Vivi felt like she was already perfectly ward up. She hadn’t felt this focused and determined in ages. Vivi knew exactly what she wanted to craft, and she was ready to do anything to turn her vision into reality.
She slid an ether root into Angall’s vise. This proved to be slightly problematic. The usual vises Vivi used had flat jaws that could tighten around anything. A sword vise, however, was designed to hold a sword from the hilt for an outside-carver. Fitting an ether root into its weirdly shaped jaws was a bit of a problem. She had to untighten the jaws all the way for an ether root to just barely fit. Tightening was scary. If she used too much pressure, she’d break Angall’s vise as well.
In the end, the ether root wasn’t tightened nearly as thoroughly to the vise as Vivi would have liked. But it was held in place. Vivi could get to work. The project would just be more difficult.
She stretched her fingers, picked up her tools, and thought, Lucius, initiate the root.
Lucius looked like he wanted to ask if she was really ready. He kept the question inside. He nodded, then said, “Let’s do this.”
The red mithril root cracked open, and Vivi found herself fully in focus. The facets attacked her with scorch from overhead. They’d done that for days now. Vivi was used to it. She wasn’t in Grandpa’s smithy—she couldn’t trick herself into the zone by believing nothing was wrong.
Vivi wasn’t in a smithy at all. She was sowhere much grander, where runesmithing was actually a respected profession.
Vivi’s new vise forced her to abandon the first vision she’d had earlier in the competition. Too much force could tip the ether root over, which ant Vivi had to work with smooth movents only. The Hank’s pattern was a no-go; any ninety-degree turns were impossible. Her usual aggressive style of vein-shaping was banned entirely.
Thus, any branches Vivi ford had to be smooth like vines. Any loops she ford were tender and careful. She had to treat every twist and turn like a caring mother. Calculating and precise. Her work didn’t appear like a tree branch anymore. The smooth branches were smoother, strangely beautiful.
The vision in her head improved as she worked on the first branch. As she ford loops, the paths for the second and third roots finalized in her head. Without sharp angles, calculating was even more important than usual.
A little less than an hour later, she cauterized the mithril stalk. She took a deep breath and stretched.
“Perfect so far,” she said. Without a pause, she carved the holes into the hilt for the next ether root. She picked up a palladium root.
Initiate the root, Vivi thought.
Lucius was just as concentrated. He had his eyes closed, focusing entirely on perfectly capturing the roots. Lucius kept getting better at his job. When he truly focused, the ether roots flowed like a calm rainfall—with grace and beauty that Vivi’s ether distributor could never have matched.
The second root passed as smoothly as the first. Vivi’s focus was impeccable. She didn’t rush, she didn’t get impatient. She treated every branch with care, preparing for the impending challenge of the third ether root.
She planned loops, narrow corridors, smooth but precise angles. Branches that took up more space than they should have, all to make the sword as strong as it could. Thirty minutes later, the second set of veins was completed without issues.
Vivi blinked herself back to reality and examined the work she’d just crafted.
Dear lord, was her imdiate thought.
The veins were tight. So tight that even with two-veins, it looked ready to be forged. She could have moved to the rune-carving step now, and ether would have been distributed across the tal well enough.
She had technically left space for a third root, but so of the corridors were tiny, so small that her smallest crochet hook would struggle to fit through.
“There’s always room to fit one more root,” Grandpa had said. “No matter how impossible the pathway, there’s always a way.”
Vivi began carving a hole for the third set of veins. She couldn’t go back to carve easier veins now. And she certainly wasn’t going to leave the sword with just two runes. She took deep breaths, tied her next root, an ensium root, into the vise, and stretched her fingers.
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
If this works, this sword better sell for ten million ether, Vivi thought. Initiate the root.
“Good luck,” was all Lucius said. He closed his eyes and focused.
Vivi, too, closed her eyes. The root was still making its way up the holes. Vivi didn’t need to guide it yet. She had a few monts to calm her nerves, to focus and trick herself into believing she wasn’t just crafting the most insane sword of her career. She ignored the inevitable fate of a set of veins this complex would realistically succumb to—she shoved aside the possibility of failure and focused on the task at hand.
The third ether root shot through, ready to be shaped. Vivi’s eyes shot open.
The first obstacles already forced her into absolute focus. She had no ti to curse herself for making the first roots so tight—every ounce of effort in her head was spent navigating the veins through loops, openings, the tiny cracks of space Vivi had left for the third root to pass through.
She didn’t count how many branches she had left like she usually did. She didn’t think of how much ti she had remaining. This was a ga of pure survival.
Around her, Vivi was vaguely aware of questioning eyes and chuckles of amusent from her fellow runesmiths. Weirdly, Vivi didn’t feel distracted. Nobody in the audience knew just how difficult this job was. They still thought she was crafting nonsense.
Their ignorance only strengthened Vivi’s desire to win. Nobody expected her to succeed in anything at all. Nobody in low split, and certainly nobody in top split.
As work continued, Vivi lost awareness of her surroundings. Her consciousness was runesmithing. All that existed around her was her crochet hook, and the next obstacle the veins of her ether root had to pass through.
She passed the halfway mark. Throughout the week, only three attempts had gotten this far, and none had been with veins as impossibly tight as this.
What would Zack Vanhamr think if his work was suddenly tested against the sword of a seventeen year old girl from the surface?
Her heart started to race. It had raced for the last fifteen minutes. Vivi was starting to feel it now. The nervousness near the end of the job was unavoidable. To be nervous was to care. Attempting to suppress the nerves was not the answer. To complete a sword, the only option was to ride along, to treat the nervous pressure in her stomach as a part of the process.
The project in her hands was the best sword she’d ever crafted… The veins were as tight as so of Grandpa’s best four-runed swords. She hadn’t made any mistakes so far. Not major, not minor.
If Vivi completed this, all of Shivenar would know her na. The sword would be placed into auction, where the richest nobles and the grandest warriors would set the price for Grandpa’s thod—the actual price he had sought for decades.
Vivi just had to complete the sword. She just had to…
Vivi breathed in. For a mont, she fought against the flow of concentration. Stop dreaming and focus, Vivi told herself.
She pushed ether into her eyes to avoid blinking. Lucius’s flow of ether was perfect; the root grew at a constant pace with no surprises. Vivi had never felt as connected to him as she did now.
Despite the deep breaths, her heart tried to escape through her mouth. Her ears felt like they were about to explode with pressure. She could hear her breathing at five tis its normal volu. Her fingers were filled with ether, and they still trembled from nerves. The facets above were losing their light. The evening was getting cold.
Vivi’s hands were losing it. Her focus slipped into dizziness. Her body was physically at its end. Reality didn’t make sense around her.
Just a little more! Vivi thought, wanting to grit her teeth. She continued shaping. Her body felt like an imminent explosion. Sothing was about to break.
The vision of her sword was slipping. She had no plan anymore; rely her years of practice guiding her hand. She passed the obstacles ahead of her with nothing but a survival instinct.
She continued shaping. She passed a loop, avoiding a crash. The stalks of the root were growing thinner as the ether root slowly ran out of power.
Vivi continued shaping.
Until, suddenly, no more obstacles awaited above.
Vivi blinked. She lowered her hand, staring at her work, mouth open in confused shock.
The ensium stalk had reached the tip, passing each and every loop, every obstacle, all the way to the very top. In fact, the branch had gone beyond, still eagerly growing, awaiting for more to co.
It was done. She’d reached the top.
Of the hardest project she’d ever attempted.
“Yes!” Vivi pumped her fist.
Lucius’s face was full of awe. “We… we did it! Vivi, we did it!”
Everything in her body escaped all at once. The deathly pressure she’d been holding back, the nerves she was forced to work with, and the trembling all over her body. An overwhelming wave of satisfaction washed through her.
“It’s done!” She sniffled tears. She couldn’t stop shaking. “It’s done! Lucius, it’s done!”
The third root finally stopped growing. Its stalks had grown past their target, but that didn’t matter. Vivi could always shave off excess growth.
“Lucius? Who’s that?” Angall asked. The dwarf stood underneath his canopy, looking baffled.
Vivi was laughing and crying at the sa ti. She didn’t care about appearances anymore. “I can’t believe it…” she said, speaking to herself. “It’s actually done. It’s…”
She pressed her hands against her cheeks. She didn’t think she’d ever have to fight back against the feeling of success, but she felt like she was going to explode.
“Vivi…?” Angall asked. “Is everything alright?”
“You don’t know how difficult this was to get right,” Vivi said. Another wave of laughter and tears escaped. People were looking at her weird. Most dwarves around her had already finished their swords. They’d been watching Vivi as opposed to working.
Angall glanced at Frewell and shrugged. Angall asked, “You think I leant my vise to a maniac?”
“Definitely,” Frewell said. “She’s a nutcase…”
Angall grinned. “So, uhh, what exactly have you crafted here?”
“This,” Vivi said, holding out her veins, “is the frawork for the best runesword you will ever see.”
She reached into spatial storage and summoned her crucible furnace. “Lucius, heat up the furnace. Let’s finish this.”
Reviews
All reviews (0)