The hallowed mark in my chest began spreading as New Year's Eve was nearing. Every time I played my part as a wife, I found myself alone in silence. It was annoying, devastating even. But I shouldn't fall apart. After my usual routine, I decided to head to the greenhouse, where no one could disturb me. I filled myself with music, arts, and crafts, where I found myself proud whenever I finished one masterpiece at a time.
"This is nice," I muttered, grinning as I looked one more time at my first painting that had been twice my size. I painted a scene of an open field with a pack of animals running freely, where on a hilltop, a figure of a woman sits with her wolf watching them. This scene was the exact scenery I had dreamed of before. "I miss you, Sigbin."
As I muttered my wolf's name, I heard clattering coming from the fenrir's painting that I hung on a clean wall. I sighed and checked the painting alongside the other displays. I frowned as I found nothing, but there was a sudden air coming from the painting itself. Instead of being a jumpy cat, I curiously stared at the painting. In a few seconds, the fur of the Fenrir began moving as the air touched me. I stepped back, not in fear but to see the entire painting, and somehow, the Fenrir was gone. I blinked once, twice, and for the third time, the Fenrir showed again. I was relieved, but something was different. At the Fenrir's paw, I squinted my eyes only to see rare types of minerals that can be used in crafting magical weapons.
"Am I hallucinating?" I frowned, rubbing my eyes, and it was still there. I stepped closer, touching it delicately, delicately, when something swirled around my wrist, binding, and then, jolted. I gasped because the minerals vanished from the painting. "I shouldn't be surprised by this because I'm a werewolf–wolfless werewolf." I tried to ignore it for a couple of minutes, scribbling on my sketchpad and only looking surprised at what I've drawn. "Seriously, now I'm thinking about having my own swords when I haven't mastered my strength yet. But maybe, I could try something."
I quickly grabbed my sketches and went to the blacksmith within the mansion's knight's quarters. I carefully walked, searching for a smith until I saw Xerxec. I called him out and asked about the best blacksmith in the Knightrose, and without asking, he showed me the blacksmith area where a dwarf and a werewolf were.
"Master Vornin, Lumar, this is Lady Bernila, the queen's wife. She wanted to talk to you about something." Xerxec caught the men's attention, who immediately bowed as they acknowledged our presence.
"I'm from Dwarven Tribe, a master sage smith, Vornin Stoneforge, Lady Bernila." The dwarf man introduced himself and addressed me with respect.
"I'm Lumar Stoneforge, his adopted and a master smith." An almost my same age man introduced with politeness, before wondering, "What can we do for you, my lady?"
"I've got two weapon designs which I would like you to check if you could forge them," I asked carefully as I handed my sketchpad. There are two types of words that were drawn in detail.
There was silence, heavy and thick as they studied the drawing carefully. They even talk fast, pointing out something on my sketch, and sometimes, they move around the forging area to check their materials to see if they are full.
I looked at Xerxec, who shrugged his shoulder before whispering, "They're in their zone."
When they were done assessing the designs and their materials, Master Vornin answered. "We could create them, but who's going to use them?"
"Me?" I answered skeptically because I knew they wouldn't believe me, since I'm still looking weak.
"Are you sure, my lady?" Lumar asked carefully, trying not to offend me. "These designs were complicated and had weight."
"I am complicated – I mean, I'm still in the middle of changing," I answered sternly before adding my idea. "So, I'm thinking if these can be made with an enhanced ability to grow with me, is that possible?"
Master Vornin's eyes widened, but there was a spark of interest in them. "Rare but possible." He answered carefully, studying me. He's quiet, carefully checking me before asking for permission. "Excuse me, my lady, but can I further into your soul?" I was beyond confused, making him chuckle and adding, "I just need to look into your eyes, my lady, because if we're going to create these swords, it should be based on you."
"I see, I understand. Go ahead." I replied, letting the old man check my soul, and just a second, Vornin lost his balance. He groaned, and when I stepped closer in worry, he quickly cowered, gravelling. I found it weird, but I asked. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay, my queen. I'm just surprised." Master Vornin replied politely, but I could sense something else - loyalty and respect. And then he continued, "I mean, you're indeed complicated, but..."
But before he could finish his words, I felt my wife's presence, and Mirxalyn spoke firmly, "But she's my wife. She's my equal."
"My queen." They all bowed, and I didn't.
"What is she doing here? Isn't she busy?" I mumbled softly, staring at her unreadable expression.
She glanced softly but quickly masked it. She checked my designs before turning to the smiths. "You two have created my conquering sword; create them for my wife." She commanded, decided already. "Be sure it'll be safe for her to wield them, but enough to grow alongside her." But she stopped leaving the forging area, demanding, "Finish it smoothly before New Year's Eve."
"Yes, my queen." They responded politely.
My eyes widened, and my jaw hung open. I watched her pass me and said, "Don't think much. It's for your safety, too."
I glared at her retreating back. "Annoying wife." I whispered, ignoring her sudden appearance and softly faced, hoping they'll allow me to be around the forging, "Master Vornin, I'll help during my free time since I love crafting."
"Do you want to start now, Lady Bernila?" Lumar asked with friendliness, and I nodded enthusiastically. "Great, I've been dying to try blacksmith."
Within twenty-four-seven and a few more hours at dawn, we made it. I made it. On December 31, I crafted my first swords, and it was a very nice New Year's gift for me. I was overjoyed. Like a kid receiving her present, I hugged and kissed Vornin and Lumar's cheeks as I could not contain my gratefulness. They let me try the swords at the blacksmith quality check area, and with one quick pierce from the rapier sword and one full swing from the scorpion whip, the dummies quietly fell into pieces. They gasped at how fast I moved, and I squealed, jumping a little.
"THANK YOU! I'LL TREASURE THESE!" I was showing my toothy grin which I only wear whenever I accomplish something.
"According to the legends, naming weapons will gain life and reflect their name as their power." Master Vornin said gratefully and ushered me, "Name them, my lady."
"I will, but I have to think of their names carefully," I said, grinning, before I hugged them one more time and left the blacksmith area. "I'll let you know their names when I pick some."
I was filled with joy as I skipped innocently toward the greenhouse, holding my first created swords against my chest, humming. As I got inside, I placed the swords on the steel crafting desk before I skipped near the Fenrir's painting, where I created a secret compartment within the shelf. I grabbed the rare minerals from earlier and placed them around the swords.
Unfortunately, I'm not fully aware of what I was doing. It might be that my tiredness was already creeping because my body had been moving on autopilot based on muscle memory, which I had no idea where it came from. I just let my body move.
"This will do," I mumbled, still humming. I started the masterpiece on my swords by delicately engraving words like 'united souls' to 'everlasting lovers'. I was engrossed, which caused me to forget time until I was done. "This one is Conquering Piercer." With thrill in my tone, I named the rapier sword as I thought of Mirxalyn's imperious side and sharp edges. Then I picked the scorpion whip sword, a type of sword that can expand into sharp whip blades. "And this one will be called the Punisher."
As I felt proud and contented with the names, my eyes widened, and I gasped. The minerals began glowing like a beating heart before the swords magically absorbed them. When the rare crafting minerals vanished, with no trace, both swords ignited with different colors before they illuminated the entire greenhouse. It was blinding, and the heat was overwhelming. Then there it goes again – explosion.
"Great," I muttered, coughing. "I've created an explosion instead of fireworks." I coughed with sarcasm, and then I heard fireworks outside. Despite the dust, I glanced up to the glass ceiling, trying to clearly see fireworks displays firing up to the night sky, realizing that I skipped New Year's Eve with the family. "Great way to celebrate the New Year."
Due to the explosion, I knew the family would hear it, and they would know who caused it. I could already see the amused expression of Mirxalyn's father once he heard this, and I wouldn't be able escape that.
Inside, I was coughing, waving my hand to dust away the dirt around me, but it was too foggy when strong arms draped around me, helping me sit up. Mirxalyn's voice asked carefully, supporting me from the side. "Hey, are you okay?"
"Dust caught my eyes," I answered, rubbing my eyes a little before she pulled them away and blew the remaining dust away from my eyes.
"Better?" She asked gently, and I nodded. She pulled me closer, where I heard a faint beat, and magically relaxed my tense body. And then I heard a curious voice asking, "What are you doing here, and caused an explosion again?"
"I'm not experimenting." I quickly defended myself, pulling my body away from hers. "I'm serious. I'm not, I just…I don't know." I tried to reason, but even I couldn't exactly explain how I ended up creating one. It was not the same as before. Instead, I took a deep breath and told her what happened, "I mean, my body moved on its own, infusing the minerals that magically came from the Fenrir's painting on my first crafted swords over there."
Mirxalyn's expression darkened, and she looked over the hanged Fenrir's painting that she had done before. She was staring at it for a few seconds before sighing. She even cupped my face delicately, pressing her forehead against mine, where I could feel my mark stung a little.
She pulled away and kissed them, easing the pain before carefully staring into my eyes. "Don't make me worry too much."
"You had a different way of showing it," I said softly, hoping I didn't sound broken.
She clenched her jaw, battling whether to tell me what I needed to know, and yet, she didn't, "I had my reasons."
I sighed. "I had my entire life to listen to them," I said sarcastically and pulled away, but I'm still hoping. "So, please, Mirxa, I want this marriage to work. I want us to work…please…"
"I want it too." She said softly, and as I was close to losing my consciousness, I heard her greetings. "Happy New Year. I can't promise, but I'll make it up to you."
That's how my New Year's Eve happiness from crafting swords turned into an unwanted explosion, hoping I would forget about it for the latter. Unfortunately, they remembered, but I'm more intrigued by her words.
"I hope she'll keep them," I whispered in hope.