Oscar silently observed the materials the scruffy-bearded man brought. On the stone table were Stormsteel ores, glinting with teal gems, azure cores of a grade-three Exalt beast, long bones that resembled spines, beaks, and the scaled-down model of a spear. From all this, Oscar gathered his task was to forge a spear armant suited for Exalts of the wind elent, an elental armant.
'This can't be right. Crafting an elental armant can't be the exam. That's too far out of one's depth.' Oscar glanced at the sleeping man, his snores mixing with the roaring of the furnace's flas, and frowned. Stormsteel was a rare ore that contained elental wind, mined from ravines and mountains where sharp winds stord ceaselessly. Ores of elental powers beca more frequent for grade four ores but not for grade three. Even in the Burning Valley, where fla, tal, and earth reigned supre, he only found one or two ores of elental power.
The sleeping scruffy-bearded man never woke up despite how loud Oscar shouted and tried to get his attention, still in a deep sleep. Cursing over on his way to the furnace, Oscar gathered the ores and dropped them into the furnace. The flas hissed when the ores were placed in the furnace. These flas contained a dense Ein that was fueled by treasured grade-three lumber and had already worked on the Stormsteel. The ores began to redden, the teal colors deepening.
Steam plud from the reddened tal, and bubbles lazily boiled and burst along the surface. The entire set of ores had reached the boiling point, and Oscar moved them to a spot with lower flas to let them be idle until needed. He turned his attention to the spines and beaks, the basis of the shaft and tip of the spear.
Oscar tapped the spines with his hamr, sending in his Ein to get a feel for the configuration of nodes. His hamr rose high and pounded on a spine, but it slowed before it could strike the bone. An invisible force was resisting, repelling his hamr from causing any damage. It was the remnant will of the beast that lingered in its bones. Collecting materials was easy as the powers remained dormant, but doing anything else with it spurred a reaction. Oscar scoffed and glared with fierce intent, his hamr overpowering the rejection and landing on the spine, cracks spreading from the point of contact.
'First spot's done. Now for the next.' Oscar swung smoothly to the next node he believed would unravel the complex formation. Bit by bit, his hamr covered the spine in cracks. Second by second, the rejection of the beast diminished, only mustering a feeble defense near the end. In a final attack, Oscar smashed his hamr on the last node and broke the spine apart, crumbling it into powder.
He repeated the process for the other spines until he had a bucket's amount of powder. Now the ti ca to refine the beaks. Oscar overwheld the resistance in the beaks and created fine dust out of them, storing them in another bucket. Sighing in relief, Oscar motioned to wipe off his sweat, knocking his hand on his helt. A faint chuckle resounded from his tubes as he poured the spine powder down the tall kiln and fanned the flas to burn until its embers reached the top of the kiln. After quenching the flas with the provided grade-three Cryofes oil, he harvested the pellets and started the flas again, fanning them to a point where he could drop the beak powder inside.
Filling the two buckets with his newly refined pellets, Oscar retrieved the ores from the furnace and placed them on the anvil. His hamring echoed through the heated workshop, clang after clang as tal bashed against tal. The Stormsteel proved itself a worthy tal, very sturdy but also strangely bendy, rebounding so of his strikes back. Hitting it with insufficient power would be detrintal, even if he hit it in the right spot. Furthermore, the faint elent of wind attacked at tis, a fierce rejection of his refinent.
'I can't do any more than this.' Oscar stared at the Stormsteel plate, his hamr trembling from how hard he clenched his hamr. The state of the Stormsteel was only at eighty-five percent purity, a testant to the trickiness of elental ores. Oscar dropped his hamr on the anvil with a loud slam and quenched the plates, focusing on passing the exam. He had all the ti to get acquainted with elental ores later.
It was ti to move on. Oscar placed the refined Stormsteel bars in two crucibles, mixed the beak pellets into one, and poured the spine pellets into the second. This process grew more complicated as it went on. Oscar retrieved the two crucibles after everything lted together and poured the two out into a mold for the shaft and a mold for the spearhead. He easily destroyed the remnant will within the core and extracted two parts of the inner formation, one for a sharp tip and the other for flexibility.
Images of various constellations passed through his mind, and Oscar selected the most suitable one, the constellation of Kudelai, the spear of the morning. He imagined himself in the sa constellation, wielding the spear with powerful yet flexible swings and hardened piercing stabs.
With the elental power of wind being carried within the Stormsteel and the idea of using the spine as the base of the shaft with the flexibility formation, Oscar inferred the spear had to be incredibly flexible like a serpent and beco one with the great gales. Just the constellation of Kudelai would not be enough. Oscar sweat on his brow and pondered how to modify the formation to suit such a spear.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not ant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
'Should I have the flat stars almost twist around like a snake?' Oscar's idea struck him like a hamr to his head. The Kudelai had stars in three lines, two on the outer to outline the shaft and a third line in the center, straight down to the spearhead. 'Instead of a straight line, make them seem like they're coiling around like a serpent, twisting to highlight its flexibility.'
Oscar imdiately went into action, hamring away at the shaft first. He focused solely on the image of the new constellation with the beast's core formation as a base, imagining himself wielding the spear with the great powers of wind. At a certain point, he attached the mold of the spearhead, allowing the two mixtures to connect.
He moved the formation to the spearhead and focused his Ein to start the link with a fresh new node. However, as soon as he did so, a sense of foreboding clouded the image of the constellation he had. His hamr halted above the nearly completed spear. His hesitation grew into a long pause. Oscar felt the spear would not be complete if he continued down this path. Gol-4 and his master, Draven, always told him to trust his instincts and experiences. Each one scread at him to stop or else fail.
'What am I missing?' He cracked his neck, not comforted by the usually satisfying sounds of joints popping. Tapping his hamr on the anvil, he never withdrew his gaze from the unfinished spear, still molten, barely in a hardened shape, and glittering with the nodes of his premature formation. What was he missing? Oscar smacked himself on the helt to settle his thoughts, trying to focus.
After an hour of thinking and ignoring the scruffy-bearded man's snoring, Oscar stopped his tapping, still like a statue. His eyes glinted as his head turned his left hand. Ein gushed from his hand and coiled around into a golden drill, the twisting lines innurable but all condensing into a fine point.
'So that's it. The formation must carry its coiling into the spearhead. Only then will the two beco whole.' Oscar tested out his theory, continuing where he left off. This ti, with new revelations, Oscar hamred the sa twisting of stars into the spearhead, the formation slowly linking the head and shaft together as he worked his way up. Excited, he poured out a trendous amount of Ein onto the final node on the very tip.
The formation shone brightly and overwheld the furnace flas. Oscar pumped his fist and hamr into the air at the result before quickly quenching the spear in more Cryofes Oil. With this final touch, the spear humd and flowed with Ein, the birth of a new armant.
"Oh, it's not bad at all." Oscar held the spear in his hands, gazing at the long weapon. The spearhead alone was as long as his head, coiling into a fine tip. The shaft could be bent to a shocking degree at a right angle.
"Are you done?" The scruffy-bearded man yawned as he rose from his stool and wobbled over to Oscar. His small beady eyes scrunched at the spear and turned to the refined materials. He held the bars of refined Stormsteel and pinched the pellets of beak and spin, a strange look as if he was confused on his face. "Did you really refine this? Are you serious?"
"Excuse . Did I do anything wrong?" Oscar asked.
"No. No. You did really well except for a little problem here. I made a mistake. Hahahaha." The scruffy-bearded man chuckled weakly.
"A mistake?"
"Yes. Well. You see…." The man coughed to clear his throat. "I mixed up the materials. These were supposed to be for to refine later. You were supposed to receive a different, easier set."
"Are you serious? Is that even possible?" Oscar took off his fabricator helt, his cheeks blushing red from the heat and the faint anger building in him. "What happens to the test now?"
"Sorry. mory fails you in old age. I'm quite old myself. Still, your skills are noteworthy. Able to refine this tal and create this spear with a coiled tip. What Anima do you possess?" The man asked.
"I have a Deer Anima."
"A Deer?" The man's small beady eyes nearly popped from their sockets. "Not even a beast related to fabrication or a tool. Interesting. Very interesting."
"What about my test?" Oscar brought the silent man back to reality.
"Ah, yes! You have passed. Here is your three-star fabricator badge. Congratulations, fellow fabricator." The man bowed slightly.
After receiving the new badge, Oscar felt better and sighed in relief. With this new identity, his ti in Convecia should be way easier. A surge of pride made him smile. He was sure if Gol-4, his master, and Aunt Rosett were here right now, they would be exclaiming in celebration. Two weeks. He needed to wait only two more weeks to get ho.
"Your previous badge indicates your branch from the Farsky Continent. Are you from there?" The man seed to be brooding over sothing.
"Yes, I am. I desire to leave this place and return ho. I'll help out in the guild until the next portal opening." Oscar bowed, feeling sothing ominous from the man's solemn face. A flicker of worry sweated down his cheek.
"I advise against it. From what I hear, the entire continent is ravaged by war." His words rang low and clear.
"A war?" Oscar dropped his hamr and closed in on the man, his blood running cold despite the fierce flas spewing heat. His plan was to gather information earlier, but with the man's words, he found an opportunity to find out. However, the sudden shift in the man's deanor was alarming. "What has happened to the Farsky Continent? Is the Blue Ocean Pavilion still there?"
"Calm down!" The man freed himself easily from Oscar's grasp. He patted down his wrinkled clothes and scratched his beard. "I understand if it's about your ho, but always be calm." He waved Oscar and Erden over to exit the workshop and led them into an idle room to speak. "Who would have thought a Divine Essence existed on that continent?"
"How is it?" Oscar asked, his heart dropping from the anxiety.
"The war's been going on for years now….Are you really going to throw yourself into that hellish landscape?"
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