Feral: Chapter Eight

The next day, Katya came over. And so did Hasha. I’d been going over my plans with Katya when he entered, wearing a red shirts this time. True to form, he immediately broke the ice with a joke.

“Oh, and you must be Katya,” he smiled, holding his hand out politely. “Delighted to meet you my dear, though I must say, you aren’t what I expected.”

With an odd amount of gravity, a paw lifted up and shook Hasha’s hand. Mountain nodded at Hasha with far more dignity than a dog should have.

“Hasha,” I said, blushing in embarrassment at the bad joke from one of my mentors. “This, is Katya.”

I picked her up by the elbows and plucked her down in front of Hasha. Katya was no help. The blonde was giggling at the sight of Hasha shaking Mountain’s paw, and seemed just on the edge of full on guffaws.

Apparently she had a love of bad jokes. Hasha was going to love her then.

“Really?” he winked at Mountain, who grinned back. “Ah well. Good to meet you, my lady,” he bowed gracefully.

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” she saluted him with a bright smile. “So you’re Char’s teacher?”

“Master, actually,” they both ignored the startled look I gave him. “I consider him my
apprentice, despite the rules in place that keep me from declaring it in truth.”

For a moment, I felt a spot of vertigo. After all these years, he’d finally admitted that he thought of me as his apprentice. This was—

“Why wouldn’t you be allowed to declare it?” Katya frowned. “Why is it against the rules?”

I stared at her. Hasha stared at her. Even Mountain somehow gave the dog version of a dumbfounded glance.

“What?”

“…He’s a half-orc,” Hasha said hesitantly. “And the ruling council of Jarvin Tower would never allow an orc, half or otherwise, to be declared a true wizard.”

She gasped in shock. “That’s not fair!”

What was happening right now? Was she really that naïve?

“Char isn’t like the orcs who’ve killed people! They shouldn’t paint him with the same brush!” she shook her head, scowling. “There are lots of humans that are
killers, but that doesn’t make us all killers! The ruling council must be stupid,” she looked hard at Hasha. “Are they? I’ve never met them, you see.”

“…You, my dear, are a rare gem,” Hasha declared.

“Oh. Thank you?”

“You are welcome, and thank you as well.” Hasha smirked. “Yes, the ruling council of wizards has often made decisions based not on rational thoughts, but on flares of emotion. Char is, at best, a minor instance of this.”

“Hmf,” I grunted, somehow insulted.

“Tell you what my dear,” Hasha gallantly held out an arm for her. “As I understand it, you have much to learn about the world. Would you like a brief lesson?”

She nodded eagerly, taking his arm.

“Good. Then follow me into the living
room. I think we should start with,” he walked off, spinning tales
of the world as the Prophesied Child listened intently.

I looked over at Mountain. He looked back me.

“…He was testing her,” I explained. For some reason, I felt that I had to explain, that I was being politely asked to.

Mountain barked, eyes widening.

“First, he made that joke. That was to see how she views herself. Extreme anger at the perceived insult might be signs of an overly sensitive nature. An underreaction might have been signs of low self-esteem, a possible sign of as abuse as child.”

Mountain growled, showing what he thought of the last.

“She found humor in it, showing a high confidence tempered with an easy going nature.”

Mountain still seemed offended.

“He does these little tests at times,” I shrugged. “They give vital information to him. It’s not an exact magic of course,”

I turned away from the far too intelligent dog to start working on my schematics again. Come to think of it, he’d made a joke when he’d met me as a child. I thought he’d been making fun of me, so I refused to speak. He then switched tactics accordingly. So even back then, he’d been testing me. Odd to think of things that way.

As Hasha began to teach Katya in the living room, I finished up my plans.

The armor would incorporate my steel cotton directly into it. I’d test if I could make the carbon lattice I’d been planning on instead, but the idea was to stack steel cotton sheets beneath the steel plates I was making. With the strength of the plates I could make, the steel cotton surround each piece would further protect her while still letting me reach my quota. I’d need steel, both for the plates and the transmutation process. Cotton as well, though silk might work even better due to already being a tough piece of cloth, thought I’d need to test that.

Another part of the process would be my cooling plates. They were different sized sections of metal that had the rune thurizaz to direct destructive force, and the rune isaz for ice etched onto them. The largest was a meter across, and the smallest as a couple of centimeters. Using them, I could cool off metal faster than normal, without sacrificing the strength and durability of the metal. It worked by using the thurizaz rune to direct the destructive heat within the metal into the cooling
effect of isaz. It took time to make each one, but the cooling plates had been invaluable in speeding up the work in the shop, and they’d be a huge asset for making Katya’s armor.

My runes were planned out as well. Ones to increase durability, lessen weight, promote mana regeneration, so on and so forth. The only issue was her Light magic. I wasn’t sure how to increase that. There were runes that dealt with concepts of
light, but not Light.

Well, I had her here for a reason, right?

With that thought, I walked across the room and entered the living room. Mountain followed, somehow slipping through the door despite being far too large.

“Katya?”

She looked up from the map Hasha had spread out on the dining table.

“Hmm?”

“How much do you know about Light magic?”

Katya blinked her bright eyes in confusion. “Um… it is the manifestation of divine power, through believe and faith.”

“True enough,” Hasha leaned back in his seat. “The power of the Light is a form of magic, but it manifests different manner than what I’m used to. Light, natural
light, comes in the form of waves, in particles. I know that, if focused, it can become intense beams of heat. It can also be redirected, to allow a person or object to be invisible. It is, to my knowledge, the fastest moving thing in existence.”

He shrugged. "But it can’t create physical shields, heal diseases and wounds, or strengthen a person for a brief time. And yet, I’ve seen paladins and priests do all
these things. The Light seems to work based on the way its users believe it should. That is the problem with spiritual magic. When Char,” he waved towards me, “makes a dagger, just a simple dagger, his belief, intent and willpower have no play in the process. He follows the steps, and the dagger is created. As long as he does
things the right way each time, a dagger will be created. That is the reliable nature of physical magic. But then there is spiritual magic,” he waved at Katya and himself. “If I am especially enraged, I can create fireballs as large as houses. I assume, Lady
Katya, that you have a similar situation.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “The more I believe in the righteousness of my fight, the better I am.”

“Indeed,” he stroked his chin. “What are you trying to do, Char?”

“Well,” I said slowly. “I want to see if I can enhance her use of Light magic somehow. If I can understand what she can do, then I can understand what I am doing. I know of several runes meant to improve efficiency of spells, or the destructive potential of them. But I don’t know how they’ll react with the Light.”

“Well, this calls for my favorite activity!” Hasha rubbed his hands together, eyes gleaming. “Let’s do some experiments!”

------

“Okay, stand there,” Hasha directed Katya into the center of a set of runes in the middle of my workroom floor.

“What are these for?” she kneeled to look closer at one of the runes.

“It’s something Hasha made for me,” I explained, sitting down next to the door to flip open my notebook. “A safe zone. When I use spiritual magic, it keeps whatever I do inside that space. That way I can study the effects as carefully as possible without worrying about outside influence. Or explosions.”

“Explosions?” Katya looked up from where she’d poking eihwaz, the rune for protection. Algiz, another form of protection, rested next to it, both runes about as
big as a hand

ᛇ-Eihwaz

ᛉ-Algiz

“Spiritual magic can be volatile. So can physical magic can as well for that matter,” I explained.

“Do you use this to protect you from physical magic too?”

“No,” Hasha answered her. “For that, we depend on physical barriers. Like three feet of stone and a few inches of steel plate.”

She stared at him in silent alarm.

“Don’t worry.” I reassured her. “We just want to see you use you magic. The runes will help tell us what you're using and why. Go ahead.”

Still nervous, she nodded quickly. Then, taking a deep breath, her hands came alight. This close, the golden glow around her hands seemed somehow soothing. Peaceful.

Then she started moving. Slowly, as though she was fighting hordes on invisible opponents, she moved from kicks, to punches, to simple blocks, all of them done with a graceful sort of dancing form.

“Hm,” Hasha leaned forward. “She’s well trained. If I were to guess, they taught to use this to learn how to better use magic in conjunction with combat. Her magic flows with each blow. Take note of that.”

“Already am,” I followed the movement of the magic she was using. From what I could tell, she was chanelling the same energy Hasha (and I as well, though to a lesser extent) used for his magic. However, it came out only as the Light. It flowed through her as though following veins that didn’t exist. It couldn’t be seen, but it could be sensed, if one had experience with it. Like being able to sense heat in the air.

As she moved, a knock came at the door to the workshop. Hasha rose to get it. As he did, I noted something interesting about Katya’s form. She was slowing down, her light dimming.

“Are you getting tired?” I asked in worry.

She nodded. “Yes. Manifesting the Light on a constant basis can be hard. That’s why I prefer to use it in short bursts. It lets me conserve my energy.”

“Huh, smart.”

“Thank you!” she said brightly.

“My lady,” Richard poked his head in to look at us, then frowned at the sight of Katya glowing as she moved through forms in the center of a runic circle while I wrote notes. He frowned. “What is this?”

“Char wants to see me use the Light so he can make my armor,” Katya said happily.

He frowned further at the runic circle. “Is… that safe? I once saw a wizard kill himself in an explosion when he used runes like that. At least, I assume it was an explosion. There was a lot of purple.”

“If there was an unplanned explosion, then that wizard was a fool,” Hasha said firmly, stepping around Richard to enter the room. “Runes are a precise magic. I have trained Char to be very careful in their use.”

“And you are?” Richard asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Hasha Nin. An accredited Jarvin Tower wizard,” Hasha reached into his pants pocket and took out the bronze amulet of a wizard.

Richard looked at the amulet, raising an eyebrow. He looked over Hasha’s simple garb. “You’re a wizard?”

“We don’t all enjoy wearing thick robes and full beards on hot days,” Hasha said dryly.

“So you’re the one that taught the orcling.”

“The one who taught Char, yes.”

Richard grunted, then nodded at me. “Arthur says he’s going to pick up those materials you decided on. I’ll be coming along to pay for everything.”

“Got it,” I wrote down a final note about Katya’s apparent preference for speed once again, then rose from my chair. “We should be good now. Thank you Katya.”

“That’s what I’m supposed to say,” she giggled, then looked over at Richard. “Um, can I stay with Hasha? He said he’d teach me.”

Richard frowned. “I’m not so sure about that. The Arch, um, the leader of the Chapel,” he clarified towards me, possible assuming (correctly) that I’d have no idea who that was, “won’t like an unknown man teaching you.”

“As I said,” Hasha stepped forward. “I am accredited. I promise to teach her nothing that the Jarvin Tower does not. Only simple knowledge of the world.”

“Hmph,” clearly not caring much either way, Richard nodded. “I suppose one day won’t hurt.”

Minutes later Richard, Arthur, and I were on our way in a cart he’d rented, leaving Katya and Hasha in our house as a contingent of guards stood watch over her.

------

When we reached the market, Richard hopped off the cart to go get some coin for our materials. Arthur guided the massive workhorse towards the docks where metals dug by dwarves from the Acore Mountains was brought by river boat to the
city. A lot of it would be headed to the Eastern Continents, but the rest went into various projects around the city. Blacksmiths like me, construction projects, jewelers, so on and so forth.

The streets were packed. Vendors yelled out about their wares as people strode around the area. Our cart wrestled past other horses and carts as we pushed through the crowd and people strived past. A street urchin reached into my pocket as we rode past, only to look up at me in disappointment when he realized
my pockets were empty. When he looked up, I winked at him, getting a blush before he ran into the crowd, followed by his friends.

I loved these streets. While I may not be liked, I was at the least tolerated by most. Dwarves, humans, and halflings roamed the dirty streets, and payed me little to no mind. There were glares, but nothing like the crowd I’d gotten up in the Nobleman’s section of the city.

It was as I thinking of this that Arthur began to speak.

“So,” Arthur shook the reins a bit, “been a lot of change in our lives.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “…You might be understating.”

“No, you’re overstating,” he said firmly. “This is just a blacksmithing job. Bigger than most, yes, with danger to it. But still a job, and one you will do well. The change is all the new people we’re rubbing soldiers with.”

I nodded at that. “Yes. Been a lot more shiny people in armor glaring at me lately.”

“And at least one who’s got nothing but good feelings towards ya’,” Arthur spat to the side. “The Prophesied Child calling on little Char for help.”

“Little?”

He barked out a laugh. “You’ll always be little to me brat! And don’t ignore my point. How’s it feel, having Katya have so much faith in ya?”

“It’s a lot of pressure,” I shook my head. “I just don’t understand why she decided on me. It seems odd, to have that much faith in someone.”

“That’s cause you’ve never made friends,” Arthur said bluntly. “Me and your dad were the same way. We met one time, and immediately decided we were best friends. It’s how most people make friends. You just meet someone, like ‘em, and if you stand them for more than a week, you’re friends.”

“That… doesn’t make sense,” I frowned. “I mean, aren’t friends supposed to be more meaningfully made?”

“No. That’s the thing about friendship. It isn’t complicated. Just do right by them, and if they do right by you, then they’re your friends,” he shrugged. “Well, barring them suddenly turning out to be right ponces all of a sudden. Which happens. Just means you try again. Besides, I don’t think you have to worry about little Katya suddenly selling you out for gold. She seems like the honest type.”

“See, now that’s understating it,” I said with a smile. Then, I frowned at the sight ahead of me. “What in the hell is this?”

Up ahead, in the crowded streets, a group of guards were walking towards us. As we watched, they began to split up to head towards people. As I watched, the various citizens and the guards started arguing.

“I don’t know,” Arthur frowned. “Why would the city guard be here in force? Is a damn invasion coming?”

“Maybe he knows,” I pointed at a man striding towards us, flanked by two guards. He was similar in style and build to the official who had come to pick me up… was it
two days ago? Felt like longer.

“Peasant!” he called to Arthur haughtily. “I require papers!”

“Papers?” asked Arthur. “What papers? For riding through the market?”

The official sneered. “The Prophesied Child walks among us now. As such, the Regent’s Lords and Ladies have called for us to begin searching for the signs of any assassins. And you, for obvious reasons,” he turned his sneer to me. “Seem
especially suspicious.”

“Well I don’t have papers,” Arthur spat out. “I’m just a damn blacksmith!”

“Then you will have to be detained, until we can prove you are who you are. My apologies.”

I frowned, and let the full growl of my voice come out as I spoke. “I somehow don’t think you mean that apology.”

The official smirked. “I don’t,” he nodded to his guards, who stepped forward.

“Can’t I leave you alone for two damn minutes?” asked a voice behind the cart. When we turned, Richard was striding towards us, carrying a small bag that jingled happily with coin. “What is the meaning of this?”

The official looked over Richard. Despite noting the armor, he didn’t seem to recognize the caretaker to the Prophesied Child.

“Papers, knight. Without papers, and thus proof of citizenship to this city, I must detain those men and women for the possibility of their being assassins attempting to kill the Prophesied Child.”

Richard blinked. I think that on some level, he was seeing the situation as absurd as I did. Here we were, getting materials to protect Katya, and we were being accused of a plot to kill her. Was that coincidence or irony? I could never tell the difference.

“That is a massive waste of resources,” Richard mused. “There aren’t enough guards to search out every person, let alone to arrest that many people! Do you understand how much that would cost to fund!?”

The official stared at him. Then, slowly, he smiled. “Yes, you might be right. I could, I suppose, look the other way. If you helped to, ahem, fund the process?”

The two guards smirked. Arthur and I looked at the bag of coin Richard held.

“Oh?” Richard quirked an eyebrow.  “I see. Well then,” He lifted the bag and opened it. Reaching in, he took a small handful into his hand, just enough gold coins to fit
into a fist. The official eagerly stepped forward, eyes filled with greed.

Richard punched him in the face.

I coughed down a laugh at the sheer suddenness of the action. Arthur didn’t hold back, bellowing in laughter. The official’s guards, those people who had been watching us, and the bloody mouthed official, stared in shock at Richard. The
armored knight reached down to take a handful of the official’s shirt in his fist, lifting him up.

“G-Guards!” The official cried out around a mouthful of blood.

All around, the armored soldiers strode towards us, while the two that had been attending the official drew steel.

“Belay that!” Richard barked. All the guards froze instinctively at the authoritative tone he used, the tone of a man used to his orders being followed. Richard pulled the official up until the shorter man was forced to balance on the tips of his toes. He snarled in the face of the official. “Do you know who you just tried to solicit a bribe from?”

“I-I, what—”

“No, you don’t. I am Richard Dedicat, a knight of the Chapel of Valor, caretaker to the Prophesied Child, and man who you just pissed off.”

The official’s blood drained from his
face. “I-I… I didn’t know!”

“Who gives a damn what you knew!?” Richard spun the official around to slam him into a cart. “You, an elected official of the people, just tried to solicit a bribe. You
are in the midst of an operation that I know for a fact the Regent would not have approved, and you have the gall to act like things would be different if I was just a peasant? I could be the poorest beggar of the streets or King Thur himself! By the Light, the law is the law, and you will follow it!”

He pushed the man to the ground.
Richard looked up at the guards. “Arrest this man, now.”

“Sir?” the guards looked at each other.

“Did I stutter?” Richard’s eyes became something akin to a raging fire in their intensity. “Arrest him, and take him to prison. I will send a message to the Regent.
This illegal operation is being shut down. And if I discover any of you continuing this, I will come down personally to every Guard Station in the city to beat the living hell out of you.”

“You can’t speak to us like that!” a guard cried. His blade still unsheathed, he tightened a gauntleted hand on its hilt.

Richard cocked a gravely eyebrow. Then he strode forward and backhanded the guard in a slap. The guards head twisted to the side, then snapped back to look at Richard, enraged. That rage faded when the knight stepped in to look at him with all
the authority of a king.

“I am a knight. I obtained that title through blood and death, specifically so I could speak to trumped up little shit’s like you however I damn well please. Now if you feel up to doing something about that,” he nodded at the guard’s sword, “take a swing. And we can settle things like men.” 

The guards all looked at each other. None of them moved. “…”

“Get out of here,” Richard turned away. He rested the bag of coins on the seat next to Arthur, and opened his fist over it, letting the coins he’d collected therespill into the bag.

Arthur and I shared a look, then looked over at the guards. The guards noticed me, and one raised a hand.

“The orcling’s with me,” Richard said without looking over his shoulder. “Now don’t make me repeat myself.”

The guards rushed away. As people milled around and stared at him Richard hopped into the cart.

“Come. We have work to do.”

Arthur chuckled. “Yes sir.”