55 Ash, 122
Finishing the pendants and beginning work on the interesting idea he'd had for taking the idea of the Amulet of Wandering (famous throughout the continent at the least for being a sought after magical artifact) and the door like quality of the portals he'd seen Aurin open. The notion had crawled into his brain shortly after he'd watched the redhead open a door and deposit the group of young folk who called themselves The Whispers into his yard the season before. Opening rips in reality to walk through was certainly miraculous, but it also seemed dangerous. He'd checked out several books concerning the use of the Traversion rune from the Academy libraries, trying to learn what would happen if a portal was opened into something solid, like a person's body. It seemed there were laws in place, set by nature or gods, that kept a traversionist from opening a portal inside another solid object, which, while reassuring, also brought up many other questions in the mind of the smith whose job it was to understand the aetheric workings of the world.
Where matters of the gods were concerned, with the possible exception of Kala Leukos (Was that her goddess name? Did you get a 'god' name when you ascended?), Torin tended to keep his head down and not ask questions. If it was nature itself that stopped Traversion from cutting into other objects that said something about the consciousness of reality itself that was enough to make him dizzy if he thought about it too long. Regardless of the moral and realistic implications of the knowledge it was enough of a reassurance that he was willing to work with Traversion in his runesmithing.
The design schematics for the door knobs had been an act of artistic creation, a pleasure fueled by interest and passion, more than it had been work. He wasn't sure if he would ever sell the items, let alone the schematic, but, for his use and that of those he trusted, it would be a wonder. The intention was to make a door knob that had indentation intended to put Beacon stones in, much like the Amulet, except that you could attach the knob to a normal doorway instead of wearing it. When turned to the left the knob would spin, allowing the user to select the Beacon Stone, and thus location, they wanted. When turned right the knob would open the door and a portal that would fit neatly into the frame allowing the user, or whoever else, to make their way through to wherever the Beacon Stone was set to. He intended to use activation words, like passwords, to keep unaware people or curious children from accidentally activating portals. Once the portal was activated you could remove the knob and take it with you so that you could return, so long as the knob also had a portal to wherever you were coming from. There was a limit to the amount of time a portal would stay open, of course, and shutting the door would instantly cut it off.
The knobs themselves he had decided to make from the same ash steel he'd used for the new pendants, Timon had succeeded in securing a steady supply of the metal and its use was becoming something of a speciality for Torin. Normal steel was still something he'd worked hard to learn not only the use of but the creation of, and he used his own excellent steel for most of the weapons and armor produced for Starfall's guards and soldiers. It was in his smaller, personal projects that ash steel became magic under his hands. He could have used silver or other precious metals for the jewelry, but, as a boy who had grown into manhood always afraid of his own strength doing damage, he liked even the pretty things he made to be very sturdy. The idea helped too, as in the creation of the little flying statue he'd made for Kala, the silver had helped him mentally assign the idea of lightness and beauty to the project. Ash steel would make the idea of sturdiness and toughness stick in his mind as he wielded aether to make his will manifest. Perhaps it was silly, and perhaps it was a crutch, as aether could make the softest of gold harder than any steel and the most brittle iron pliable as gold, but his seeming status as a prodigy of runeforging was based on such ideas.
The pendants had been in the aether forge, then on his scrivened, marble workbench, then back into the forge several times to make the minute and delicate adjustments of each pendant to the master. For fifty days he had plied his skill to each of the set, using all he knew to ensure the subtleties required were just right. The final aether lines, delicate as any woven silk were being laid into the work with hands steady and sure in their work. Torin's mind was wholly absorbed into the work, and it was love as much as sweat; needful as any lovemaking.
As most nights since he'd begun the project he was in the forge till well after darkness fell around the forges, even when he knew the work was finished he still took and held each pendant, examining them to the full extend of his Semblance, examining the delicate Scrivening work that had gone into each before the metal had been hardened beyond marking. More Scrivening had gone into the smooth black stones that made up the center of the pendants, each minute new rune required its own time in the aether forge, and the work had required detailed attention every day, unlike some of the more straightforward projects in making armor tougher or weapons that would never need see the rough side of a whet stone. The project had led to Torin being distracted easily from other things, even normal conversations. Once, to his great embarrassment, he failed to realize Sivan was attempting to seduce him, but had made up for the lack of attentiveness with excessive attentiveness in the hours that followed. Afterwards he'd attempted to force himself to listen and give due attention to his friends and companions, but, even so, he dreamt of the pendants, woke in the night with an irresistible urge to check on their progress. Thus it was often that the light of one of the Illumite lamps, on its lowest setting, could be seen shining through the windows of the runeforge at random hours of the night.
Timon and Aurin, now aided by Sivan, and even occasionally Destyn, ensured that, however obsessed he was with the work, he ate and slept at least some of the night through. Thus the work was done, and he neither lost weight nor ruined said work by allowing himself to become exhausted. The pride that swelled in him when he finally realized that no more inspection was, for perhaps the first time, stronger than the sense of loss that rose to, oft times, overwhelm him when a complex new act of runeforging was completed.
Carefully he removed the pendant that he had crafted for himself, to connect with Aurin, more than a year ago and slotted it into the space he'd made specially in the new pendant that would allow much greater levels of communication. Slipping the new one over his head and settling it against his skin he felt the magic connection to him and try to connect to the master pendant, but, as no one was yet wearing it, nothing happened. The much fainter aetheric traces from the original pendant resting against his skin soothed the sense of incompleteness and reminded him that, until Aurin came to claim his new prize, they were still able to talk across the distance of the city. With a little nostalgic smile he activated the old pendant for, perhaps, the last time, to let Aurin know that he was finished, and that the rest of the pendants could be collected to hand out to those in his circle.
Aurin would be along when he was able, and, until then, the smith could occupy himself with checking over the latest Scrivening work he'd put into the knobs. There were three of them, and he was making them identically, not seeing any reason to make changes since any changes needed would be in the Beacon Stones. The Stones he had worked on in the space time he had between his work on the pendants and they were already buried in the ground beside Aurin's front door, beside Sivan's, and one each by the doors of Aurin's other agents. Although the Lysanrin man did not seem to have a permanent home, moving often, and thus hadn't had one prepared for him. The Whispers all stayed in one place together, so they required only one, and Torin had placed one under the threshold to his own house for each of his friends. The cost to make them had been what he would have previously considered prohibitive, but now, well... he could afford it.
The gemstones themselves he had chosen for color and quality, assigning a different kind of each of the locations so anyone using the knobs could recognize them at a glance. The Traversionist who he'd hired to assist him, and to teach Aurin when he wasn't needed to work on either knobs or Stones had been intrigued by the idea, but not knowledgeable enough in runeforging to understand when Torin took the interest as an invitation to explain. The woman's ignorance had been quickly perceived, allowing the smith to stop trying to teach before it became awkward, or worse, insulting. The woman was, not flighty, she was able to hold her concentration, but, once she wasn't being given active work, her mind wandered. It made Torin begin to wonder how much receiving a cardinal rune changed a person. His own had certainly adjusted his personality but how much of that was the trauma of his threshold sickness, and how much was the etching of the rune itself onto his soul? It was not a question that could be easily answered, nor one that he was even qualified to seek an answer for. Another thing to ask Kala about when there was time.
For the moment, he worked, turning the knobs in the kiln and letting his thoughts do as they would.
Finishing the pendants and beginning work on the interesting idea he'd had for taking the idea of the Amulet of Wandering (famous throughout the continent at the least for being a sought after magical artifact) and the door like quality of the portals he'd seen Aurin open. The notion had crawled into his brain shortly after he'd watched the redhead open a door and deposit the group of young folk who called themselves The Whispers into his yard the season before. Opening rips in reality to walk through was certainly miraculous, but it also seemed dangerous. He'd checked out several books concerning the use of the Traversion rune from the Academy libraries, trying to learn what would happen if a portal was opened into something solid, like a person's body. It seemed there were laws in place, set by nature or gods, that kept a traversionist from opening a portal inside another solid object, which, while reassuring, also brought up many other questions in the mind of the smith whose job it was to understand the aetheric workings of the world.
Where matters of the gods were concerned, with the possible exception of Kala Leukos (Was that her goddess name? Did you get a 'god' name when you ascended?), Torin tended to keep his head down and not ask questions. If it was nature itself that stopped Traversion from cutting into other objects that said something about the consciousness of reality itself that was enough to make him dizzy if he thought about it too long. Regardless of the moral and realistic implications of the knowledge it was enough of a reassurance that he was willing to work with Traversion in his runesmithing.
The design schematics for the door knobs had been an act of artistic creation, a pleasure fueled by interest and passion, more than it had been work. He wasn't sure if he would ever sell the items, let alone the schematic, but, for his use and that of those he trusted, it would be a wonder. The intention was to make a door knob that had indentation intended to put Beacon stones in, much like the Amulet, except that you could attach the knob to a normal doorway instead of wearing it. When turned to the left the knob would spin, allowing the user to select the Beacon Stone, and thus location, they wanted. When turned right the knob would open the door and a portal that would fit neatly into the frame allowing the user, or whoever else, to make their way through to wherever the Beacon Stone was set to. He intended to use activation words, like passwords, to keep unaware people or curious children from accidentally activating portals. Once the portal was activated you could remove the knob and take it with you so that you could return, so long as the knob also had a portal to wherever you were coming from. There was a limit to the amount of time a portal would stay open, of course, and shutting the door would instantly cut it off.
The knobs themselves he had decided to make from the same ash steel he'd used for the new pendants, Timon had succeeded in securing a steady supply of the metal and its use was becoming something of a speciality for Torin. Normal steel was still something he'd worked hard to learn not only the use of but the creation of, and he used his own excellent steel for most of the weapons and armor produced for Starfall's guards and soldiers. It was in his smaller, personal projects that ash steel became magic under his hands. He could have used silver or other precious metals for the jewelry, but, as a boy who had grown into manhood always afraid of his own strength doing damage, he liked even the pretty things he made to be very sturdy. The idea helped too, as in the creation of the little flying statue he'd made for Kala, the silver had helped him mentally assign the idea of lightness and beauty to the project. Ash steel would make the idea of sturdiness and toughness stick in his mind as he wielded aether to make his will manifest. Perhaps it was silly, and perhaps it was a crutch, as aether could make the softest of gold harder than any steel and the most brittle iron pliable as gold, but his seeming status as a prodigy of runeforging was based on such ideas.
The pendants had been in the aether forge, then on his scrivened, marble workbench, then back into the forge several times to make the minute and delicate adjustments of each pendant to the master. For fifty days he had plied his skill to each of the set, using all he knew to ensure the subtleties required were just right. The final aether lines, delicate as any woven silk were being laid into the work with hands steady and sure in their work. Torin's mind was wholly absorbed into the work, and it was love as much as sweat; needful as any lovemaking.
As most nights since he'd begun the project he was in the forge till well after darkness fell around the forges, even when he knew the work was finished he still took and held each pendant, examining them to the full extend of his Semblance, examining the delicate Scrivening work that had gone into each before the metal had been hardened beyond marking. More Scrivening had gone into the smooth black stones that made up the center of the pendants, each minute new rune required its own time in the aether forge, and the work had required detailed attention every day, unlike some of the more straightforward projects in making armor tougher or weapons that would never need see the rough side of a whet stone. The project had led to Torin being distracted easily from other things, even normal conversations. Once, to his great embarrassment, he failed to realize Sivan was attempting to seduce him, but had made up for the lack of attentiveness with excessive attentiveness in the hours that followed. Afterwards he'd attempted to force himself to listen and give due attention to his friends and companions, but, even so, he dreamt of the pendants, woke in the night with an irresistible urge to check on their progress. Thus it was often that the light of one of the Illumite lamps, on its lowest setting, could be seen shining through the windows of the runeforge at random hours of the night.
Timon and Aurin, now aided by Sivan, and even occasionally Destyn, ensured that, however obsessed he was with the work, he ate and slept at least some of the night through. Thus the work was done, and he neither lost weight nor ruined said work by allowing himself to become exhausted. The pride that swelled in him when he finally realized that no more inspection was, for perhaps the first time, stronger than the sense of loss that rose to, oft times, overwhelm him when a complex new act of runeforging was completed.
Carefully he removed the pendant that he had crafted for himself, to connect with Aurin, more than a year ago and slotted it into the space he'd made specially in the new pendant that would allow much greater levels of communication. Slipping the new one over his head and settling it against his skin he felt the magic connection to him and try to connect to the master pendant, but, as no one was yet wearing it, nothing happened. The much fainter aetheric traces from the original pendant resting against his skin soothed the sense of incompleteness and reminded him that, until Aurin came to claim his new prize, they were still able to talk across the distance of the city. With a little nostalgic smile he activated the old pendant for, perhaps, the last time, to let Aurin know that he was finished, and that the rest of the pendants could be collected to hand out to those in his circle.
Aurin would be along when he was able, and, until then, the smith could occupy himself with checking over the latest Scrivening work he'd put into the knobs. There were three of them, and he was making them identically, not seeing any reason to make changes since any changes needed would be in the Beacon Stones. The Stones he had worked on in the space time he had between his work on the pendants and they were already buried in the ground beside Aurin's front door, beside Sivan's, and one each by the doors of Aurin's other agents. Although the Lysanrin man did not seem to have a permanent home, moving often, and thus hadn't had one prepared for him. The Whispers all stayed in one place together, so they required only one, and Torin had placed one under the threshold to his own house for each of his friends. The cost to make them had been what he would have previously considered prohibitive, but now, well... he could afford it.
The gemstones themselves he had chosen for color and quality, assigning a different kind of each of the locations so anyone using the knobs could recognize them at a glance. The Traversionist who he'd hired to assist him, and to teach Aurin when he wasn't needed to work on either knobs or Stones had been intrigued by the idea, but not knowledgeable enough in runeforging to understand when Torin took the interest as an invitation to explain. The woman's ignorance had been quickly perceived, allowing the smith to stop trying to teach before it became awkward, or worse, insulting. The woman was, not flighty, she was able to hold her concentration, but, once she wasn't being given active work, her mind wandered. It made Torin begin to wonder how much receiving a cardinal rune changed a person. His own had certainly adjusted his personality but how much of that was the trauma of his threshold sickness, and how much was the etching of the rune itself onto his soul? It was not a question that could be easily answered, nor one that he was even qualified to seek an answer for. Another thing to ask Kala about when there was time.
For the moment, he worked, turning the knobs in the kiln and letting his thoughts do as they would.
