Reaper(Cradle #10)(63)
And the anvil, if that’s what it was, was clearly the focus of all the creative energies in this space. In a mundane forge, you would heat up metal in the flame to make it malleable enough to shape, but that didn’t have much relevance to Soulsmithing.
He approached the center and felt the energy gathered above the altar-like anvil. There was little to see, but the air felt invisibly focused there, charged, as though waiting for something.
“I think anything you put there is…altered. Enhanced, maybe.” He knelt to look at the blue fire. “This fuels the effect somehow. I assume you have to burn something here? Soulfire?”
Eithan was about to answer, but Lindon cut him off as an idea occurred to him. “No…wait.” He pulled out the pearl necklace he had found earlier.
From Eithan’s proud smile, Lindon already knew he was right, but he tossed the necklace in anyway. The physical form of the necklace burned to ash in an instant, which dissolved to nothing with a hiss. But the flames strengthened.
Just to test it out, he tossed in some junk with no authority whatsoever. It burned up, but the flame didn’t change.
Lindon moved to his feet, full of confidence. “It takes objects with embedded authority and burns them, focusing it on whatever you’re making above the altar.”
Eithan applauded. “Very good! We say objects with invested authority or willpower are significant, but the terminology changes from place to place, so it’s not important. You’re so right it brings a tear to my eye.”
“But what does it do to the Soulsmithing?”
“In traditional Soulsmithing, Archlord artifacts are effectively the peak. There is no higher form of soulfire than that which Archlords produce, and spirits are usually raised past that stage artificially. Beings stronger than Archlords don’t often die and leave Remnants, you see.
“Even if you were fortunate enough to get a Herald or Monarch’s Remnant, or to raise a Remnant to be equivalent to a Herald, you would still be tempering it in Archlord soulfire. It would be only marginally better than an actual Archlord weapon.”
Eithan swept his arms around the Soulforge. “If you really want to perform Soulsmithing on a higher level, you need a way to imbue the authority and willpower of a greater existence into the item. That requires tools and locations on a superior tier of existence, which are few and far between. If you wanted to forge a Monarch a sword, for instance, you would want to do it on a battlefield in which Monarchs died, of which there are surpassingly few.
“This was a fairly ingenious solution, I will admit. A portable location that can increase the level of existence of projects worked here, allowing the manipulation of more advanced forces. It’s not quite as good as if you crafted a device in a significant location that suited the project, but it has the advantage of being universally compatible and mobile.”
Lindon wanted to rub his cheek all over the anvil. He could see exactly how much of an advantage this would be.
But Eithan had used a word that caught his attention. “Did you have a hand in the creation of this Soulforge, Eithan?”
The Archlord sighed. “Sadly not. This was Reigan Shen’s design and creation, and he was only willing to part with it because he is capable of building another one. Though it will be expensive, even for him.”
Something visibly occurred to Eithan, and he asked, “Why did you ask if I made it?”
“You called it ingenious.”
Eithan staggered back, clapping a finger to his chest as though wounded. “I do not like what you’re implying, my beloved disciple.”
“So this was part of Reigan Shen’s bribe?” Lindon looked around the space, jealousy worming his way through his heart. “Why didn’t you show me this before? Are you even a Soulsmith?”
“It’s rare to find a sacred artist who hasn’t at least dabbled in Soulsmithing,” Eithan protested. “And it so happens that I have been using this facility to prepare the materials for the Pure Storm Baptism that Ziel has enjoyed. I intended to pass this on to you when you were ready, and now that we have been interacting with objects of some significance…”
He left the sentence hanging suggestively, and Lindon was so excited by the space that he was willing to let it pass that Eithan had kept another secret from them. “Does this mean you can make anything—wait just a second, did you say you were passing it on to me?”
“Very soon. Ziel could still use one more treatment, I’d say, but it’s best that you start practicing before you inherit this from me.”
“Can we use this to fix Dross?”
Eithan cleared his throat. “If it could, I would have revealed it to you earlier. I’m sorry. But you will find a solution for Dross, I’m certain!”
Lindon was overwhelmed. He blinked back tears. “It’s too much,” Lindon said, though he would already fight a Dreadgod with half a paintbrush over the Soulforge. “You’ve given me so much already.”
Eithan cocked his head as though he didn’t understand. “I consider the things I’ve given you to be the best investments I’ve ever made.”
Lindon straightened up and pressed his fists together, bowing over them in a sincere salute. “Gratitude, master.”
“You know, you never call me that.” Eithan ushered Lindon out of the Soulforge, though Lindon kept shooting longing glances backwards. “It’s probably for the best. I don’t want status to go to my head.”