Fanwork##1006 Words
Jewel of Artifice
Heat bellowed from kiln, wafting across the mellifluous orchestra of pressure and chemistry that held her gaze at present. Ever the genius, blessed with the power to demystify and unravel anything no matter how enthralling, now the Nullity Sorceress could see things in a new light. An
Azure light.
Glinting idly in the firelight, casually tilting shades to highlight aspects of the underlying metaphysics at play, her mage-sight was growing finer by the day. This was but the lightest exertion of the Jewel of Artifice, the presence of the mystical made apparent to common vision. Their synergy though had made it seem to chirp happily, a whisper of crackling heat reflected back and forth between unbound facets, the simple joy of discovery enough to rile its aching heart for a time.
It was so cold out in broad daylight. So many shadows, so many hands. Sometimes she would glimpse a macabre image of death in a trophy case or piece of jewelry, or catch the echo of a distant stranger trying to avoid the subject and failing.
"For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come."
She would shiver every time.
Kneeling before the forge, futuristic allows sloughed away like candle-wax within the auto-kiln before her. Its workings were yet a mystery; she could ask, but would rather observe. Learning was more fun that way, a playground for her mind filled with toys cut and molded by others. It kept her mind sharp, having to keep up with the idiosyncrasies of decades or centuries in the space of minutes.
She had once been friends with a woman whose genius was even greater than her own. Now but a memory, Jeanne had been lost to time. Beautiful, horrible time, whose might is without form and thus unassailable. Whose unceasing march goes without remark, only the false stillness of great distance squaring the psyche to acknowledge its grim harvest.
The alarm signal rung, but Gisena was already reaching into the kiln, ears attuned elsewhere. Her timing had been perfect as always, but the distraction was appreciated. The thought of these things made by less-brilliant hands, each no less beautiful for their lack of Grace or talent, was a comforting thing. The wonder that presided over material physics was not the domain of the unbounded or the blessed, but a true Universal quality. It was the blessing that unbounded itself.
Tongs were unnecessary, but she wanted to use them anyway. Best to learn the intended function before experimenting. She didn't cleave often to that logic, but it was in itself an experiment. Today she was subbing in for a friend of Aeira's family, a vocational lay-engineer whose unglamorous role was nevertheless the chance of a lifetime for a woman of Gisena's disposition. Back in the Manifest Realm, she would have walked half a continent barefoot to handle such beautifully advanced machinery as an auto-kiln.
Of course she'd traveled further than that in the time since she'd joined Lord Hunger's merry band, but she'd had a great and mighty steed at the time. That was completely different.
The metal seemed to resist cooling. Its sheer glowing mass was radiant as expected, but the cooling solution was obviously insufficient. What was she missing? Glamers of light twisted haphazardly, the metaphysical equivalent of tapping one's foot while whistling nonchalantly. She gritted her teeth slightly, more affected by the Ring's soul-piercing mysticism than she had been in a very long time.
Suddenly the admixtured and carefully-conditioned metal began to cool in open air, sublimating into a gaseous metalloid with at least eight imaginary numbers located in its chemical makeup. Quarter-surprised and half-flustered, she fell backwards slightly and inhaled the toxic fumes involuntarily. The temperature was sufficient to scorch lung and tear holes in the esophageal lining, but its devilish design made it suitable to slither up the nasal passages and enter the bloodstream as well. Death would take minutes or less.
She was in no danger, findross casually rebounding the substance's malignant qualities with no more fanfare than a light gasp of air. She caught herself before she hit the ground, gyrating into a hand-stand for no purpose other than to ensure her feet hit the ground again faster. Spinning around, she hit the room's air scrubbers with a bare fist, perfect impact jarring them to action without pressing the big labeled button attached to it. She'd repair the associated circuit later free of charge, already well-aware of how even the most complicated wiring-job worked in practice.
She looked over to the bar she was firing together, and saw it had seemingly been unaffected by its own flash-sublimation and exfiltration. Measuring it, it weighed the same and reflected so under mage-sight. The Ring raised its light in two hard cobalt flashes that seemed bright enough to blind, but in truth were only exaggerated normal glimmers. Laughter. She caught it off-guard by laughing too.
It had been only a short while ago Gisena had feared for her life, though it felt much longer. The Azure was much the opposite: ages imprisoned for manual labor, fading at a rate that astounded the mortal sorceress. Idly she wondered if time passed differently for the Ring of Time, or perhaps if it simply her lot in life to help recalcitrant outcasts get their footing. It wouldn't be the worst fate imaginable...
Grabbing a handful of cleaning tools, she got to work repairing the forge and surrounding area for round 'Not actually counting". Blue light of truth now steady and unyielding, she felt it resonate with her subconscious, a partnership undoubtedly both mischievous and short-lived, until such another time as they fell in sync again. Honest work for honest pay was not where she had expected to first align with the Lunar Ring, but it seemed to respect the logic of cold steel as much as that of dreaming's veil.
"The riddle of steel has always carried with it a mystery."
For in steel there was fairness, dream among dreams within an uncaring cosmos.
