“You’re back!” Kat exclaid when Elvis returned to the smithy the following morning. She threw her arms around him and planted a long, deep kiss on his lips. The embrace only ended when her father loudly cleared his throat from within the workshop. “I thought you’d be away for longer.”
“ too,” Elvis replied, enjoying the feeling of her bosom pressed against his chest. He struggled to fathom how mories of their exchanges and ti in the apartnt upstairs didn’t lt El-Pri’s frigid heart. Kat was a sweet, beautiful woman and far better than anyone they’d been within almost a decade. “Penelope found multiple samples. They have the necessary ingredients for repairing the cracked shard. It was a decent delve, and we didn’t need to spend any more ti in the undercity.” He grinned. “I also wanted to get back to you as soon as possible. So, we didn’t let things drag out.”
“Aren't you sweet?” Kat smiled. She pulled away and gave him a once over, poking his chest and abdon and running her hands over his arms. “Good. Not missing anything. Lukas gets his shard. What about you? Is there anything in this for you besides money? Or is he and Penelope just letting you get hurt and rely on the shard to fix everything up?”
Elvis laughed. “Nothing of the sort. Lukey and I take turns. If the shard suits him well, he gets it. If not, it will be mine, and the next one goes to whoever is lagging. His ability isn’t combat-oriented at all, and I’d rather he get this one. I’m likely to get hurt a lot less if the little one can take care of himself.”
“Why am I not convinced?” Kat frowned, placing her hands on her hips.
“Trust , Kitty,” Elvis said, arm snaking around her waist. He pecked her cheek. “Besides, Lukas really impressed Penelope with his soul ability. She’s increasing his pay and giving him extra magic lessons. He promised to invest it all in a shard for . We’ve seen a few decent ones that his bonus might just be enough for.”
“Good. The last thing I want is for you to get carried away with your brother and this sorcerer and get hurt so bad the shard can’t fix it. I—” Kat caught herself. She broke eye contact and started toward the smithy. “Da and I agree that you have a talent for talwork. The billets were of high quality, and we’ve made amazing progress with the order. It would be a sha to lose soone like you.”
“Right.” Elvis grinned. “For the business. I know you weren’t expecting back today, but I can help. Maybe you can teach how to draw out a billet. Perhaps even help make a simple blade and identify the right ti for quenching?”
“I thought you ca down to distract from work and drag upstairs,” Kat said, eyes narrowing.
“Before or after, of course! If your father can spare you right now—”
“I can’t!” The old blacksmith yelled from within the smithy. It was always loud around the forge, but the man seed to hear everything the pair said to each other. However, he rarely interfered unless they were getting too carried away in the open.
“Stop eavesdropping, Da!” Kat yelled. She sighed, rolling her eyes. “I swear, just because I agreed to work with him, he thinks he can tell what to do. I’m a grown woman with a dedicated client base. I could go work elsewhere or even start my own shop if I wanted.”
The blacksmith said nothing. The rhythmic sound of the hamr on the anvil resud.
“But you won’t because you love your dad and don’t want him to get lonely.”
“And our client base is sowhat entangled.” Kat glared at him, hands on her hips. “So what are we doing?”
“Maybe upstairs for a bit and then get to work?”
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Kat nodded. “I supposed that’s acceptable.”
It was a productive afternoon. When the pair returned to the workshop an hour later, Kat guided him through the heating, drawing, and shaping of billets.
The pair worked side by side, wearing heavy gloves, aprons, and goggles with tinted lenses. Their alchemical treatnts provided ample protection from the heat and glow radiating from the furnace. It surprised Elvis that El-Pri had no interest in alchemy. It seed to play a significant role in Iskander’s artisanal field, working its way into all fields, including blacksmithing. He believed it would prove vital once they got around to their own ‘start-up.’
But if I think so, so part of El-Pri agrees. He just doesn’t know it yet.
Unlike her father, Kat utilized several modern tips and tricks. She used a magnetized piece of tal to check if the billet was hot enough. “Skill smiths can usually tell by color,” she explained. “I can, too, but that’s not always accurate or reliable. Materials often contain impurities. When you’re using scrap tal, you can’t always be sure of what else is in there. Eyes and ears might fail to discern the truth, but the lodestone never lies.”
Working in the smithy had done wonders for Elvis and, therefore, El-Pri’s body. Their wiry form was now well-toned. Arms, shoulders, and chest now also had hints of definition. Training with the Shadow Seekers and working as a courier helped improve their stamina, but they still had a long way to go. Fortunately, both clone empowernts ca with improved endurance. As a result, Elvis didn’t tire quickly, whether in bed, training with weapons, or hamring away at a glowing chunk of tal.
Several hours passed as Kat and Elvis worked side by side, working on individual billets. She finished significantly faster than him and moved on to other projects, but he kept her lessons in mind. He widened and lengthened the chunk of steel before smacking it on the anvil to get the desired shape. Initially, he took it too far and drew the gruff old man’s attention. He wandered over, grumbling, and guided Elvis through fixing the mistake.
“You’re using brute force,” the man said. “That might co in handy with billets and drawing out the tal, but shaping is an art demanding skill and a light touch.” He used the tong with both hands, holding the length of tal just past the narrowed tang. “You don’t always have to use the hamr. Sotis, the anvil is just as good.” he then carefully tapped the side on the anvil’s pointed end, giving the tal a slight curve. Then he returned it to the forge. “There is no rush when you’re learning. Advance a bit. Back into the heat. Advance a bit more, back into the fire.”
It was the first ti the blacksmith had shown such patience and spoken gently to Elvis, catching him off guard. “Thank you, sir,” he managed to say after finding the right words.
The process took Elvis more than twice the ti it had taken Kat. It still wasn’t perfect, but still decent. Lukas heated the blade up once more and used the magnet to know when it was enough just enough. He then quenched the dagger and held his breath. Much to Elvis’s relief, he heard no cracks.
“Good job,” Kat said. “We can’t be sure without a good grind, but I see no delaminations or major faults.”
“But, it's warped,” Elvis complained.
“That happens to Da sotis, too. Quench it again, and if that doesn’t fix it, we’ll leave it in the jig overnight.”
Lukas stared at the banana-shaped blade sitting on the anvil. When he tapped it, it wobbled, clattering noisily instead of laying flat. He picked it up by the tang and slid the blade end into the fire.
“Thank you for today,” he said, hugging Kat. His insides felt warm, and it wasn’t just because he had spent most of the day between a roaring furnace and the blindingly bright forge. “I had an incredible ti.”
“I did, too,” she replied, kissing his cheek. “You’re not a bad student.”
“He should quit delving and weapons training and pursue talwork full-ti,” the blacksmith stated, passing by. His voice had regained its gruffness. It seed to appear primarily when Elvis and Kat were in physical contact. Elvis was starting to think it was an act. “Risking talent in the undercity is foolish.”
“See. You got a complint from Da.” Kat laughed once her father disappeared into the shop connected to the workshop. “The blade might be warped, but it's better than most first blades. He’s genuinely impressed.”
“It’s all thanks to you.” Elvis’s heart fluttered, eyes locked on his work. He was proud of what he had done and hoped El-Pri would share his joy. Lukas hadn’t felt happiness in far too long. So much ti had passed since that clone struggled to rember what it felt like to be happy. However, between Kat and creating sothing usable and pretty out of scrap, Elvis believed that was it.
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