Weeks went by as Ludwig learned from Andre.
In those weeks, Ludwig was not allowed to forge blades.
Instead, he was given identical billets and was ordered to heat them under different temperatures, then ruin them on purpose to understand what ruin looked like when it was earned.
"Overheat one, underheat one, let one cool in the air, and bury one in ash." Andre tasked and Ludwig obliged.
The work was repetitive in a way that stripped ego clean.
Heat control first, then tal understanding second, and when Andre told him to break the billets, the differences were undeniable.
One fractured with fine grain and a clean face that spoke of restraint. One broke coarse and crystalline, the result of abuse, held a few seconds too long. One snapped brittle, punishing. One tore dull, yielding without strength.
"You must learn to read Death" was the sentence that stuck to Ludwig the most. Death wasn’t for the living alone, it was also the sa for that which has no will of its own.
The next week, Ludwig was tasked with morizing the reaction of different materials under different heats, and mixed in with different tals and other elents.
And whenever Ludwig would finish a task, Andre would have one ready for him. He was like a bottomless well that would take in anything and absorb it for knowledge. And that gave Andre pride.
Proud to teach.
Ludwig felt like his days were both calm and busy, calm because the forge had rules and rhythm, busy because those rules demanded attention at every step.
No news of the north reached the empire yet. The invasion of the peaks seed to be halted, yet it was not the ti for them to withdraw. At first, Ludwig was frustrated that he had not learned much in terms of tallurgy, and the frustration had a familiar taste, the taste of wanting the result without respecting the ti it took.
But he soon ca to realize that he was arrogant. Unlike a skill book, where he could understand it by rely reading it. This was a mortal craft. Sothing that people spent decades to learn, and he wanted to learn it in six months.
Arrogance and pride. The very sin he was seeking to destroy was corroding him.
Instead, Ludwig cald down and let the days go by as he absorbed everything from Andre. From tal nas, to their different behaviors, to their way of application, and how and when they needed to be applied. At first, anyone would think it useless. But Ludwig knew how to understand and not underestimate what a title ans.
[Lord of All that is tal] needs to be earned, and if the way to earn it was to understand tal, then he better understands every one of them.
One day, the forge was empty. It was only Ludwig there, which was strange, this was just a normal day, nothing of importance happened yet for the apprentices to not be here. The quiet made the workshop feel larger, the bellows silent, the benches still, the air holding only faint soot and the aftertaste of old heat.
"You’re here, co closer," Andre spoke.
"Seems rather empty," Ludwig said.
"Yes, today’s your final lesson," Andre said.
"Already? I thought I still needed to learn more."
"And you always will. That is a good attitude, keep it that way. Those who think they know, know nothing."
Ludwig nodded and got closer to Andre.
He was sitting by the forge; its flas weren’t too hot, and there was an empty chair next to Ludwig. The fire’s glow was gentle, controlled, as if Andre didn’t want heat to dominate the conversation.
"I wouldn’t be doing this with the apprentices here. They might hear, and it will lead them astray. You need to hear this, though," he said.
Ludwig agreed, knowledge that isn’t tily might ruin more than help. And for the apprentices who are already set on their own path, if they hear what isn’t aligned with them, it might simply make them either walk a different path or feel lost in their own.
"What is iron?" Andre asked.
Ludwig frowned. "A tal?"
Andre shook his head. "No, what is it?"
Ludwig hesitated for a bit, "A resource. A tool... a weapon."
Andre’s eyes hardened; he wasn’t pleased.
"Iron is not born of this world."
Silence echoed in the hall.
"It is forged in dying stars. In a fire greater than any forge you will ever build. It falls from the heavens in stone and buries itself in earth." He leaned closer, "n think they discovered it. They did not. It was given. A gift of great might and trial."
"Given?" Ludwig’s hand tightened.
"With power." Andre said, "Power to build and the power to destroy." He turned his face to the fire. "You wish to rule tal? Then understand it first."
He pulled a small cooling block of iron. He tapped it once with his tongs, and a couple of sparks leapt as the iron rang.
"This is older than your empire," Andre said quietly. "Older than your blood. Older than the stone beneath your boots." He let the sound fade.
"It fell from the heavens." A pause. "And you would claim lordship over it?"
Ludwig did not answer.
"That is pride, that is hubris," Andre said.
He turned the iron in his tongs. "n who believe they command tal shatter it. They force it. They rush it. They bla it when it breaks."
His gaze settled on Ludwig. "But the one who kneels... listens."
Another tap. A softer sound this ti. "He studies its temper. Its grain. Its hidden fractures. He bends when it must cool. He waits when it must settle."
The forge breathed low between them.
"And only then," Andre said, "does iron begin to obey."
Silence stretched.
"You do not rule what you do not understand." He leaned closer.
"But when you understand it... truly... when you have submitted to its laws long enough..."
His voice dropped. "Then you may shape it."
"And one who can shape without breaking... may one day rule."
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