Skye made his way back into the fort and took it all in, each platoon had their own sleeping area and staging for their gear and weapons to keep them dry. The organisation of the streets coming into plain view. Sections of buildings put together and the alleys all leading to the village tree.
Some of Elli's Branded walked past them and out the gate, most likely off to practice shooting. He only heard a few seconds of their conversation but instantly wished he didn't.
"And what a good day it is to shoot, don't you say my good fellow?"
"Indeed chum, beautiful as can be. Not a lick of wind."
He didn't know what happened in the Branding process but it must have fried their brains, or maybe the slivers were a stronger drug than they realised. Most of the slivers they were receiving were going to the Branded and now Skye was happy to hear it. Whatever they were on, he wanted none of it.
It caused his Branded to become a weird plant cult, the Smiths to talk like old bearded men, ninjas to be born, shirtless muscle bound warriors, and now English nobility on their way for a fox hunt. There is not enough air in this world for Skye to sign as loudly as he wanted to right now.
At least they were all hard working and pulling more than their own weight. He hated to admit it but without their help they wouldn't be anywhere near as comfortable or advanced as they were.
Skye summoned Thorn into reality as he stood there, finding on the words that floated above it when he unfocused his eyes.
[Name: Thorn]
He looked past the next lines of text and found what he was looking for.
[Status: Alive 120/250]
He then looked for his own name in the world of text that he could pull up, finding it floating just beyond his vision, pulling it to the centre.
[Skye Sauveterre 345/1000]
He couldn't imagine that he had already absorbed nearly 500 monsters worth of slivers already. His first week here he struggled to break the original 50 that Thorn required, and with so many mouths, hungry for slivers, also needed feeding? No wonder their most abundant resource seemed to be the skins of monsters.
The results were obvious in his body, he just never took the time to really notice it. The changes were fast yet subtle. His arms were thicker and his chest more full, his legs felt powerful. He now had a body he could count on and this wasn't something that could be achieved with just eating more food.
He could admire himself some other time, he had a goal.
Skye found himself with some down time and wanted to experiment, making his way to the crafting station in the fort and finding a Smith fiddling with a tool.
"Hello, sorry to bother you while you're working"
The Smith interrupted him.
"If you're sorry to do it boy, then don't."
Skye took a long pause and looked at this man, all skin and bones, no older than 18. He spoke like he smoked 2 packs of synth sticks a day and drank only unfiltered water in the slums.
He was so taken back he didn't know how to progress, but he found the perfect words to win him over.
"Hey, what the fuck dude, you have a problem with me or something?"
As the words left his mouth he squared up his hips and stepped closer to the Smith, who was a good head shorter than him. The Smith instantly dropped the tool and flinched back. His voice became high pitched and quick.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't hit me, I was just playing. How can I help you sir? Please, don't hit me. I bruise easily."
"If you didn't want to be hit then why are you saying things to make people want to hit you?"
"I don't know, everyone does it in the workshop. I felt out of place if I didn't. They say the fire of the forge makes you hard but I don't even think we have a forge here? Please, I'm sorry, everything is so confusing."
Skye took pity on the kid, everything was confusing and people were just trying to fit in. Their whole lives changed in a split second and now so has their bodies and abilities. It was natural for the human mind to find ways to cope with it.
Skye remembered his first week here, he spoke to the trees as if they could understand him. It just felt rude not to say something after touching roots like that.
Skye took a pause and decided to be kind.
"Well… as long as I know you don't mean it, I guess it's kind of cool how you made your voice like that. Want to keep practicing?"
The boy looked up from behind his arms he held up to protect his face with a gleam in his eyes.
"Aye, If ye say so. What can I do ye for?"
"That's more pirate than a blacksmith man."
"What do you want?"
Skye hid his laugh under his breath and got to the point.
"I need an axe head, and maybe the pointy end of a pickaxe, I'm trying to make something."
"Do I look like a charity shop boy? Everything here has a use, I can't be giving away good hard metal to some lad with a hobby."
"Alright, I've decided I will actually hit you."
Skye took another step forward and raised his hands slightly.
"..... Okay you've convinced me with your heartfelt story, I'll see what I can do."
The Smith scurried off to the stockpile of tools, neatly laid out and stored in barrels and on top of wooden sleds. He came back quickly.
"These were scheduled to go up north and be melted down for practice, I don't think they'll be missed. Now go boy, I have work to do and no time for your bother."
The Smith got back to trying to fix something that was far beyond his understanding, mostly just bashing it together or trying to tie it together.
Skye held the tools in his hands, exactly what he was looking for. He didn't want anything more to do with the Branded today. He was a man who found joy in a lot of things but even he had his limits for weirdness.
The group slept near the tree, each with their own room. Perks of leadership he guessed. He entered into his room, a hole in the corner of the room and a slant so smoke would leave and a firepit in the middle with places to sit around it. His bed was logs tied together with monsterskins bundled on top of it. A small makeshift desk in the corner with a log for sitting.
The natural light and view of the village tree was really quite beautiful, made less so by the fact he could see into the rooms of everyone else. It was better than sleeping in the tents with everyone else Skye reminded himself, he couldn't imagine the lack of privacy there, or the smell.
He sat down next to the fire pit which wasn't lit and summoned Thorn again. This time he held the axe head to the shaft where the knife connected to the spear and began looping around his roots to tie it. Once that was in place he did the same with the pick end of the pickaxe, directly opposite the axe head.
Once the roots held them in place he went over with another layer, this time fusing the roots together so it laid flat and looked as if it was built into the shaft all along.
When he finished he held it up, admiring his work. His spear had officially become a Halberd. Pointy top, axe side, and pointy back. For all he could tell, this was the best one ever made and hit all the key points of a Halberd.
He felt how the weight had changed, now more heavy than ever at the top. As he was looking it over the words appeared again.
[Evolved Thorn acquired]
[Rename Thorn?]
[Yes/No]
Skye took a long look at his weapon, it was true, it no longer looked like a Thorn, but Skye had become too attached to the name. No matter how it changed in the future, this would always be the staff with a pointy rock tied to the top in his eyes.
He selected no, and Thorn shattered into dust and sparks of life.
In a panic he summoned it back instantly, afraid that he had broken the damn thing with his weird tinkering. But as it reappeared it was all in one piece.
Not only that, it looked more natural and balanced, the metal no longer holding spots of rust and chipped parts. It seemed brand new to him.
He walked outside and in the open air he gave it a swing. The new found weight brought the axe down hard and quick with a force beyond Skye's skill. He twisted his body and spun around with the pick and let it circle around him, slicing and stabbing at the air.
With every swing his hypothesis became more and more a certainty. He could improve, change, and turn mundane things into Enchanted tools if he connected them with his roots. Now two more tests needed to be carried out.
Could he do this for his fellow Marked and their Enchanted tools, and more importantly, could he do this for the Branded as well. Could they even have Enchanted tools to begin with?
Skye's vision was set in the future, but all he could see was the darkening sky. He had spent more time than he thought improving Thorn and night was almost upon them.
Everything could wait for tomorrow, as for tonight, he wanted to see how this fort could handle itself against the tides of monsters now. He wanted to see how they dominated the very things they had feared.
What he would see, rather, was their first blood bath under the watchful eye of the three full moons.