The requirents to forge the imperishable sword were staggering, to say the least.
…Unlike anything Alden ever expected.
He innately understood that Elder Grimnar had to work with sothing in order to create sothing. In other words, a material input was essential to the crafting process. Alden had thought maybe that would co in the form of an expensive yet common enough ore.
Unfortunately, not only did he have to scavenge for an extrely precious ore rarely found, it was also inside an environnt where death was so abundant, so regular, that it almost made fighting a horde of Defiled more attractive than traversing it. Second only to the Pyre Peaks and the crash site of the teor, this vast oceanic region terrified Alden.
Add to that the absurd sum of Mana Crystals he had to gather, and it all pointed towards the fact that he would have to delay his plans of wielding an imperishable sword, until he was strong enough to retrieve the materials necessary to craft it.
The white-haired young man sighed, his mood turning downcast. He shifted his gaze towards Drakon, who had a slightly apologetic look on his face.
Alden shook his head, indicating that there was no need for the red-robed heir to feel sorry. After all, the flar wielder had compensated him, following through on his end of the deal, even if Alden's remuneration may take a little longer to co to fruition.
'What a flimsy excuse to help cope.'
He chuckled to himself.
Shaking off his glum thoughts, Alden thanked the elderly dwarf and bid him farewell.
The crafter harrumphed, but still gave him a snide word of encouragent, sothing which surprised the Keeper's Apprentice greatly.
It seed the dwarf had a soft side beneath his gruff exterior. Either that, or the honorary elder was just looking forward to the challenge of forging an imperishable sword.
'Probably the latter….'
Although, Alden hoped there was a small possibility of the forr.
Alden followed Drakon back up through the Citadel of the Ember Clan, the winding corridors no longer as eerie as before. The duo returned to the room where they held their discussion prior to eting Elder Grimnar, and Alden promptly followed through on his agreent, swearing a magical oath not to divulge what he had just seen.
Then, he also agreed to cease his enterprising activities in writing, signing a beige scroll made from old parchnt that would be legally binding in the court of Fla - an audience with an Elder of the Ember Clan, and a random selection of mundane and awakened who served as the jury.
The scroll forbade him from selling his cores in any market of the Sanctuary, irrespective of the Territory. The docunt also declared he would be prohibited from using Ignia to create any advantage in terms of purifiying cores.
With that done, Alden was free to go.
"Thank you."
The Ember Heir dipped his head in gratitude.
Alden reached out, accepting Drakon's handshake.
The young n lingered, an unspoken conversation passing between them. Alden nodded gravely, and Drakon's expression also turned solemn. They stood outside the Citadel like that for a mont, light snow falling around them. One of the small flakes fell right between them, on their outstretched hands.
"Good luck with the Elders."
The corner of Alden's lips twitched into a small grin.
Drakon smiled bitterly.
He laughed good-naturedly and patted Alden on the shoulder, masking how he felt.
Soon, the Keeper's Apprentice was on his way, heading back ho.
Behind him, an extraordinary set of auras blanketed the Citadel of the Ember Clan like a sea of scorching fire - as if the heavens themselves were displaying their fury.
…A ghost of a smile graced Alden's face.
***
During his journey back ho, Alden sensed the buzz and anticipation in the Sanctuary swell, as if slowly reaching a peak. The upcoming Festival was planned to start once night fell, so there were many people rushing about, trying to complete any last-minute preparations before then.
"Co on, lads! Move y'er nates!"
Alden moved out of the path of a pair of young, sweaty n hauling a wooden wagon filled to the brim with planks, bulbs, wires, and other equipnt, as the individual he presud to be their guardian, sat with the tools in the back.
He also witnessed several kids running and giggling, their faces half painted with reddish-orange paint and other extracts - evidently, preferring to dash through the light snow than to decorate themselves.
As it was the turn of a new year, the children usually wore a small outline of a fiery phoenix on their cheeks. However, not all adhered to that, with so opting for more serpentine creatures, while others simply settled for more basic drawings, either out of a sense of frugality or convenience.
Alden had never really understood the fuss. At most when he was younger, he had just dipped his fingers in the paint and streaked it across, uncaring for how it looked. He rembered being softly admonished for that, and Celeste pouting because he hadn't been as excited to celebrate as her.
Alden's expression turned soft at the mory.
Unfortunately, this Festival promised to be different. Not only were they older, which ant that any charm they once held for the festivities would most likely fade away, but also because they had gained a greater understanding of the world, and thus were infected with a maturity they shouldn't possess.
…Of course, there was also the whole issue with Celeste and their separation, which only made the idea of the Festival less appealing in Alden's mind.
He sighed, his breath kicking up a thin cloud of mist. Finally, after so more walking, he arrived ho.
Alden entered the warm abode, greeting Ignia enthusiasticly as she dove into his arms.
"Oh, Son. Great timing. Co and join us for lunch."
Alden quickly took off his fur coat, and washed his face, before heading over to the dining table. There, he greeted his father and mother warmly, and sat down, his stomach hungering for food.
The trio ate a simple al, consisting of various cuts of at, and pickled vegetables. Celeste was noticeably absent, a fact which made Alden a little sad and uncomfortable.
Where was she?
What was she doing?
He didn't like being kept in the dark.
…Was this how she felt when he kept things from her?
The realisation only increased Alden's misery.
"Hey, Mom, do you know if Cece will be back in ti for the Festival?"
The older woman paused mid-bite, her expression turning contemplative.
"She should be."
Elara nodded.
Alden accepted the information and refrained from asking about the whereabouts of his precious love. He made eye contact with Alistair, and then averted his gaze a second later, still feeling a little guilty.
"Thanks for the al."
He hurriedly stood up, only to be stopped by his father.
"There's a letter waiting for you upstairs. I left it on your desk."
Alden nodded, grateful.
He quickly left, leaving Ignia in the care of the Guildmaster and his wife.
He entered his room.
Alden paused.
True to his father's word, a sealed letter lay on his desk. It ca in the form of high-quality parchnt and a wax seal of an owl and a key-like quill. It took a mont for Alden to recognise the badge.
However, when he did, his muscles instinctively tensed.
After a quick glance of its contents, Alden groaned and released a turbid breath.
He reluctantly headed for the door.
...The Keeper had summoned him once more.
Reviews
All reviews (0)