10 - 32 Ash, 121
Once the basic structure of the structural improvements was set into the metal of the lamps, a process that took just over two days of checking in on them and making small adjustments or encouraging nudges before the first aspect of the lamps was complete. Torin was able to remove them from the kiln and inspect them carefully through his largest aura glass. The strength and flexibility he had added to them would not protect them from intentional attacks, but it would from accidentally dropping them, and from the rain or other elements that might damage or mar them.
When he was satisfied that his work had gone to plan he set the lamps aside and fished the two Illumite shards from his pocket. They felt warm in his hands, which he knew was partly because they had spent all day in his pocket, but he imagined it was also partly caused by their own bright nature.
Taking an innate ability of a dragonshard and imbuing it into a runeforged project wasn't easy, but it was one of the most common ways to create a reforged item. Turning the shard itself into an outward projection of its own abilities was something else altogether. In some ways easier, since none of the magic was being removed or changed, and in some ways harder, since there was no other structure or item that could be used to teach the power what it was supposed to be doing. It would be a delicate process, taking almost a month in total to complete.
Torin would have other projects to work on as well, of course, and while the time spent carefully curating the shards to their new purpose would not be exhaustive in itself, it would need continuous off-and-on watching with hours of work at times. It was a labor of love for the smith though, something he wanted to do both for the result and the work itself. He rarely got to create something so pure, and while an amazingly magical sword might have been a more flashy example of his work to show off to customers, this more subtle show of his ability felt like it would earn him the type of customers he would want to work for.
Without rushing himself he sat at his runesmithing bench, ran his hands over the marble surface and began to work out the exact formula of how he would craft the subtle changes in the gems. It was several hours before he was sure he had memorized each step in turn, could repeat them to himself with his eyes closed. When he had the complex rhythm of the magic he intended to work firmly in his head, was able to hold it lightly, but firmly, like one holds an egg close to hatching, he began to hum. He did not know why it helped him, but it did; turning his movements to the beat of the music in his head and heart so they all worked in tandem together.
The shards were placed with unhurried touch into the kiln, where he let them rest as he gathered the tools he would need, his humming becoming a quiet song. As he turned them, opened them, began to call them forth from where they resided in the crystal structures of themselves the song grew louder. Not loud, but resonate as he worked, until the first tiny strands of magic began to peak their way tentatively from the Illumite as though curious as to what was so politely requesting them to do so.
As the strands grew longer Torin began to bend them, so slowly as to be hardly called movement at all. The changes would be very small, amplification more than anything else. If he noticed a weakness in the structures, or a lessening of certain innate powers he wished to emphasize he would make less minute changed, but they would require the same exquisite attention to detail and infinitesimal progress.
Over the next few weeks, the smith toiled diligently, the little changes in the shards making him feel happy and warm every time he came to check on them. Turning them to work on each facet, aligning them with the work already done till they shone bright and brighter and he had to shield his eyes to protect them. The intensity of the light would fade once the final piece of power had been laid into place to complete the enhancement entirely, but for the crafting the light would only increase over time. It was not a constant thing, waning and waxing with the movement of the sun, making it easier to slip in and continue the work after the sun had set. This meant that Torin spent many moonlit hours in his forge while Timon slumbered in his room.
Some nights Aurin was there, and would know when his boy woke to attend to his labor of love. He would even follow sometimes, watching and listening as the tall youth worked. Once in a while, Torin would be able to speak as he worked, explaining what he was doing or even just talking about how it made him feel to runeforge. But most of the time when Aurin listened it was only to the humming or wordless, rhythmed song that grew in complexity over the weeks the attuning required.
Perhaps the redheaded man used his special sight to observe more closely what Torin was doing. Perhaps he was able to see the way the song that poured from his boy, unabashedly in that place, connected to and even seemed to control the power being shaped. Torin did not ask, and it wasn't something Aurin mentioned at the time. Aurin didn't speak much at all when they were together and Torin was forging delicate things, which the boy assumed was so as not to disturb him and possibly cause issues. He appreciated Aurin's care as much as his presence and as those nights continued he began to wonder if the stones weren't shining a bit more red than they were yellow.
This too was a comforting thought, that the safety he felt around Aurin might translate, somehow, into the aura created by the lamps. If it did it would be a minor thing, and that was good too. Lamps that made everyone in their light feel safe to any greater extent could cause a lack of attention to real dangers.
The idea made him wonder if such a thing could be created intentionally and used to lull people into a false sense of security, to take advantage of them or even do them harm. His wandering mind began to construct a schema for such a thing, and even to begin to see how a person with the Mesmer rune could be used to implement the magic into the item before he realized what he was doing and how very dangerous putting such a creation into the world could be.
He couldn't burn a thought out of his head, but he could banish it. There were several such ideas, creative and interesting in their own ways but decidedly either dangerous or foolish enough that he refused to let them stay and possibly infect his other original work.
Over the days that turned into weeks, the work felt more and more personal, as though he had imbued a part of himself into the shards while he had changed them and they, in turn, had given to him. When, at long last, (though a part of him wished the project could just go on indefinitely) there was nothing more he could see to add, nothing more he could see to remove, he gently lifted the content Illumite pieces from the kiln, one at a time, and laid them onto a velvet cloth inside a box. He would place them into the lamps later, but for the rest of that day, and the night, he felt they had earned a rest.
Timon had been impatient throughout the forging, and it had kept Torin from starting another project that he'd wanted to keep a secret from his apprentice, so the older boy did not tell the younger that it had been finished until the next morning. He let Timon carry the lamp casings, shined bright with much polish by the lad while he had awaited his master finish what would make them shine from the inside.
Together they fixed the casings to their holders, installed on either side of the door, securing them well, for while it was a good part of the city, thieves were not unknown. When this was done Torin drew the shards from the box, spoke softly the words that would cause them to shine with a medium-light, and placed one in each lamp.
The light grew slowly, and the sun was in the sky, so the effect was not as dramatic as he would be when dusk came, but it was there, and unmistakably so. Torin grinned, and Timon grinned right back as the taller slung his arm around the shoulder of the younger. The two shining out their pride and joy to match even the Illumite lamps.
Once the basic structure of the structural improvements was set into the metal of the lamps, a process that took just over two days of checking in on them and making small adjustments or encouraging nudges before the first aspect of the lamps was complete. Torin was able to remove them from the kiln and inspect them carefully through his largest aura glass. The strength and flexibility he had added to them would not protect them from intentional attacks, but it would from accidentally dropping them, and from the rain or other elements that might damage or mar them.
When he was satisfied that his work had gone to plan he set the lamps aside and fished the two Illumite shards from his pocket. They felt warm in his hands, which he knew was partly because they had spent all day in his pocket, but he imagined it was also partly caused by their own bright nature.
Taking an innate ability of a dragonshard and imbuing it into a runeforged project wasn't easy, but it was one of the most common ways to create a reforged item. Turning the shard itself into an outward projection of its own abilities was something else altogether. In some ways easier, since none of the magic was being removed or changed, and in some ways harder, since there was no other structure or item that could be used to teach the power what it was supposed to be doing. It would be a delicate process, taking almost a month in total to complete.
Torin would have other projects to work on as well, of course, and while the time spent carefully curating the shards to their new purpose would not be exhaustive in itself, it would need continuous off-and-on watching with hours of work at times. It was a labor of love for the smith though, something he wanted to do both for the result and the work itself. He rarely got to create something so pure, and while an amazingly magical sword might have been a more flashy example of his work to show off to customers, this more subtle show of his ability felt like it would earn him the type of customers he would want to work for.
Without rushing himself he sat at his runesmithing bench, ran his hands over the marble surface and began to work out the exact formula of how he would craft the subtle changes in the gems. It was several hours before he was sure he had memorized each step in turn, could repeat them to himself with his eyes closed. When he had the complex rhythm of the magic he intended to work firmly in his head, was able to hold it lightly, but firmly, like one holds an egg close to hatching, he began to hum. He did not know why it helped him, but it did; turning his movements to the beat of the music in his head and heart so they all worked in tandem together.
The shards were placed with unhurried touch into the kiln, where he let them rest as he gathered the tools he would need, his humming becoming a quiet song. As he turned them, opened them, began to call them forth from where they resided in the crystal structures of themselves the song grew louder. Not loud, but resonate as he worked, until the first tiny strands of magic began to peak their way tentatively from the Illumite as though curious as to what was so politely requesting them to do so.
As the strands grew longer Torin began to bend them, so slowly as to be hardly called movement at all. The changes would be very small, amplification more than anything else. If he noticed a weakness in the structures, or a lessening of certain innate powers he wished to emphasize he would make less minute changed, but they would require the same exquisite attention to detail and infinitesimal progress.
Over the next few weeks, the smith toiled diligently, the little changes in the shards making him feel happy and warm every time he came to check on them. Turning them to work on each facet, aligning them with the work already done till they shone bright and brighter and he had to shield his eyes to protect them. The intensity of the light would fade once the final piece of power had been laid into place to complete the enhancement entirely, but for the crafting the light would only increase over time. It was not a constant thing, waning and waxing with the movement of the sun, making it easier to slip in and continue the work after the sun had set. This meant that Torin spent many moonlit hours in his forge while Timon slumbered in his room.
Some nights Aurin was there, and would know when his boy woke to attend to his labor of love. He would even follow sometimes, watching and listening as the tall youth worked. Once in a while, Torin would be able to speak as he worked, explaining what he was doing or even just talking about how it made him feel to runeforge. But most of the time when Aurin listened it was only to the humming or wordless, rhythmed song that grew in complexity over the weeks the attuning required.
Perhaps the redheaded man used his special sight to observe more closely what Torin was doing. Perhaps he was able to see the way the song that poured from his boy, unabashedly in that place, connected to and even seemed to control the power being shaped. Torin did not ask, and it wasn't something Aurin mentioned at the time. Aurin didn't speak much at all when they were together and Torin was forging delicate things, which the boy assumed was so as not to disturb him and possibly cause issues. He appreciated Aurin's care as much as his presence and as those nights continued he began to wonder if the stones weren't shining a bit more red than they were yellow.
This too was a comforting thought, that the safety he felt around Aurin might translate, somehow, into the aura created by the lamps. If it did it would be a minor thing, and that was good too. Lamps that made everyone in their light feel safe to any greater extent could cause a lack of attention to real dangers.
The idea made him wonder if such a thing could be created intentionally and used to lull people into a false sense of security, to take advantage of them or even do them harm. His wandering mind began to construct a schema for such a thing, and even to begin to see how a person with the Mesmer rune could be used to implement the magic into the item before he realized what he was doing and how very dangerous putting such a creation into the world could be.
He couldn't burn a thought out of his head, but he could banish it. There were several such ideas, creative and interesting in their own ways but decidedly either dangerous or foolish enough that he refused to let them stay and possibly infect his other original work.
Over the days that turned into weeks, the work felt more and more personal, as though he had imbued a part of himself into the shards while he had changed them and they, in turn, had given to him. When, at long last, (though a part of him wished the project could just go on indefinitely) there was nothing more he could see to add, nothing more he could see to remove, he gently lifted the content Illumite pieces from the kiln, one at a time, and laid them onto a velvet cloth inside a box. He would place them into the lamps later, but for the rest of that day, and the night, he felt they had earned a rest.
Timon had been impatient throughout the forging, and it had kept Torin from starting another project that he'd wanted to keep a secret from his apprentice, so the older boy did not tell the younger that it had been finished until the next morning. He let Timon carry the lamp casings, shined bright with much polish by the lad while he had awaited his master finish what would make them shine from the inside.
Together they fixed the casings to their holders, installed on either side of the door, securing them well, for while it was a good part of the city, thieves were not unknown. When this was done Torin drew the shards from the box, spoke softly the words that would cause them to shine with a medium-light, and placed one in each lamp.
The light grew slowly, and the sun was in the sky, so the effect was not as dramatic as he would be when dusk came, but it was there, and unmistakably so. Torin grinned, and Timon grinned right back as the taller slung his arm around the shoulder of the younger. The two shining out their pride and joy to match even the Illumite lamps.
