Truths from the Past: Book 5 of the Kinstone series
Chapter 38: A new weapon

My hand vigorously scribbles across the surface of my Orkona, jotting down notes as I read through a book on Dewlouran history. I look over seeing a half-drunken glass of Jupta resting beside me, smiling as a bead of water rolls down the side. Ever since Celes introduced it to me, it’s become one of my favorite drinks. I reach over and pick up the glass, taking a sip, smiling as the sweet, tangy liquid rolls over my tongue.

I hold the glass as I stare at my notes, noting that I’m also a quarter of the way through my current textbook. It’s been a quiet day so far, we me not really having left my room all day other than for breakfast. To be honest…it’s been a good one.

I soon hear a knocking on my door.

“Come in,” I reply.

The door opens with me turning to see Serasfall entering my room. I smile, turning in my chair. “Hey Serasfall.”

She smiles, “Hello, my dear. I have to ask, but do you possess a weapon by chance?”

I tilt my head, looking at her strangely, “That’s a strange question to ask.”

She chuckles softly, nodding to me, “I agree. However, given your match with Fennec and what transpired at Court, I felt it was necessary to ask.” She moves a little closer to me, “Ever since you arrived, I noticed that you did not wear one whenever you left the estate.”

Well…can’t say I blame her curiosity. Then there’s my own in regards to why weapons were even allowed within the throne room.

I give her a slight smirk, “Well, I do have my bokken.” I glance over, seeing it resting on a small dresser beside me.

She leans over, “While I will attest to its reliability during training, it simply is not a true weapon, my child.”

Not going to lie, but she does have a point. A bokken really is just but a training weapon and not a full one.

Serasfall smiles, “Now…I want to know what else you have been carrying in that bag of yours. You possess many little treasures and trinkets from your era, namely your phone and camera.” She smirks, “I still cannot believe you sprang that little surprise of yours the other day.”

I grin, remembering how I walked in the study and surprised her with my phone, holding it up and recording her and then Celes. My grin soon fades as I reach over and pull my bag into my lap, “You’re right, I do have weapons.” I undo the clasp and lift open the flap, reaching in and pulls out my kodachi and dragon sword.

She tilts her head slightly, examining them. Serasfall slips on cloth gloves and reaches for my kodachi first, taking it into her hand. She rolls the sword in her hand. She slowly draws it, watching as the light shines off of the blade.

Her eyes flutter over the blade, “I have never seen such a weapon before. The craftsmanship is astonishing.”

Her face then grows sullen as she fully draws it, revealing its broken blade. The look of horror is clear within her eyes as she lightly traces over it.

She looks to me. “What happened?” she asks.

I sigh, still clenching my dragon sword. “During the last battle I was in, my opponent managed to destroy it using felfire.” I still hate Diana for doing that. These swords are incredibly precious to me and have also protected me. “I then fell back when more of her forces arrived and saw that Fenris and I were about to be outnumbered.”

She nods, stroking the blade. My grip around my other sword tightens, “I even wrapped both within dragonfire and kitsune-bi to counteract the felfire.” Both represent the prime flames of both the mortal and spirit realms, and I’m able to wield both thanks to being a kitsune and with the ability to transform into a dragon.

She nods again, looking to me. “An excellent strategy, my girl. However even so, I believe that the felfire would have still easily dispatched your flames because your weapon could not contain your power properly. It was not the fault of you or the smith who crafted this sword, but perhaps you simply had quickly surpassed its own inherent limits. You admitted yourself that your power as a nine-tailed kitsune is still young yet quite powerful.”

I nod softly. I know what she says is true. After I returned to my apartment after the December I spent with Mom, I resumed my magic studies. When I began them with infusing my magic into the crystals she gave me, half burst and exploded from the incredible increase due to both growing my eighth tail and bonding with Fenris.

She strokes the blade more, “You were also fighting against something that can destroy magic at its core. Felfire inflicts damage beyond the surface, striking at the heart of a person or object.”

I begin to choke up, feeling a knot growing in my throat as tears begin to form. I stare at both my swords, feeling a tinge of shame. “These were both gifts,” I say, “one from my sister and the other from one of my aunts.”

Both were gifts given to me during my first birthday on the Estate. I remember Asha and Silvi smiling with immense pride when I opened them and I cherished each greatly.

Serasfall leans over and cups my face, “Please don’t cry, my beloved girl. You should not bear any sin from what happened.”

I nod, still clenching my bag. When these swords were broken, I felt as though a piece of me was lost. A connection to both Silvi and Asha had been destroyed.

Serasfall then gently lays the kodachi onto the table beside me with me then handing her the dragon sword. As with the kodachi, she draws it and examines the blade, noting every facet and every detail. Again her face is filled with sorrow as she also finds it broken. I feel my heart sinking into the pit of my stomach.

She places it onto the table next to the kodachi and strokes each blade. “You were not careless in your battle, Aria. Retreating in the midst of an unwinnable fight is not cowardice. You fought wisely, analyzing your opponent’s moves and countered with the appropriate measures.” She then looks to me, “Do you know the difference between mana and magic?”

I smile softly, “Mana is the essence of a being while magic is the expression of said essence.” It’s a fundamental aspect of magical theory and of which much of the world’s magical philosophies.

She smiles brightly, “Excellent answer, my dear.”

I then sigh softly. “When I showed them to my yokai aunts, both said that neither could be fully restored.”

“I agree,” she replies. I sigh softly, feeling the same pit growing in my stomach.

She then smiles, looking to me, “Come with me, and bring them with you.”

I nod and sheathe them, picking them up and carrying along my bag.

We exit out into the courtyard, round the manor and walk towards another part of the estate that I’ve never been to. My ears are soon filled with the ringing of hammers striking metal. The constant tempo is no different than a soothing melody. I smile, remembering sitting in both Chinjaro-san’s and the salamanders’ forges, watching and listening to the singing of metal and dancing of flames.

We round another corner to find a pillar of billowing smoke rising from a building. A soft smile grows on my face as I realize that this is indeed another forge. Strange how I never knew it was here. Granted I’ve been on the other side of the estate busy with other things.

We enter inside, feeling the rising plumes of heat as they emanate from within. The ringing sounds of metal being hammered soon still sings loudly.

I look around, seeing rows upon rows of hammers, tongs and other tools hanging from hooks on walls. Several people mull about the forge, each working on various projects ranging from farm tools to plate armor.

At the center of the forge rest a massive dome-like furnace, feeling its immense heat and watching the glow of red and yellow flames as they dance within. I smile wider, having always held a fascination with the forge, watching as metal is placed into the fire and then brought out and hammered into whatever shape the smith needed. I love listening to the hammers as they strike down onto anvil, hearing it ring and watching as the sparks fly from the red-hot metal.

Sitting by the furnace, I see a bearded elderly man as he makes his finishing touches to a shin guard. He’s muscular, with the sides of his beard tied in the tight braids. Over his head he wears a thick bandana, while in front he wears a thick leathery apron over his clothes.

Serasfall smiles, “Greetings, Helgsven.”

The elderly man looks up and quickly rises to his feet, bowing, “Greetings, Your Grace.” His voice is a deep bass and his accent is a thick Scandinavian. It makes me think Viking in some way. “How may I be of service to you?”

She smiles, motioning to me, “Do you know who this child is?”

The elderly smith turns to me. A broad and warm smile stretches across his face. “That I do, my Lady.” He then walks closer to us, stopping but a few paces from where I’m standing. “I am forever honored to serve those in the line of Shyair.”

I blush softly up at him. I guess everyone by this point knows who I really am. I smile, “Hello sir. If you haven’t been told my name, it’s Aria.”

He beams, “I have indeed been told your name, my Lady. But now I am happy to finally be introduced to you personally.”

I smile, nodding to him.

Serasfall then looks to me, “Show him, my dear.”

I nod and slowly present the smith with both of my swords. He smiles and takes them from me. I watch him deftly unsheathe each and examines them. He moves each sword between his well-callused fingers, spinning and moving them around.

“Remarkable,” he says, “truly remarkable. I have never seen such beautiful weapons ever in my life.” He peers at the kodachi, “Truly beautiful, I daresay this is more art than made for battle.”

I blush deeply. Japanese swords really are among the most beautifully made weapons in the world. The hamon or temper line, is among my favorite aspects due to how intricate the patterns can be.

Helgsven’s face then drops into near sadness as he fully draws each weapon, seeing them broken. His fingers tremble with sorrow as he struggles to maintain his grip upon them. I see tears form in his eyes as he shakes his head.

He then looks to me, “May I ask what happened to them?”

I nod and begin to regale him of the last battle I was in, not leaving out any details. He slowly nods as he wipes his eyes. A smile then reforms on his face as he reexamines each weapon.

“I can tell these were loved and cherished,” he says. “The care and attention given to each of them is evident.” He looks closer, holding the edge of each weapon to his eye. “No nicks or blemishes on the blades, well-polished and clean. Any swordsman viewing these would be proud.”

I grin brightly. I always took exceptional of my swords, finding the practice of cleaning and sharping each one to be meditative and relaxing.

He takes another at the smaller of the two, becoming enamored by it. His eyes gaze about inquisitively, as though trying to solve a riddle.

I grin, “It’s called a kodachi and it was a gift from one of my aunts in a faraway land known as Japan.”

The smith smiles, “I have heard of tales coming from that country, tales of the sword masters, whom possess knowledge of craftsmanship that seem to defy all known logic.” He rolls the sword softly, “I have often thought of traveling there and learning from them.”

I smile. I know travel in the era is either by road or sea, meaning a trip from here would take months to accomplish. However, given this is an era where dragons fly openly through the skies, it might take him considerably less.

Helgsven sheathes the kodachi and examines the my other sword. “This…this was made using a dragon’s fang.” His smile broadens, “No doubt forged by elven hands. The flourishing of the grain is proof of their handiwork.”

I nod, still clenching my bag. “My sister used her own fang for its construction.”

“Your sister?” I hear a new voice echoing from deeper within the forge.

I peer over to see a tall bronze dragon-woman entering the main room. Her dark, tannish hair is tied into several tight braids and laid behind her shoulders. Her crimson skin seems to gleam as the fire glows against it. She smiles to me, “The young Lady Aria. I was hoping to meet you. I am Merian, Helgsven’s wife.”

I nod to her, “Hello Miss.”

She smiles, “The giving of a dragon’s fang is an incredible act of family. A sign of loyalty and trust.” The dragon moves around until she stands beside her husband, easily towering over him. I look around, see the others working around the shop appear to bear dragonic features similar to the woman before me. No doubt they’re her sons.

I nod. God I miss Silvi.

Helgsven then sighs deeply as he sheathes my dragon sword. “Sadly, we cannot repair these weapons. The damaged caused by the felfire, even though the corruption was removed, is still too extensive.” He then looks to me, “I however, can use these as materials to forge a new weapon.”

My eyes light up, “You…you can actually do that?” My heart beats wildly with excitement.

He grins, “That we can. However, given how you have two weapons here, I will need to know which will be utilized as the template.”

I tilt my head, “What do you mean by 'template'?”

“One shall be used as the form in which the new weapon will take shape,” he continues. “While the other shall be broken down into its base form.”

I reach over and stroke each sword. I love each of them dearly, each being part of who I am. However I must let go of one of them. I know whichever I choose will become a part of the new, it’s still hurts to say goodbye.

I look to him, “I choose the kodachi to be the template. It’s been my preferred weapon in combat.”

He nods and smiles, “Now I require a binder and quencher.”

“What do you mean by that?” I ask.

Helgsven holds the swords tightly to him, “In order to forge a weapon tailored to the person wielding it, I require soil and water from where they were born. Using this, I can truly make it a part of them.”

Serasfall looks to me. “Another reason I believe as to why your swords broke in battle is due to while they were forged for you, they were not made of you. A link between weapon and wielder is essential, much like the bond between wolf and person.”

I nod. The weeb in me recalls when Inuyasha has his sword broken, Totosai yanked a fang from the protagonist’s mouth in order to fix it. However I don’t think this is quite the same. This idea of the weapon being truly made to be a part of them takes the concept of the sword being an extension of the wielder to whole new levels.

I reach into my bag, thinking I might something I can use. My hand dives deep, with it reaching up to my armpit as I search around. A moment passes until my hand hits against something cold, feeling of glass. I take hold of it and pull it out, revealing the vial Velhemina gave me. I roll around the hourglass shaped vial, seeing the dirt and water shuffle about. I smile softly.

“What is that, my dear?” asks Serasfall.

I look to her, “This was yet another gift from one of my aunts.” I turn back to it, “It’s a tradition that alraune carry a sample of soil and water from where they were born.” This used to hang over my sword rack in my room, serving as constant reminder of where I was from, but also of who I became.

I close my eyes, delving into the vial. However something feels different. The water seems cleaner, purer while the soil is filled with more life and a soft, soothing feeling.

I then become shocked as instead of seeing the banks of the Tennessee River or my house in Chattanooga I see the rolling fields and meadows of my home at the Estate. I can hear the trees as they sway in the wind. My vision then takes me to my favorite outcropping along the lake. I watch as the water slowly buffets against the shore, hearing it wash along the rocks.

I open my eyes, staring at the vial. I know I was born in Tennessee, but what does this mean? Can soil and water, which I haven’t touched at all, somehow become transformed? The only person other than me who can open it is Velhemina herself. I know for a fact that the vial never left my room or its place on the wall. Whatever the reason, it happened and I just have to deal with it for now.

I look to him, smiling. “I should also let you know that I can transform into a ryujin, mermaid, dragon, alraune.” That was meant as a brag and something I do take pride in.

Serasfall smiles to me, “That may be true, my girl, but again you admitted yourself that you are now more kitsune than ever before. With these forms being more aspects of who you are.”

I blush, smiling. “Yep, it’s who I am at the core.” I am kitsune through and through. In how I think, talk, act, all of it. I am yokai.

Helgsven smiles as he looks to Serasfall. “Does she have a crystal?”

Serasfall shakes her head, “Not yet. But she is of age and is her right to claim one.” I smile blushingly, clenching the vial.

The smith nods and smiles, “I shall begin right away.”

I smile, “Thank you sir.” I then hand over the vial, feeling as if I’m letting go of yet another piece of me.

He grins, taking it, “You are quite welcome, Young Miss.”

My heart shutters as images of the combat maids, Lucayan, Warwick, Sebastian so many others come rushing back into my mind. Tears begin to form in my eyes as slowly step back and leave the forge.

“Aria? What’s wrong?” asks Serasfall.

Once outside I feel a rush of chilling air kiss my cheeks as I stand in the shadow of a tree near the forge. I hold my bag in front of me as I stare down at the stone tiles. My heart pangs heavily within my chest, feeling so much pain and loss.

“Aria, what’s wrong, my child?” I hear Serasfall ask again.

I turn to her, head still held low. “Sorry,” I say, wiping my tears, “I just haven’t been called that in months. I guess I miss home more than I thought.”

Serasfall pulls me into a tight embrace, stroking my hair. “As I told you before, I promise to find a way to send you home. I know you have been patient, my girl, even letting yourself slip into a routine to order your life.”

I cling tightly to her, “I hope this doesn’t mean that I’m ungrateful for everything you and Celes have done for me.”

She squeezes me tightly, “Never, my beloved child. I know you view this place also as your home. We are forever your family.”

I blush even more, clinging even more to her, burying my face into her chest. “I love you, Serasfall.”

I feel her kissing the top of my head, “And I love you, my Aria.”

We stay there for a moment, each knowing what feelings lie in the other’s hearts yet dare not speak them aloud. We each fear what might come of it, each not daring to cross that line.

I keep my barriers and walls in place, knowing that I can’t tear them downin fear of betraying my mother. I just can’t.

I’m hers, hers entire.

She then lets go, “You have something to say to Helgsven, my dear.”

I nod, wiping my tears, “Yes ma’am.”

She smiles as we turn and return to the forge.

Once inside I see Helgsven and Merian still standing there in confusion. I bow my head to him, “I apologize for my display. I didn’t mean to offend you if I did.”

He smiles, “No offense was made, my Lady, and I thank you.” I look up to him and smile. I then reach back into my bag and retrieve the remaining broken pieces of the swords, handing them to the smith.

Serasfall places her hand onto my shoulder. “Come dear, we have somewhere next to go.”

I nod and look to the smith, “There’s switch on the vial. That’ll grant you access to the soil.”

He smiles, “Thank you, my Lady.”

I smile and exit the forge again.

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