Arenya
had expected that as she spent more and more time in the lab working
on the new sword, she’d grow more comfortable there. She was right,
though not in the way she’d anticipated.
On the one hand, she’d learned the tools much more thoroughly by
this point than she’d gained through lectures, and felt confident
at this point that she could handle most any project Kazurist or any
other professor might think to throw her way. Arenya still had a long
way to go to reach Cartalis’ level, but her progress had been
excellent.
On the other hand, every time she entered, an almost zenlike state
enveloped her. This room had become her life. Nothing seemed to exist
outside of it by this point. Classes were a distraction. All the rest
only served this one purpose. On some level Arenya knew this wasn’t
a healthy outlook, but she and Cartalis were so deeply embedded in
this project by now that it was hard to think about things any other
way.
Perhaps that’s why Arenya’s hands shook as she finished up the
final round of diagramming. The blade’s intricate designs were
already finalized and carved into the metal. One final draft remained
of the pattern Benya wanted embedded on the hilt. After that, they
would attach the hilt to the blade…
And they’d be done.
Of course, in reality they’d only worked on this for a month and
a half at this point. It really hadn’t been that long. And yet,
Arenya had put so much into this, that the idea that she’d be done
soon left her feeling strangely empty.
Was she going to feel accomplished? Exhausted? Both?
Arenya took the unadorned piece of metal that would become the
hilt, held it up next to her diagram, and began making a few small
cuts to create the seven-pointed star design Benya demanded adorn the
hilt in seven places.
Somewhere deep in Arenya’s mind, she laughed at the fact that
she was even in the graduate lab doing this when specialized
equipment wasn’t at all needed for the hilt designs. Cartalis was
in the lounge working on an assignment for some other class, more
there as an excuse to let Arenya stay than because Cartalis’ help
was needed for this part. No magic was involved, just a bit of fine
motor control. There was no reason Arenya couldn’t be in a regular
lab, or even in her dorm room with a carving tool, but she’d spent
so much time here at this point that the lab became like a second
home to her.
Arenya moved on to the second star. The work was tedious and
mind-numbing, a raw copying of designs from one medium to another, so
Arenya’s mind wandered as she worked. Seven of sevens, Benya had
insisted multiple times in his notes about this design. Something
about that sounded familiar to Arenya from her grandmother’s book,
about the seven fundamental states of being, but the star was
something she wasn’t familiar with. Her mind wandered, wondering
what Benya’s intention for this sword even was.
It was all so strange, still. They’d been so busy creating the
blade for the promise of the money to save the family farm, but never
bothered to ask why. It’s not like he would have answered anyway,
most likely, but there was clearly something deeper at play than an
interest in a fine piece of art to hang over his mantle and show to
eccentric guests. Benya had a purpose for this. What could it be?Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
Well, maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe all that mattered was
getting the sword finished and the farm saved.
“My work is completed. How is the carving?”
Arenya closed her eyes, keeping them shut for a few seconds before
opening them again. “I’m…” She stared at the hilt. Six
completed stars, with the final one finished except for the
surrounding circle. “Nearly finished, I think.” Had she been
holding the almost-completed hilt, with but one circle remaining,
just staring at it unwilling to make the final cut? For how long had
she been here? “Let me just finish it now.”
Arenya’s steadied her shaking hands and cut the final circle.
And with that, the hilt was completed.
Cartalis picked up the hilt. “I shall attach it to the blade
now. It will take the better part of the rest of the week to fuse, so
there is no benefit in waiting.”
Arenya noticed Cartalis’ steps were unsteady. They were
<i>exhausted</i>.
A few minutes passed with no words, only the dull crackling of the
kiln and the sound of metal scraping against metal.
When the kiln door thunked closed, Arenya turned to look. She’d
been simply staring off into nothing for a while before that point.
“Well?” asked Cartalis. “Do you wish to write a letter to
Benya informing him of our success? We shall have to mention Zander’s
involvement. Hopefully, he will not be so terribly upset.”
Arenya shook her head. “Not now. I need a bit to think.”
Arenya and Cartalis trudged back to the lounge. Cartalis’ work
was all packed - she anticipated leaving soon, it seemed.
Arenya collapsed into one of the chairs. “Can we stay for just a
few more minutes?”
Cartalis frowned. “Why, pray tell?”
“Because… Because once we leave, we’re done.”
Cartalis took a deep breath. “Strictly speaking, that is not
quite true, but I understand your meaning regardless.” She sat
across from Arenya. “Have you learned some about the wonders of
research and magitechnology, Arenya? Have you grown accustomed to
spending your hours poring over equipment and raw metal? It is a
wonderful time, albeit exhausting.”
Arenya detected a hollowness in Cartalis’ voice.
“You’re just saying that because you feel like you’re
supposed to, aren’t you?”
“Is it that obvious?” Cartalis shifted. “Truth be told, I am
as exhausted as you. I hope for a week or two of not having to even
glance at a lab! Thus why I packed up all my items before asking if
the carving was completed.”
Arenya couldn’t help but laugh. “So even you need a break
sometimes!”
A comfortable silence settled over the two of them. After a few
minutes, Arenya stood and stretched. “All right. I’m ready to
go.”
Arenya gave one last wistful look back at the lab as the door
closed with a final <i>thunk</i>.
As they walked back towards their dorms, Arenya asked, “So, what
do you think Benya wants the sword for?”
Cartalis paused for a brief moment. Arenya almost didn’t notice.
“I am not certain,” she said.
“But you have a guess?”
“I do. But personally, I’m somewhat hoping we never find out
for certain. I hope to recieve our reward and be done with the man.”
Cartalis grinned. “Well, if he speaks highly of us and earns us a
few more commissions of this level of wealth, that might not be so
terrible either.”
Arenya’s eyes widened. “Wait… you mean we could have more
people coming to ask us? If people keep paying us this much, we’ll
be rich!”
“Let us not get ahead of ourselves. We do not know if we will
get further commissions, and I doubt they’ll all pay nearly this
well if we do. And I, for one, do not intend to overwork us like this
a second time for most any price.”
Arenya nodded. Her excitement dwindled a bit. Cartalis was right,
of course. No matter how well they paid, they’d work themselves to
death if they continued like this indefinitely. Possibly literally.
But still, to just imagine the rewards that would await with that
kind of money. She could finally get her mother the money to return
to an academy herself, or funds to hire a dozen assistants.
But questions like that could wait until tomorrow. Right now,
Arenya didn’t want to worry too much about the distant future.
Instead, she hoped for something simpler: lunch and a bit of rest,
the largest project she’d ever undertaken behind her, and her
family’s farm secure.
And at the end of it all… she felt good about it.