Seeing this shield takes me back to the time right before I was moved to the workshop hidden in the mountains. A messenger had told me that I had one week to say my goodbyes to anyone in the capitol, though I was not to tell anyone about where I was going. Being a loner, it took me an entire day of thinking if anyone in the capitol knew me well enough to miss me. Not that it took me an entire day to think of someone, as one person came to mind immediately. That entire day of reflection led to me accepting that because of my introverted habits, my teacher from back at the mage academy would be the only one to like to know I am leaving. In addition, I wanted to be able to show my gratitude to the one person who supported me.

Back at the royal mage academy, most mages were nobility. This was expected, as magic is (mostly) hereditary. When two noble mages have a child, 99.9% of the time that child will have mana. Though when a noble mage and a manaless commoner have a child, their children are manaless as well, 99.9% of the time. The numbers get interesting when looking at the next generation. The commonborn love children of nobility were often watched as a backup in case a house does not have an heir. If a disaster occurs and the line would end, the common, manaless child would often be married to a lesser noble mage, one who is far from inheriting anything. Their children would be born mages 50% of the time. If a house is truly in need of saving, and it can’t even entice a desperate noble, sometimes the union of two commonborn love children can produce a mage heir. Of course the odds of that is low, with only about 25% of children born this way actually developing magic. 

Then there are the cases where a commonborn child is never claimed by its noble parent, or is found later in life, and has children themselves. Normally this doesn’t happen since Nobles take bloodline purity very seriously. Which makes sense considering that the excuse they have for their status is magic itself, but unfortunately it makes commonborn children such as myself discriminated against as bastards, regardless of the fidelity of our parents. Pairing that discrimination with my own social anxiety meant that I withdrew deep into my craft when I was forced into the mage’s academy by the empire. To make it worse, I applied to the magic blacksmith specialization, at the time thought to be useless.

During the empire’s reign, production of magic weapons and armor was divided primarily into two. There were the non-noble blacksmiths and the noble enchanters. The blacksmiths would offer their best products to the enchanters, who would then imbue the craft with a basic enchantment, as well as renew it as needed. The problem came when repairs were required. Enchanted goods could not be fixed by non magical means, as either the enchantment would be lost or the item would be destroyed entirely. And that’s where magic blacksmith’s came in. We were the only ones with enough knowledge to keep a magic item completely intact while repairing it. Unfortunately, since smithing is a craft that takes years to master, and is deemed as a common folk profession, no true noble cared for it. In addition, since magic gear was so treasured, it rarely needed repair. As such the majority of magic blacksmiths, at the time glorified repairmen, were commonborn mages or low ranking disgraced nobles forced into the craft. 

My teacher loved the profession though, and was the only one who tried to research ways to improve the profession. We came from the exact same circumstances, both taken from our family when we wanted to take on the family profession. Seeing this and empathizing with me, he set up my foundations to advance to the next level. He had learned how to become an enchanter as well as a magic blacksmith, believing that crafting an item while continuously enchanting it would create a stronger product. Unfortunately, the enchantments would still fade given time. 

He theorized that inscription would be the key to creating truly powerful artifacts. At the time inscription was used primarily in staffs made from magical material, mostly exotic trees from enchanted forests, though it was also used for ritual circles. Inscription is able to permanently inscribe a preloaded spell formula into a staff, and to release it when triggered. The reason this hadn’t been applied to weapons was because inscription itself was a separate craft unto itself, with its own complicated language of mystic symbols. And, most importantly, staffs were created to make casting magic easier, requiring the user to be able to use magic in the first place. As most weapons and armor were for soldiers who would serve as a meat shield for mages, the renowned and respected inscription artists would not even think of wasting their time putting a spell trigger on a sword.

My teacher thought otherwise. He thought that if you can inscribe not an active effect, but a passive one into the processes of smithing you could create a true magic artifact, opening up the possibilities beyond basic enchantments such as “harder, sharper, lighter, heavier, etc.” 

Unfortunately, he did not have the time to learn inscription as he was managing his business as well as teaching at the same time. In addition, it was harder to find a teacher at his age. Thus I was entrusted with learning inscriptions and enchanting in addition to my main focus. Eager to prove that blacksmiths were more than a peasant’s craft, I threw myself into learning. Every week I would summarize what I learned and together we would think of ways to apply it to the smithing process without weakening the end product. After trial and error, we found out that just inscriptions were not enough, and so I threw myself into alchemy as well. Eventually we came to the epiphany that a greater earth spirit would know metal like no mortal can, and it was he who collected the rumors and pieced together the place where I found Sif, a Spirit Prince at the time.

It’s safe to say I would not have been anything without his support. It was he who pointed me towards the right path, who researched how to use the systems of magic in different ways to combine them effectively, and who supplied the funding for our experiments. And I knew exactly what I would make for him. 

After I rose to fame and propelled the magic blacksmith craft to new heights, so much so that the lofty nobles renamed the profession to arcane crafter, he settled down, content, and raised a family. He was lucky in that respect as he fell in love with a small time noble who truly loved him as well. I created him a shield and with the help of all my spirit princes, created a greater artifact to protect his happiness. The only visible magic signature was that it protected those who live in the house from illness and disease, as well as my standard theft protection. The hidden effect was what took us almost the entire week to work out. In addition to the visible effect, we effectively used fate magic to ensure good luck to his family and descendants, so that no matter how hard life may get for them, they will always be able to find happiness. 

Breaking my stare, I look around the armory, seeing well crafted goods carefully placed and well maintained, I recall the old shop. Smiling like an idiot, I hear myself say, “Thank you, my teacher.”

Astrocat

I liiiiive. No promises on a consistent schedule, but life has calmed down enough for me to start writing again.