TS5: Chapter 5 (Patreon)

This was not the first time he had done this, but he found that each time he learned new things, gained new insights, and so had made it a regular part of his meditation. Reviewing the first memory, his surroundings changed to an old derelict forge. It was night, the stars glittering brightly overhead, and the moon casting a wide glow on the earth, covering everything in a sheen of silver. From the position of the moon in the sky, it was clearly early in the morning hours, and everyone should have been asleep, but the ring of a hammer broke the stillness.

Through the windows of the run-down forge, Thorn could see an old man, his back bent with age and the weight of his broad shoulders, bringing his hammer down, each stroke following smoothly after the last. Though he had witnessed this scene a hundred times already, Thorn found himself marveling at the sound the blacksmith managed to produce. The vibration from each hammer blow was perfectly tuned to the metal that he worked. As Thorn drifted closer, he heard that sound take on an urgent undertone.

It was here, in this small, ratty building, that the first version of the alloy came to be. What would eventually be known as immortal iron, was first created at the hands of a no-name master blacksmith. After what felt like hours, the blacksmith suddenly stopped, his hammer showing hesitation for the first time. Sweat dotted his brow, and carved rivulets down his cheeks through the coal dust that blackened them. Like a frozen statue, the blacksmith stood, his hammer raised above his head, staring down at the metal. An expression of reverence, and something akin to fear, filled his eyes, as if he didn't know if he should land his final blow.

Finally, however, his hesitation vanished, and his hammer fell, producing the clearest, most distinct note Thorn had ever heard in his life. The sound was so great it shattered the memory, sending it tumbling into shards, sending Thorn flying with it. Fracturing into millions of pieces, the memory reformed once again, this time showing the same scene, though instead of the small blacksmith's shop, there was a massive factory that had been built up in its place. The sound echoing from the building was nearly deafening, as hundreds of workers took turns hammering out a piece of metal in teams of ten. Each held a massive hammer in hand, groaning under its weight as they lifted it high and brought it down, while two other men held the metal with tongs, doing their best to keep it from bouncing off of the anvil.

Through the midst of the chaos strode a large, middle-aged man, a thick red beard on his chin. Making his way through the sweltering heat of the forge, he came to a small back room and stopped at the door, bowing his head respectfully. Though Thorn couldn't hear the command he received, the large blacksmith entered the room, stopping once more as he witnessed an elderly blacksmith working with a crucible. This was the second stage of the immortal iron's development, and arrayed in front of the old blacksmith performing the experiment were hundreds of small samples of metal. He worked with precision and skill, occasionally stopping to write something down on a paper next to him. More than once, Thorn had peeked at the paper, memorizing everything that it contained.

Finishing up what he was doing, the old man paused his experiment and turned to look at the middle-aged, bearded man who had entered. He took the small box that the man held out. With shaking hands, the old man opened the box, revealing a small silver sliver of tempest steel, which he held up triumphantly. With careful movements, the old man cut a fourth of the small sliver of metal, and with clear nervousness, added it to the crucible, causing the entire mixture to take on a whitish-blue hue.

One after another, memories flowed, revealing to Thorn the entire time-line of the development of this metal. He paid careful attention, always looking for new things in the scenes that he had not seen before. Two hundred memories, spanning close to forty generations, as far as Thorn could determine, revealed the long and secretive history of the metal that had become known as immortal iron.

Thorn watched as the Renith Empire was built up around that simple forge, watched as weapons and armor forged of this alloy allowed the Renith Empire's armies to march out to battle and return home victorious. The wealth and prestige surrounding the simple forge grew until they were enough to boggle the mind. But always, the secret of the metal's recipe was kept hidden, passed down to only a single disciple in each successive generation.

The memories ended with the last Grandmaster Blacksmith, who inherited the recipe just before the Renith Empire fell. This last memory was different, and it was with a somber heart that Thorn watched it. The forge where the metal was first created had long since changed, transforming into a monstrosity closer to a fortress or a temple than a blacksmith's forge. Hundreds of thousands of blacksmiths and soldiers worked tirelessly among its halls, forging the metal that kept the empire dominant.

Yet, in the very center of this tremendous structure, there was a small room that had remained entirely unchanged. It was there an old man with a long beard of pure white sat, his eyes downcast, never once picking up the hammer that lay discarded next to the cold forge, never once looking at the countless precious metals arrayed on the table, waiting for further experimentation. Even when others came to knock on the door of the small room, he turned them away with harsh words.

At first, Thorn hadn't understood what was going on. But the more he watched the memory, the clearer it became. He could see the disease starting to eat away at the old man's body, could see the sores beginning to open up on his flesh. The magical sickness that had brought down the Renith Empire had infected the only one who knew the recipe of the immortal iron.

Eventually, there came a knock the man could not ignore, and after steeling himself, he rose and opened the door. Into view stepped a figure that Thorn knew well. The master of the ruins, the powerful mage who ruled Renith as emperor, stood before the old man, receiving from his hand the memory shard that the old man had been clutching. Here were stored the memories of each of the master smiths who had inherited the secret recipe. This was the knowledge upon which the foundation of the empire was built. But for the old man, it was too late to pass on his knowledge and skills. He had already delayed as long as he could, and even as he let go of the memory crystal, he slumped to the ground. His body shook with pain, his mind broken with agony, and he let out a shout. The emperor called for the best physician, but they underestimated the power of the cursed disease. Soon, it had spread, destroying their empire and their world in the process. What had seemed like hours or even days had truly only passed by in a few minutes.

Carefully controlling his breathing, Thorn opened his eyes. It was time to try again. Moving in a sort of trance-like daze, Thorn began to heat the crucible, using the forge to preheat the metals that he would be mixing together. The process was relatively simple once one understood the trick of it, but without infusing mana at the correct moments, there was no way to mix the various metals that made up the immortal iron alloy.

With his domain entirely extended, Thorn added each piece of metal as it reached the correct temperature, using the crucible to melt it down even further before adding the next. He and Eve had run this simulation tens of thousands of times, but doing something in simulation and doing it in reality were different. He had already attempted this recipe more than a hundred times. He had a good feeling about this one; however, and as he carefully mixed the metals together, using a thin strand of mana, he did his utmost to keep his concentration honed and precise while carefully monitoring the temperature of the mix of the liquefied metal.

Minutes clicked by, transforming into hours, as he remained in front of the crucible, doing his best to avoid ruining the mixture. Each time he had failed, he and Eve had determined what it was that he had done wrong, and carefully fixed that problem. And so he was able to get through the first few hours of the process without too much trouble.

Eventually, however, he arrived at the most crucial part. It was here he had failed last time, in not understanding the effect the various metals in the alloy would have on one another, and not controlling his heat properly. Additionally, in adding the last material too late, he had ruined the whole batch, destroying a few destiny points worth of material in the process. Now, however, he was confident he wouldn't recreate those same mistakes once more.

With a calm heart and steady hands, Thorn carefully adjusted the temperature of the cauldron, pulling some of the heat out as the material, the melting metal, mixed together. It was a fine balance to walk to keep the internal temperature consistent, but thanks to his immaculate mana control, he was able to do it. As soon as the timer that Eve had set went off, Thorn added the material that he had been holding over the pot, allowing it to drop in and begin to melt.

Now came the final moments, and as Thorn carefully poured the molten metal out to cool off, he carefully infused it with mana, as he had seen the master smiths in his memory do. Compared to all of the other parts, this was relatively easy for Thorn, but only a minute in, he knew he had messed up once more.

"This isn't right," he said, his eyes sharpening.

"What do you mean?" Eve asked, staring at the molten puddle of metal, and then up at him. "The composition looks almost exact to me."

"The resonance isn't there."

"I'm sorry, did you say resonance?" Eve asked. "What are you talking about?"

Letting out a sigh, Thorn tapped his finger against the side of the crucible he had been using. "The sound, the vibration that the metal makes when it cools, it's not going to have the same resonance. There's still something wrong."

"How is that possible, Thorn?”

“The recipe is exact, which means that we're missing something. A piece of the recipe," Thorn said. "There must be something more that they're adding to this."

It only took about an hour for the metal to cool, and once it had, Thorn picked it up and examined it. On the surface, it looked exactly like the immortal iron that he had seen all over the Renith ruins. But when he tapped his finger against it, a frown came to his face.

"Do you hear that?" he said.

"I do," Eve replied, her eyes narrowing. "But I don't understand. Again, on a molecular level, this is the same stuff. The structure is almost exact, so why would it be making a different sound?"

"Magic," Thorn said, hazarding a guess, and earning himself an eye roll from Eve.

"Well, yeah, of course it's magic, Thorn. There's mana involved. But just because it's magic doesn't mean we shouldn't be able to figure it out."

"Fair point."

Testing the strength of the piece of metal with his hands, Thorn found that it was significantly stronger than any of the other attempts he had made before. Typically, the metal, when not created properly, became brittle, and he could snap it with a bit of effort. This, however, was so firm and strong that Thorn found the best he could do was bend it slightly.

"At least we're making some progress," he said. "This stuff is tough."

"How's its heat resistance?" Eve asked.

"Let's find out," Thorn replied, tossing the chunk of metal into the forge.

Almost immediately, he noticed the difference, as the chunk of metal seemed to ward away the heat, barely absorbing any. This was another of the incredible features of the immortal iron. On top of being unbelievably sturdy, it was also almost completely heat resistant, meaning it was impossible to reform it once it had been cast into shape.

"Well, it looks like the heat resistance property is there. Do you think this is good enough to use on your equipment, or do we need to figure out this last little bit?"

Thorn wasn't sure about the answer to that question. So after fishing the piece of metal out of the forge and finding it cool to the touch, he shrugged. "I'd like to give it at least one or two more tries," he said. "I'm going to spend a little bit more time in the memories, trying to get a better understanding for them. My guess is that there's something I'm missing, a piece of the process that I don't understand."

"It's a shame there are no memories of this process being taught," Eve said with a grumble. "It would have made all of this a lot easier."

"That's true, though it also would have made it easier for enemies of the Renith Empire to take their secret," Thorn said.

"Let's examine our process versus what each of the Grandmaster Blacksmiths did. I want to see where we have deviation on it," Eve replied, settling down on Thorn's shoulder as she began her review.

Still holding the small chunk of metal, Thorn let traces of his mana run through it. It was hard to explain, but he could sense the lack of resonance between the various metals in the mixture. It was as if each was singing a different tune when the mana ran through it, and he didn't understand how they had been brought in line.

A few moments later, Eve suddenly opened her eyes and let out a light laugh.

"Did you find something?" Thorn asked.

"Yes, and it's silly enough that you're going to kick yourself," Eve said. "We've been so focused on how the metals have mixed together that we didn't think about what was going on beforehand. The processing of the alloy is perfect. There was not enough of a deviation between your actions and the Grandmaster Blacksmiths to produce a failure. But what we haven't been doing is using that hammering technique to process the metals before we begin the alloy."

Immediately, Thorn could hear the sound of the first blacksmith's hammer as it rang against the metal, and understanding flooded through him.

"Of course," he said. "He brought the metal into perfect resonance before he started the alloy process. I can't believe it's that simple."

"Well, it is," Eve said. "But the problem is, you don't know that hammering method, so there's no way you can replicate it."

"Yet," Thorn replied, a wide grin on his face. "I don't know it yet."