reached three fourths to the tip. He carved a simple Hank’s pattern. The project wasn’t ambitious, but it was confident and solid. The sound of his carving knife was far more pleasant than Frewell’s.
“I’m thinking of sothing,” Vivi said. “I need sothing to hold the ether root in place. Maybe I can sohow carve it into the ground?”
“May I ask, what are you actually making?” Angall asked.
“A runesword, of course,” Vivi said. “My Grandpa invented a new thod of runesmithing.”
“I see,” Angall said. “Interesting work. I’ll have to stop by the Lost Raindrop to see what it’s all about.”
“You’ll see
complete a sword today,” Vivi said. “I’m not losing this competition. My custors would be mad.”
Angall continued carving. “Did soone seriously bet five hundred ether on you?”
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Vivi nodded. “I told him not to, but he did anyway.”
Angall laughed. “My own wife wouldn’t bet on . Not in a million years.”
There was silence for ten seconds. Vivi was thinking of solutions, when Angall said, “I’m about to finish my sword. I’ll need maybe a few hours. I’ll lend you my sword vise after that.”
Vivi’s head perked up.
“It’s not as strong, so you’ll have to treat it with care,” Angall said. “But it’s probably better than nothing.”
“Really?” Vivi asked. “You’d borrow your tools? For soone like ?”
“We’re all old grumps here,” Angall said. “Frewell is young, and he’s thirty-five. Runesmithing will die off if we don’t help the new generation. I’ll let you use my vise. After I finish, of course.”
“You’re actually entertaining this girl?” Frewell asked. “She’s a human you know. When is the last ti you’ve heard of a human runesmith?”
“I don’t hear anything but nagging these days,” Angall said. “Might as well let this girl complete whatever she wants to complete.”
“Wow,” Lucius said. “Is he actually nice? That’s surprising.”
He is a runesmith, Vivi thought. Of course he’s nice.
“I’ll wait,” Vivi said. She sat down and bowed. “I promise to repay this.”
Angall gave her a look. “For a start, stop staring at . I can’t endure two hours of attention from a young girl.”
“Sorry,” Vivi said. She sat on her anvil and turned in the opposite direction, keeping her eyes on the ground.
How much ti did she still have? Just over three days. If Angall completed his sword in two hours, Vivi would have just enough ti for another two or three attempts. After that, she really needed to move to the next two steps. With the tal she chose, the blacksmithing phase would probably take at least a day or two, especially considering she had chosen a tal she’d never worked with.
She couldn’t do anything but wait. She sat on her anvil underneath the hot facets, hoping that Angall would hurry up. She wouldn’t want him to give up his own project for hers, but the wait was making her far more nervous than she would have liked to be.
“What if he betrays us?” Lucius asked. “He could waste our ti for nothing.”
If he does, there’s not much we can do, Vivi thought. I trust him. He reminds
of Grandpa.
“Every old man that is vaguely grumpy reminds you of him, Vivi.”
Vivi didn’t respond. She kept her eyes on the ground and waited, focusing on the vision of the sword she wanted to create. The previous idea she’d had was good, but in a way, it was excessive for the sake of being excessive. Perhaps she could improve on it?
The desire to win filled her head. She didn’t know where it had co from. At the start, Vivi wouldn’t have cared if her whole workplace blew up. She would have called it a day and headed ho with mild disappointnt.
Sowhere along the way, she started to care. Maybe it was the judging glares. Maybe it was the amount of effort she put in, hoping to truly craft an amazing sword. Or the cheers that the runesmiths of top split kept receiving.
She was taking part in a runesmithing competition in Shivenar, competing against the world’s best runesmiths. Of course she wanted to win.
“Well, then, Vivi,” Angall eventually said. “What do you think of this one?”
The dwarf freed his sword from the vise and showcased it with a grin. The sword wasn’t finished—the runes weren’t carved yet, and he hadn’t applied conductive paste, but the most tireso job was done. Just like vein-shaping was the soul of inside-carving, vein-carving was what separated good outside-carving runesmiths from great ones. Angall was beyond good. His sword was far more proficient than the ones around him.
“It’s good,” Vivi said. “But I’ll craft sothing better.”
“I’ll be surprised if you do,” Angall said. “But I’m rooting for you.” He unscrewed the sword-vise from his table and lifted it to Vivi.
“Are you sure you won’t need it?” Vivi asked. “You still need to carve the runes and apply paste.”
Angall dropped the vise on Vivi’s small plot and flicked his wrist dismissively. “It would be useful, but you need it more. I’ve carved runes in worse conditions. Applying paste is as easy as buttering bread.”
Vivi breathed in. Her heart was beating. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Angall shrugged. “Stop thanking
and get to work. Show
who built you, Slum Smith.”
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