His will started unopposed…then he felt stiff opposition, like he had suddenly tried to lift a heavy weight.
The flames surrounding the broken hammers turned blue, and the material began to rise slowly into the air.
Lindon fixed his concentration, pushing his willpower into the project as he had when he’d torn open space. He could feel the broken hammers; they had once been used to craft masterpieces. He treated that as though it were a new aspect of madra, weaving it into his ultimate design.
The blue light started to congeal into the vague outline of a hammer.
This wasn’t enough, and Lindon felt instinctively what he had to do next. Part of that was the intuition he’d inherited from the memories of other Soulsmiths, but part was his own experience.
He needed to invest power of his own into this project. Lindon poured pure madra into the hammer, visualizing as he did the purpose of pure madra in Soulsmithing: its universal compatibility and its ability to purify.
But before the hammer congealed around the pure madra, he stopped. And he switched his cores.
He wanted this hammer to represent his power at its most complete state, so he poured Blackflame into the hammer. Blackflame added deadly force and destructive intention to weapons, and it too could be used to burn away materials and impurities.
When he had added an equal amount of Blackflame, he stopped pouring in madra and began using his will to guide the forces together. He intended to blend them, but Dross stopped him.
[Stop, you fool! Can’t you see they’ve achieved a balance already?]
At the heart of the blue outline that only vaguely resembled a hammer, two powers swirled: one bright and blue-white, and another darkness outlined in red. They swam around one another like twin fish, and they did indeed feel perfectly in balance.
That was where Lindon’s experience failed him. His will trembled as he held the hammer half-manifested.
What do I do now? Lindon asked. He vaguely assumed it had something to do with soulfire.
Just when he was prepared to brute force it, Eithan leaned forward. “Now, bring it forth. It isn’t real enough yet, like a Jade Remnant that has just manifested. Pull it out until it becomes reality.”
Lindon’s voice was strained with the effort of keeping the hammer half-existing. “What about soulfire?”
“What do you think that is?” Eithan pointed down to the blue flame in the center of the altar.
Aside from the fact that they were both in the form of fire, the flame in this altar had very little resemblance to soulfire. Especially since Archlord soulfire was its highest level, and that looked like quicksilver. Even Ghostwater had been formed with Archlord soulfire, not this…blue kind.
But Lindon’s will was at its limit, so he couldn’t wait to debate. He pushed one more time, shoving the hammer into reality.
As he did, he had one strange thought: he was pulling something into existence, and out of nothingness. That resonated with the Void Icon, but he wasn’t sure exactly how yet. It was worth examining later.
He got a brief glimpse of a black hammer with a double-sided head: one side blue and one red. Then the azure soulfire consumed it, hiding it for a moment.
When the flame passed, he could see his hammer.
Just sitting on the dark metal of the altar, it emanated a heavy pressure. Its will thrummed against his own, and he could feel its desire to create hanging in the air like a musical note.
It was made of a black metal he couldn’t quite identify, but that he recognized from the heads of the hammers he’d used to make it. The handle was rough enough that his hand wouldn’t slip, and the two halves of the head were very different.
The Blackflame half shone red and gave off a sharp, even savage impression. The pure half was smooth with round edges, and it emanated a soothing air. But when he picked it up, the weight was perfectly balanced. Red and blue lines trailed in the air behind it as he turned to show it to everyone.
“That was…strange,” Lindon said. It had felt as much like difficult manual labor as an effort of creation. Without Dross guiding him, he would have needed to fail many times to create such a product, and without the Soulforge the result would have been much lower.
“What are you going to name it?” Ziel asked.
Yerin nodded. “Needs a name.”
Everyone had crowded into the Soulforge’s platform, and Lindon began to wonder if the presence of so many people here would overburden the pocket world.
“Names are said to have an effect on an object’s purpose,” Eithan said.
Lindon could tell that they were heading into a situation in which everyone shouted out their suggestions for a name, so he turned to Dross instead. That conversation, at least, could be held at the speed of thought.
What do you think?
[Worldbreaker! Father of Weapons! Iron of the Netherworld! Midnight, Cursed Genesis of the Destroyer!]
I don’t mind ‘Genesis,’ Lindon thought.
Dross spat at him.
“Genesis,” Lindon said firmly, to cut off the discussion beginning around him.
Ziel shrugged. “Eh.”
“Sure,” Eithan said.
“Makes things. There’s sense to it, and it’s not all flowered up.” Yerin nodded.
“I think it needs to be longer,” Mercy said, running a hand down Eclipse, Ancient Bow of the Soulseeker.
Little Blue waved her hands in the air and cheered the new hammer.
Orthos blew smoke.
“Very good,” Lindon said, having gotten enough consensus. He hadn’t been overly concerned about making the hammer; the materials he’d used weren’t too valuable, and he wouldn’t be losing much even if he failed.
But now the blue soulfire inside the Soulforge had died down noticeably, and it needed fuel. And the components…while he’d gotten them for free, and as such wouldn’t really be losing out if the Soulsmithing created a useless product, he was still afraid to mess up.
Onto the altar went the two broken halves of Reigan Shen’s death trident…and the beating, throbbing heart-shaped binding from the Tomb Hydra.
The death madra immediately resonated between the two of them, and some death madra strings—dead matter that were still attached to the heart—began to weave around the trident.
“Better hurry up,” Eithan observed. “Looks like it’s trying to finish itself.”
Lindon gripped the bone ring set with the ruby, the object that had once given birth to the Bleeding Phoenix. He felt its weight on the world and looked back to Eithan. “Are we sure we want to—”
Eithan slapped his hand, knocking the twisted ring into the Soulforge. The circle of bone flew into the flames.
Instantly, the blue fire roared. It swelled to fill the entire interior of the altar, to the point that flames licked out around Lindon’s knees. He wondered whether the altar could handle it.
The invisible energy on the surface of the altar grew powerful, and the trident levitated into the air, carrying the death binding with it.
Lindon wasn’t sure whether it was an effect of the Soulforge or the materials, but he could sense the hunger aspect of the binding much more clearly than he had before. He pushed only a little, and the physical form of both faded.
They didn’t burn away to blue light, like the hammers had. This time, they seemed to fade until they covered one another, like one piece of paper layered on another.