"But... I will not teach you."
The words hung in the air, like a guillotine, being hung above, a criminal, awaiting their death sentence.
Twitch!
Kamish felt his eyes twitch involuntarily, after everything he had done, fighting dragons, gaining literal godlike powers, and having worshipers.
But now he was being rejected by a dwarf?.
"May I ask why?"
kamish couldnt help but ponder, wouldn't blacksmiths like the fact that one would ask to become a aprentice?.
The dwarf, who still hadn't introduced himself, crossed his arms and glared up at Kamish with an intensity that suggested he'd stared down worse things than a dragon in human form.
"Because yer a dragon."
"...And?"
Yer dragons destroy, start wars, yer kind burn down villages that take us decades to build, yer kind melts the very metals we spend years perfecting. But you destroy them, every master piece ive seen, every village I've seen has been ravaged by yer kind.
The dwarf's voice grew heavier with each words decades of his resentment were being borne upon Kamish.
"So no. I won't teach a dragon to forge. That would be like trying to teach fire not to be warm.
Kamish blinked. Then blinked again.
Is this... is this what it feels like to be discriminated against?
This brings back memories, those days, when I was blamed for that...
He had experienced this before the resentment of people bearing a grudge.
"It was your fault for their disappearances."
"If only you didn't force them that far."
memories I wanted to forget. the ones I forced myself to forget.
He was always blamed for his parrents disappearances by his own family, his aunt and grandfather were convinced of this.
For some reason i was the reason they were lost.
'But this... why does this feeling sting less than that...'
Kamish stood there, memories bleeding through the cracks of his constructed mental walls. His parents' faces, blurred now by time and trauma, appeared in his eye. The accusations and weight of guilt for something he never did.
"It's your fault they're gone."
"If you hadn't been such a burden—"
"They were running away from you when it happened."
Lies. All lies. But lies repeated enough times start to feel like the truth, don't they?
He would have been seventeen when they died, and I just graduated from high school.
just starting to figure out what he wanted to do with my life. And then, gone.
Murdered in what the police called a "home invasion gone wrong." Except nothing was stolen. Nothing was touched, just... two bodies and a traumatized son.
It was a cover-up.
Before Gates became known, they were simply occurrences.
That just happend portals leading to the other world of Suvirian. The portals linked them to us. leading humanity to gain mana.
but.
at the cost. of it being hidden till the invasion.
the goverment, hiden all. related to that incident.
"But what if I can change your mind?..."
I had to try; me giving up learning a valuable skill, and me giving up, doesn't sit well with me.
"Hah! And how would ye do that?"
"Tell me what's in your forge right now. What are you working on?"
The dwarf's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Why would I—"
"Humor me."
Kamish's voice wasn't harsh or commanding; it was almost like a plea.
"Fine. Got a broken katana in there. Commissioned by a dead apprentice of mine two years back. Promised the lad I'd finish it 'fore he went off to war. He never came back. The blade... It's twenty-two-fold steel. Was supposed to be me masterwork. Now it's just a reminder of what I couldn't finish."
Kamish could understand the sentiment, not finishing a weapon, of someone who died, as if trying to preserve that memory of the person, he was all to familar of this.
the blade. was crying?.
Or is it asking to be finished?
"Let me just watch you. That alone will be an experience of what I need. My eyes can perceive what you can not."
the dwarfs expression shifted. something else flickered in his hardened eyes, was surprise, or suspicion, maybe both?
"Perceive what I cannot? What kind of dragon nonsense is that?"
But Kamish could see it. The way the dwarfs hand unconsciously moved toward the forge's door. The slight softening of his jaw. This man wanted to work on it.
"Nothing of the sort, Dragons live long lives, we learn to... obverse. We see other Being's miss patterns and details. Just let me watch you work, that's all I ask."
The dwarf's jaw tightened as his fingers as it drummed against his crossed arms.
"Ye can think watching will be enough? Ye think ye can just see centuries of craft and understand it?"
"No, but who said i cant try?"
I spoke softly.
A long silence greeted me.
then with a grunt that sounded like a grinding stone, the dwarf turned toward the forge.
"one session. Yer Watch. yer don't touch, ye don't speak, until I ask you a question, and if I decide ye're wasting my time, ye will leave, do ye understand."
The dwarf spoke in a harsh tone.
"I understand."
He began softly.
"The Name's Borin. Borin Ironfoot. And if ye're gonna stand in me forge, ye'll use it."
"Thank you, master Ironfoot."
Borin waved a dismissive hand that pushed open the heavy door.
The forge hit Kamish's nose.
head rolled out in waves, carrying the scent of metal, the space was surprisingly organized- tools hung on walls in precise arrangements, ingots were stacked by type and size, in the center, a massive Anvil lay there, it looked like it was there for hundreds of years, dust accumulated on top of it.
but.
There existed a workbench near the back, and there.
It lay.
a broken katana.
Kamish's eyes instantly focused on the blade, which had snapped roughly a third of the way from the tip, even broken, he could see the quality in the folded steel, the pattern of the metal flowed like flowing water frozen in time.
[DING!]
The sound rang in Kamish's head, and suddenly, text materialized in his vision.
[QUEST RECEIVED THE UNFINISHED MASTERWORK]
[Objective: Observe and understand the complete restoration of the broken katana
Requirements:
Identify the 22-fold steel pattern: 0/1
Understand the tempering process: 0/1
Recognize the proper forge temperature for folded steel: 0/1
Comprehend the quenching technique: 0/1
Reward: Skill - Basic Blacksmithing (Beginner) (F)
Failure Penalty: Permanent inability to learn smithing skills
Time Limit: Until the blade is complete.]
Twitch!
Kamish's eyes twitched slightly. The system had never issued a quest revolving around this type of material before.
it usally revovled around Combat, fighting to survive, or ending some things in life.
It never was around living or learning skills, was the system evolving, or adapting to me?.
"Are ye just gonna stand there gawking, or are ye gonna watch properly?"
Borin interrupted my thoughts. Like a sword cutting through paper, my thoughts washed away to the back of my mind.
"My apologies, I got lost in thought, master ironfoot, but I'm ready now!"
Borin grunted as he moved towards the forge.
He stoked the coals with ease, and as the flames rose, they shifted colors, from dark red to light orange.
"The first rule of working with folded steel is Temperature."
"if to hot, you will burn the carbon out, if it's too cold, ye cant shape the metal. The steel will tell ye when it's ready, one just needs to be trained to see it."
Kamish watched earnestly as borin slected a piece of steel. It wasn't the broken blade, but a testing piece.
"Before I begin to work on that blade i need to remember the exact temperature that it was forged in. It's been years since I even worked on it, i cant just rush in and hope for the best."
Sizzle!!.
Borin placed the steel into the forge, watching as the color of the steel changed. with a instensity that reminded Kamish of how he himself watched his opponents in battle.
"See that, it has begun."
Broin points at the steel, pointing out all of its issues with a noticeable glance.
"That's orange, it's wrong, it needs to be yellow-white, almost like a sun's edge, it needs to be around 1,200 degrees, if not the steel won't be able to be folded. because thats were folded steel wants to be worked."
[Progress: Recognize the proper forge temperature for folded steel: 1/1]
A notification appeared, and Kamish felt something click in his mind, not just understanding the words; it was as if seeing the color, the way the metal seemed to shimmer, at that exact temperature.
His eyes were earnestly watching it.
As Borin pulled the test piece out with the tongs that were being held in his hands, he began to set the blazing steel aside.
"Now the blade needs to be worked on."
He picked up the broken katana with a solemn face; it spoke volumes about what he thought about this Blade, as his fingers traced the breaking point of the blade.
Twitch!
his eyes twitched in irritation as he began.
"Twenty-two folds, that's not twenty-two layers, mind ye, each fold doubles the layers, one fold is two layers. And two folds is four, and so on."
as he paused, the bitterness in his voice became apparent.
i couldnt say anything to that, I knew silence was somtimes was the only proper response to grief.
Borin moved to the grinding wheel and began carefully cleaning the broken edges of both of the pieces.
The wheel began to spin as the metal met stone. It created sparks that danced upon the dim light of the blade.
As Borin finished cleaning both edges, he moved to a small container and pulled out a fine white powder.
"Borax, the flux, this is what we all call it, it will let the steel bond without oxidizing, you sprinkle it ontop of the clean surfaces of the blade before ye put them into the forge together".
He did exactly that, as he carefully coated both of the broken edges.
"Now, Dragon, watch carefully, this is where most fail."