Roxy's Point of View
The Rapan market was as bustling as ever, but my mind was elsewhere. We walked among the stalls of spices and fabrics: Elinalise with her elegant stride, Talhand with his heavy tread, and me, trying not to get lost in the crowd.
— "It seems you're quite serious about this," Elinalise commented, looking at me out of the corner of her eye with a smile I couldn't quite decipher.
— "Well, it's the least he deserves," I replied, clutching the box against my chest. "Paul agreed to use this part of the loot for him. Arthur played a crucial role in the labyrinth; we can't let him return home unarmed. Besides..." I lowered my voice, remembering the image from the day before, "...I saw him looking at the hilt of his broken sword with such sadness. I know what that weapon meant to him."
We had selected some of the rarest mana stones from the Hydra and a strange metal found at the bottom of the treasure chamber. It was invaluable material, but to me, it was priceless if it served to compensate for the loss of his bond with his grandfather.
— "Are you sure, Talhand? Will your friend be able to work with something so unusual?" I asked, unable to hide my nervousness.
— "Of course, Little Miss. Trust me," Talhand replied, thumping his chest. "That dwarf is the best smith I know on this side of the world. If anyone can turn Hydra scales into a decent blade, it's him."
Talhand stopped in front of a stone shack from which thick gray smoke billowed. He pushed aside a heavy leather curtain, and we entered. At the back, a dwarf with incredibly broad shoulders and a beard braided with iron rings looked up from a glowing anvil.
— "Talhand, you piece of rock... I told you not to come back unless you brought something worth my time," the smith grunted in a thick voice that vibrated through the walls.
— "Shut your mouth, Gorn," Talhand replied with a smile. "I've brought you something better than gold. I've brought you a challenge."
I opened the box. Gorn approached, dropping his tongs. Upon seeing the Hydra scales and the crystal, his small eyes went wide. He ran his calloused fingers over the metal with almost religious reverence.
— "This... this is Deep-Vein Dwarf Carbon Steel. It's an incredibly dense core, one of the rarest I've ever seen... and this is pure Manatite!" Gorn whispered, excited and desperate to begin.
— "Well? Are you in or not?" Talhand challenged him.
— "I'd be an idiot not to. Working with these materials is a smith's dream," Gorn exclaimed, practically snatching the box from my hands. "Tell me, what do you want? Armor? An axe?"
— "I want you to make a sword," I said firmly.
Gorn put his hand to his chin, analyzing the materials. Then he looked me up and down.
— "Is it for you?"
— "N-no. It's for a boy. He's about fifteen or twenty centimeters taller than me," I explained, trying to keep my composure.
— "Ah, I see. A gift for your partner," he said with a knowing smile.
— "Pa-partner?! No, no! He's a... he's a very important friend," I stammered, feeling my cheeks flush.
— "Right, right, whatever you say," Gorn laughed before turning serious. "Listen well, young lady. This is what I'll do. I'll use the carbon steel for the core. It's heavy and dense; the only thing capable of withstanding a high-ranking warrior's Touki without shattering. But the secret lies here in the Manatite Hydra scales: I'll pulverize them to create a coating. The result will be an anti-magic blade; enemy spells will simply slide off the edge."
He took the magic crystal with surprising delicacy for his rough hands.
— "I'll inlay this into the guard as a catalyst. It will help the wielder's mana flow with minimal loss. But there's a problem: this alloy is fickle. If it cools too slowly, it stays soft; if it's too fast with regular water, it cracks. I need a perfect quench."
Gorn looked at me intently, evaluating my ability.
— "From what I see, you're a mage. Tell me, are you capable of using a high-tier Ice spell to cool the red-hot blade the instant I give the order?"
— "Y-yes, I can."
I swallowed hard, feeling the suffocating heat of the forge and the weight of the responsibility. If I failed, I would ruin the materials and Arthur's gift.
— "I can do it," I said with a determination that even surprised Talhand.
— "Then get ready, little mage. We are going to create a sword that can rival legends," Gorn declared, beginning to stoke the embers.
A time of preparation later—
The heat of the forge was blistering. Gorn, bare-chested and with skin tanned by thousands of hours before the fire, moved with amazing efficiency. The crackle of the red-hot metal and the rhythmic hammering filled the room.
My task was crucial: the quench with Absolute Zero. I prepared myself to chant the spell, ready to be released at the exact moment.
Gorn submerged the Dwarf Carbon Steel core in the fire, masterfully stoking the coals. The metal glowed with an incandescent white. Then, with prodigious strength, he pulled it out and placed it on the anvil, striking it with his hammer. Each blow resonated in my bones, shaping the future blade. Sparks flew from the metal, illuminating the dwarf's concentrated expression.
After some time, Gorn introduced the tempered steel core into a crucible where the Manatite Hydra scales had already melted into a bright, silvery liquid. The coating process was a marvel of dwarven engineering, making the core absorb the manatite without rejecting it.
Once the blade had its almost final shape, with a dark metallic luster flecked with the green glints of the manatite, the critical moment arrived.
Gorn put it in the embers one last time, heating the blade until it reached a bright red, almost white. The heat emanating from it was so intense that even Elinalise took a step back. The air crackled.
— "Now, mage! Don't fail me!" Gorn roared, pulling the blade from the fire with giant tongs. The metal glowed, emitting an aura of pure heat.
I took a deep breath, concentrating my mana. My hands rose, and a frozen blue aura began to surround them.
— "Absolute Zero!" I exclaimed, releasing a burst of mana that enveloped the glowing blade.
The workshop filled with a deafening hiss as the fire of the metal clashed with the absolute cold. A thick cloud of steam rose, hiding the forge and Gorn for a moment. The air turned frigid, and small ice crystals covered the stone walls.
When the steam finally dissipated, the blade lay on the anvil. It was no longer red-hot. Instead, it shone with a deep blue color, almost black, with iridescent veins of a faint green that recalled the scales of the Hydra. There were no cracks, no visible weaknesses. The surface was smooth, perfect.
Gorn picked it up carefully, his eyes shining with an admiration rarely seen in a smith of his caliber.
— "Perfect!" he grunted, a rare smile appearing through his beard. "Absolutely perfect! Not a single flaw! This is the most exquisite blade my hands have ever had the privilege to create."
My heart pounded with a mixture of relief and pride. I had done it.
Gorn let the blade rest for a few minutes so the residual cold of my magic could finish stabilizing the molecular structure of the steel. Then, with a delicacy that contrasted with his rugged appearance, he began the final steps.
— "We're not done yet, little mage," Gorn murmured as he headed to a shelf full of precision tools.
First, he took the Hydra's Magic Crystal. With a diamond-tipped chisel, he carved a perfect notch into the sword's guard, right in the center of the axis. As he fitted the crystal, it emitted a pulse of turquoise light that ran through the entire blade, illuminating the manatite veins as if they were blood vessels flowing with a life of their own.
— "Look at that..." Elinalise whispered, approaching with genuine curiosity. "It's as if the sword were alive."
— "It's the catalyst connecting with the core," Gorn explained. "Now, the handle."
Gorn took a piece of Black Oak, known for its hardness and ability to absorb sweat, and meticulously wrapped it in **Earth Dragon leather** dyed a deep blue, almost black. He secured the grip with braided silver filaments, ensuring the weapon would never slip from Arthur's hand, no matter how bloody or intense the battle.
Finally, Gorn used a polishing stone moistened with whale oil to give it the final finish. With each pass, the blade revealed an oily, lethal shine.
Gorn lifted the sword with one hand, testing its balance. The blade cut through the air with a whistle so sharp it made my skin crawl.
— "Perfectly balanced. The center of gravity is exactly where it should be," the smith decreed. He held it out to me on his open palms. "Take it. It's heavy for you, but for that boy, it will be like an extension of his own arm."
As I received it, I felt it was still cold to the touch, but also felt a warm vibration coming from the crystal. It was beautiful. Imposing. It was, without a doubt, the most powerful weapon I had ever seen.
— "Thank you, Gorn," I said sincerely, feeling a lump in my throat.
— "Don't thank me," he grunted, returning to his anvil. "Thank destiny for putting those materials in my hands."
We left the forge with the sword wrapped in thick cloth. Talhand put a hand on my shoulder, proud, while Elinalise looked at me with a softer smile than usual.
I looked at the bundle in my arms. The sun was setting in Rapan, tinting the sky orange. During the walk from the forge to the base, Talhand and Elinalise told me some of their adventures from when they formed the "Fangs of the Black Wolf" until we finally arrived.
I stopped in front of Arthur's door. My heart was beating hard, much more so than when I faced the monsters of the labyrinth. I straightened my tunic a bit and took a deep breath to calm my nerves.
"It's just a thank you, Roxy. A simple gesture for an... important friend," I repeated to myself, though I knew it was much more than that.
Before knocking, I ran my hand over the thick cloth covering the sword. Gorn had also given us a reinforced dragon leather scabbard with silver plates, designed to withstand the constant friction of such a sharp blade. It was dark, sober, and elegant—just like him.
I raised my hand and finally gave three soft knocks on the wooden door.
— "Arthur? Are you there? It's Roxy... can I come in?"
...
Arthur's Point of View
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, letting my hand sink into Fenril's soft fur. The wolf's tail wagged rhythmically at my touch, oblivious to the storm of thoughts clouding my head. I stared at the wolf. Now the future was uncertain; this time there would be an incredibly drastic change thanks to my presence in this world. Besides, there was another problem.
I let out a heavy sigh, rubbing my temples. Without my sword, I felt strangely vulnerable, as if a part of my body were missing. I knew I could use magic and all, but...
Suddenly, three soft, rhythmic knocks sounded on the wooden door. I tensed by instinct, but a familiar and sweet voice came from the other side.
— "Arthur? Are you there? It's Roxy... can I come in?"
"Roxy?" I stood up quickly, straightened my shirt a bit, and opened the door.
There she was. The orange glow of the sunset streamed through the hallway, outlining her small figure. She looked... nervous. Her fingers gripped a long bundle wrapped in thick cloth, and her eyes, usually calm and wise, avoided mine for a second before fixing on me.
— "Roxy... sure, come in," I said, stepping aside. "Is something wrong? You look a bit agitated."
She entered slowly, letting the scent of flowers and... charcoal? from her tunic fill the space. She stopped in the center of the room and turned to me, extending the bundle with both hands.
— "I know how much you valued your previous sword. Arthur, you played a big part in the labyrinth, you saved us... You saved me. Paul and the others agreed that this is only fair."
I stood paralyzed as she unwrapped the cloth. When the fabric fell to the floor—
— "It's for you," she whispered.
Before my eyes appeared a dark dragon leather scabbard with silver reinforcements, but what truly took my breath away was the hilt. A braided silver pommel and a turquoise blue crystal embedded in the guard that glowed with an internal light.
Slowly, I reached out and wrapped my fingers around the handle. A chill ran down my spine. It was cold, incredibly cold, but as soon as my Touki made contact with the steel, the sword vibrated in perfect harmony. I unsheathed it just a few centimeters, and the sunset light hit the black blade with iridescent veins.
— "This is..." My voice cracked. I could feel the trace of Roxy's mana in the tempering of the steel. I could feel the strength of the dwarven core. "Roxy, this is too much... I can't accept this. The materials, the work... this must have cost a fortune."
— "It's not a fortune, Arthur," she interrupted, taking a step forward. Her eyes shone with an intensity that made me forget how to breathe. "It's so you can protect yourself and the people you love in the future. We forged it for you... I helped with the tempering myself."
I looked at her, shifting my gaze from the magnificent sword to her flushed face. It wasn't just a weapon; it was her concern, her time, and her magic, all poured into a piece of steel to protect me
— "It's the most beautiful sword I've ever seen in my life," I said with total sincerity, sheathing it with a perfect metallic click. I set the weapon on the table.
Without a second thought, I closed the distance between us. Roxy, surprised by my sudden move, gave a small start but didn't back away. Her eyes went wide, reflecting the sunset glow and a spark of vulnerability she rarely showed.
Without a word, I wrapped my arms around her in a firm, warm embrace.
I felt her tense for a moment, her small body almost disappearing against mine, but then she let out a shaky sigh and relaxed, resting her head against my chest. Her hands, still trembling slightly from nerves, rose slowly until they rested on my back, clutching my shirt.
— "Thank you, Roxy," I whispered near her ear, smelling the soft scent of flowers that always followed her. "Not just for the sword... but for how you looked after me and helped me."
She remained silent for a moment, enjoying the contact. I could feel her heartbeat, fast and erratic, competing with mine.
— "Promise me you won't do something so reckless again," she murmured, her voice muffled against my chest.
I pulled back a little so I could see her face, keeping my hands on her shoulders. Her face was completely red, but she didn't look away. At that moment, "Mage Roxy" wasn't there; only the woman who had stayed awake taking care of me was, the one who had put her own mana into the steel of my new weapon.
— "I promise," I said seriously. "I will use this sword to protect you too, and I will take great care of it."
Roxy looked down, trying to hide a shy smile, but failed. Fenril, who was watching us from the bed, let out a small bark and jumped to the floor, rubbing against both our legs, breaking the tension of the moment.
— "A-all right," she said, regaining some of her usual composure while adjusting her tunic. "You better. Gorn would be very angry if you broke his masterpiece."
I let out a small laugh, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. I looked again at the sword on the table, its dark scabbard shining with a promise of power and protection.
— "By the way, Roxy... does it have a name?" I asked curiously.
She shook her head as she walked toward the door, stopping before leaving to give me one last look filled with affection.
— "I thought you should be the one to name it. After all... it's part of you now."
With that, she left the room, leaving me alone with Fenril and my new companion. I approached the table and took the hilt once more. The turquoise crystal pulsed softly under my touch, as if responding to my thoughts.
— "A name, huh?..." I murmured to myself.
Fenril approached and sniffed the guard, letting out a small grunt of approval as he sensed the mage's mana in the leather of the handle.
I thought of her. Her effort, her shyness, and the implacable strength of her water magic. It needed a name that was strong but carried her essence engraved in every letter.
— "You were born from her magic and her care..." I said, as the turquoise crystal in the guard glowed with the same intensity as Roxy's eyes. — "Your name shall be... Roxaria."
The moment I spoke the name, the sword seemed to emit a vibrant hum. The crystal pulsed with an intense light.
I sheathed the sword with a fluid, firm motion. The "click" as it locked into the dragon leather scabbard sounded like a vow. Now, I felt complete.
I stroked the scabbard one last time before blowing out the candle.
— "Thank you, Roxy. I promise that Roxaria will never stop until we are all safe from whatever threatens our lives."
End of Chapter