The crowd talked amongst itself as they swayed gently in the midday light. The smell of spice, perfume and sweat mixed with the ever pervasive scent of the ocean hundreds of yards below. No one seemed to care that they were only a few enchanted cables away from what would be certain death for most of them. But they wouldn't care, this was normal for them, a daily commute between skylands.
Eira and Ragnar stood near the rear of the contraption. She was steady on her feet, her posture relaxed despite the gentle rocking. Ragnar, by contrast, kept his balance with visible effort. It was his first time riding an aerial gondola, one of many she had experienced across her countless iterations. She had stood in this very car before, watched this same ocean churn far below, felt this same sway beneath her boots more times than she cared to count.
Ragnar hadn't grown used to it yet, though he did an admirable job hiding his discomfort. Not that it truly mattered. A fall from this height would hurt but, it wouldn't be fatal for either of them. Still he looked more and more like their father by the day. Though his heart beat too loud for the man their father would have tried to turn him into.
The two siblings had been there for a few weeks. Adjusting to the frivolity of humans was always a culture shock. The Force Isle had always been unsettling to Eira for that reason. The land was beautiful, a blossom of natural color and a vast expanse of nature suspended above the ocean in an ecosystem unlike anything terrestrial.
The humans that inhabited the skylands didn't really seem to understand that nature was meant to be forced into compliance. Shaped and carved by those with the power to do so. They failed at this by letting nature grow untamed then coloring themselves in bright flimsy flamboyant clothing for aesthetics over practicality. She wouldn't have come back here in this lifetime if it wasn't necessary.
Humans, as a rule, possessed low magical affinity. To compensate, they relied on elaborate machinery to accomplish what magic handled with elegant efficiency in Yuhia. To Eira, machines were loud, inelegant mockeries. Desperate contrivances forged by an inferior species to imitate a fraction of wendigo arcana. She grimaced slightly as someone pressed closer, jostling her shoulder to make room.
"I don't understand why you wanted to come here," Ragnar muttered.
The gondola swayed again as more passengers settled in, forcing the siblings closer together.
"There are people and things we need from here," Eira replied evenly. "I already told you that."
Ragnar clicked his tongue. "Shouldn't you still be training with Father?" His voice carried a note of lingering disappointment. "Why would he let the precious heir out of his sight?"
Eira's eyes snapped to him. "Watch your tongue, Ragnar. You're getting dangerously close to saying something you shouldn't."
"Oh, sorry, Heir Eira," he said, rolling his eyes. "Didn't realize I'd struck a nerve."
She didn't bother to respond and instead sighed and looked away from him out the window to the vastness that was the human kingdom. They were between the largest of the skyland where the royal capital resided along with the major cities and one of the lesser territories known for special trade.
The name of the larger one was Þe Heigh Yle of þe Croune which loosely translated to The High Isle of the Crown. A pretentious name she shortened to Crown in her mind. The smaller skyland, Stormehold, an abridged name of course, is what they were traveling to and was far more important.
In nearly every life when she needed weapons she would find herself coming back here. There were simply no craftsmen in the realms like the ones she found there. It took convincing for Ulfar to let her go off on this trip. She preferred to have his permission but would have run away if he didn't grant it.
The fact of the matter was the future was changing steadily but surely. Many of the events she had come to rely on were either absent or altered to the point they were unrecognizable. The last thing she needed was for some valuable person or item to go missing before she had the chance to capitalize on them. If she was going to survive whatever the True were planning he had to act to take advantage of every opportunity she ever found in any of her lives.
She was pulled from her thoughts when the gondola suddenly and rather violently stopped. There were screams of pain as some people were thrown to the ground. The sky itself darkened and grew thick with mana to the point most of the people struggled to breathe.
Eira and Ragnar were fine, they were both mages and ambient mana would have to be much higher before they had any issues. Still it would be bad if any of the humans died while they were aboard, so Eira extended her aura to push back the wild mana.
"What was that?" Ragnar said.
"I am not sure." Eira replied. "This is why I hate this place."
"And yet you wanted to come here. Hopefully we aren't stuck here long." He said.
Something about how Ragnar talked just got under her skin. Ever since she had become the Heir she knew this life they wouldn't have the same relationship they did in most of their lives. It hurt her to know that he was always a constant, the only of her siblings she actually knew, and the only person she could trust to have her back no matter what. The world was doing its damndest to put a wedge between them and she was tired of the snide remarks.
"Ugh, fine I am here to get you a better weapon." Eira threw up her hands. "That is why I have been so secretive about it. But you just won't stop complaining. You damn ingrate."
"Wait, we are here for me?" Ragnar asked, genuinely puzzled.
"Other things too but, you are a big component to it." Eira said, her voice disappointed. "I wanted it to be a surprise but if the rest of this trip is going to be side eyes and judgemental looks, I would rather you just know now. After this you can just go back to hating me for what I did."
"W,what is that?" Ragnar said as he looked passed.
"Me trying to tell you too—"
Ragnar turned her around abruptly.
"Not you. Look!" He said.
Far off in the distance in the world below where the mountains kissed the sea, Eira saw the world break. The sky above them shattered like glass and bled like an open wound. Reality itself thinned around the edges of frozen lightning. The mountains were being split by something massive, dark and terrible against the landscape. The mana around them curdled and soured, twisting into the same malevolent corruption she had only ever encountered in the Chaos Lands.
Eira's breath caught in her throat. She had lived countless lives, seen wars, calamities, magic beyond imagining but, she had never seen this. Nothing had ever treated the laws of the world so casually. Nothing had ever made reality itself shudder simply by existing. Yet she could feel it. Dozens of miles away, and still, the fury of that entity struck her as if she were standing at its center. Her knees buckled under the weight of its presence.
Then it screamed into the minds of all that felt its power. It called out for the Son of Toxin. It did so with such vitriol it made her drop to her knees. She couldn't stand looking at that terrible thing.
"A-a True Immortal?" She said in shocked disbelief. "That is a… True?"
It took a moment for her to be able to focus enough to take in the situation. Ragnar was getting back up to his feet as well. All of the humans except three were passed out on the ground. The three that remain looked to be material users by their martial arts attire. She gave them no further thought.
Her eyes snapped back to the entity. Another flash of jagged lightning tore open the mountainside. A thunderous roar followed, and the being paused, suspended in impossible space, yet even as it moved, reality seemed to collapse inward around it. Then, with a violence that defied understanding, it turned and tore itself back into the folds of unmaking, vanishing as suddenly as it had arrived.
The lightning that broke the sky dissipated and the world moved as if nothing had happened at all. Eira wanted to fall back to her knees and just breathe. Her mind raced, heart hammering in her chest. However she was a Salstar and not even the Trues would stop her from her goal. Even if she knew. Deep-deep down in her soul that this was only the beginning.
It took hours for the gondola to start moving again. Mechanical issues apparently. Once the humans finally stopped panicking over the True Immortal and repaired their own transportation network it had been hours. Eira realized they only had a few minutes to reach the blacksmith shop.
Ragnar had been quiet since the event, and Eira didn't feel like talking anyway. She had hoped to mend their relationship, but now it seemed pointless. Acquiring the weapon was just one reason she had come to the Force Isles, and by far the easiest. Once this was done, she would send Ragnar back home and focus on the real work she had come here to do.
***
The blacksmithy was small and unassuming, tucked into the side of the skyland like a secret. Homes and businesses clung to the rock above and below, with passageways carved directly into the cliff, some spanning open air and twisting between levels like veins.
The shop smelled of iron, heated steel, and sweat. A dwarf sat behind a counter with one leg up, soft snores escaping his lips. Heat poured from a forge in the adjacent room, so intense that both Eira and Ragnar had to envelop themselves in their auras to avoid burns.
"This is the place?" Ragnar asked skeptically, glancing around.
"Huh?" The dwarf jerked upright, blinking as if roused from a long dream. "Whose there?"
He took a moment to focus, then fully sat up, revealing a stocky frame still low to the ground.
"What's this? A couple of wendigo kids?" His brows furrowed. "Infernal planes… haven't seen one of your kind in… well… two centuries at best. Name's Brokk. Welcome to the Sons of Ivaldi."
He stood, though his short stature left him barely taller than when seated.
"Hello, Brokk," Eira said, stepping forward past Ragnar. "We're here for a pickup."
"Oh? A pickup, you say?" Brokk rubbed his beard, eyes narrowing. "Don't think we've gotten anything like that."
"Yes," Eira said patiently. "We sent a letter, should have arrived a few weeks ago. You must have gotten something sent from Yuhia."
Brokk's expression shifted. "Huh, from Yuhia, right. Give me a sec, kid." He strode toward the flaming door of the forge. "Sindri! Sindri, you old goat! You got a letter from Yuhia!"
The oppressive heat seemed to drop slightly. Eira and Ragnar nosily shifted to look inside of the oppressive forge.Another dwarf appeared. Sindri, his skin blackened as if kissed by the forge, ran his hands across the glowing metal of the workbench. The heat haze and smoke rose from Sindri's skin. Runes glimmered faintly across his muscles, their glow reflecting the forge light. Heat radiated from him as if he were a living furnace.
"Hey! I am working here!" Sindri said, "I need focus to get the alloy right!"
"Ya' ain't doing shit," Brokk said with a dismissive wave, "We got customers, said they sent a letter."
"Letter? That one from the wendigo?" Sindri's voice rose, indignant. "Yeah, are they here? I need to give them a piece of my mind! Requesting a piece be made without even stepping foot in our forge and smeltery, like they're some high and mighty royalty! You want a weapon made? You drag your ass in here and—"
Sindri froze mid-sentence when he saw them. "Brokk… why are their children in the shop?"
"They're the clients," Brokk said.
"Them?" Sindri asked, incredulous. "Did you see the design they gave us?"
"How the flying dragon wings would I have seen it if your sorry ass kept the letter from me?" Brokk barked.
A letter appeared in Sindri's hand which Brokk instantly snatched the parchment with a few muttered curses.
Sindri leaned in, glaring, and the two dwarves launched immediately into a heated debate, gesturing at the letter, the forge, and each other with all the fire of masters defending their craft. Eira and Ragnar exchanged a glance; this was going to take a while.
"Are you sure this is the right place?" Ragnar said a second time.
"Yes, and I actually expected this." Eira said.
"What are you even having them make for me? I have my staff anyway." Ragnar said.
"I am going to be the Shield of Saltar. I will need my Sword to be as sharp as possible." Eira said. "I know I took the position of Heir from you. But I need you. I want you to be stronger, to be like the brother I always knew."
"That didn't answer my question… but fine." Ragnar said with a sigh. "Training with mother has actually been more fun then the lessons with father anyway."
Brokk chuckled loudly and clapped Sindri on the shoulder.
"Damn, that is interesting but it is a good thing we didn't start working on it." Brokk said.
"Why is that?" Ragnar said with an eyebrow raised.
"The person that wields this can't be just anyone." Brokk said as he walked around the counter. "The resonance of the magic through it has to be tuned." His eyes drifted up and down both of them. "Given the fact it is supposed to be tuned to a lightning mage I am assuming it's not yours, young lady."
"It is for my brother." Eira nodded.
"Normally we don't make weapons for tiny tikes like yourselves," Brokk said with a grin. "But that is a limitation for human children. Wendigo though, especially you guys are built differently and I have been around long enough to recognize warrior nobility. We'll make the weapon won't we Sindri?"
"I'll get the Thrymsteel ready." Sindri said. "But first we need to see your magic."
Sindri walked up to them and held out a metal rod. He handed it to Ragnar who took it hesitantly. He immediately lost his balance as the rod no larger than a quill hit the floor with a bang.
"Too heavy for ya?" Brokk teased.
"No, you should have warned me." Ragnar grumbled.
"Good—good. Put your back into it," Sindri said with a chuckle.
Ragnar squared himself, channeling his energy. His aura flared, and arcs of crimson electricity danced across his skin, making his hair stand on end.The bolts of power became more pronounced as he lifted the small rod. His teeth clinched. He held the rod up and Sindri took it. The dwarf's eyes flicked across the metal, noting every ripple of energy.
"Oh? Yes-yes that is very interesting lightning. I can do something good with this." Sindri nodded to himself as he walked away. "You handle everything else out here."
"What was that?" Ragnar panted.
"To get a sense of your magic he needed to imprint it into the metal. Thrymsteel is very particular in how it has to be formed or some shit. He makes the metal, I make the weapon. Check back in a few weeks."
"A few weeks?" Eira asked, frowning. "Why so long?"
"Well…" Brokk scratched his beard, ash falling in a soft cascade. "From what I heard a Divine showed up outside. It blasted corrupted mana all over the kingdom Including in our forge. Sindri there has been purifying all the raw metal stockpile. Thyrmsteel it what you wanted, right? That is going to take the longest to get right, especially if you want the weapon to be as good as the blueprint."
Eira cursed under her breath.
"Fine, yes." Eira said as she looked at her brother. "I am sure we will be able to wait that long."
As they turned to walk out of the store the heat from the forge reignited behind them.