Authors Note: I am markedly improved, though sitting in a chair to write is still a bit difficult. I spent part of Saturday and this morning editing what I had already written, and I am going to release chapters pretty rapidly until Book 1 is complete. It would normally be 12 or more chapters, but my chapters are WAY longer than when I started so it will be more like 12,000 words in 5 or 6 chapters. :D

Should be all uploaded by Monday or Tuesday at the latest. Then I will be working on Book 2, releasing as quickly as I am able! (1 or 2 longer chapters a week hopefully).

It felt incredibly good to be home again. Mother and Father met me at the stone marker between our village and the Garrison again, but although Jaws still had a slight limp (his wounds were healing quickly), the greeting was quite a bit different. Mother was far more composed than last time, though she was still smiling fiercely as she swept me up in a hug and rained kisses down upon me. The temptation to come clean about what had happened over the last few days was far stronger than I would have expected – a childish and immature part of me just wanted to tell them everything and have mommy and daddy solve all my problems for me.

But I resisted that foolish (and dangerous) temptation, trying to hide my unease deep within my heart as I told them all the ‘safe’ parts about my first official stay at Academy. I had a lingering worry that Alder and his scheming wife would somehow connect things back to me and take revenge on my parents… but there was nothing I could do about it. The risk of taking further action against them was far greater than the risk of waiting to see what would happen… at least, for now. I owed Tetra more than I could express in words, as it was her plans and actions that allowed me this freedom to focus on expanding my powers before things got even messier.

And besides… if I had wanted revenge on Alder… well, I had just killed his three closest friends and companions. That was probably the most epic revenge I could imagine, and I shuddered as I thought about what he must be going through right now… The fact that he had earned everything that had happened did little to ease the nagging sense of guilt I felt. Foolish though it was, I couldn’t help but regret that things had turned out as they had.

Forcefully shoving those darker thoughts aside, I set my focus on the day ahead of me with an eager smile: Today Jaws was taking me to the Smithy to teach me what I needed to know in order to take the apprenticeship test!

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Returning to the forge was cathartic, and I was greeted warmly by the blacksmiths and apprentices I had spent the last few years getting to know. Carver seemed especially happy to see me, her tail swaying back and forth as she easily picked me up into a hug with her strong arms. It would only be a few more years before she was ready to take the tests required to be a proper blacksmith, and it was amazing how much she had grown since I had first met her nearly four years ago (when she had first joined our Smithy).

I noticed that the woman who had always acted strangely around me (with the red skin and curling bull horns) was absent, and I thought about her odd actions on the day that I had been first summoned to meet Lord Runax. I asked Jaws about it, and he grimaced before telling me that she had moved to another village, an uncharacteristic expression of irritation flashing across his face. He refused to tell me any more than that, but I was starting to strongly suspect that she was somehow connected to everything that had happened to me over these last few weeks.

After greeting everyone and going through the simple ritual used before anyone was allowed to work the Forge – which consisted of a simple thank you to the Fire Spirits that supposedly resided within – I was told I was ready to begin my first test. The official name of the test was the Trial of Iron, which was meant to assess if the Fire Spirits would find someone suitable to work with them.

The hammer I was given was significantly smaller than the ones I had seen the actual blacksmiths using while working the Forge, and was known as an Iron Hammer. I could lift it with two hands, but after a few tries I discovered that swinging it one handed was incredibly difficult. I was probably above average strength for a five year old, but the hammer was hard enough hold in one hand, let alone trying to swing it repeatedly at a glowing piece of metal. I doubted I would even get close to the one hundred swings required before the piece of iron cooled enough to become unworkable.

The rest of the test was fairly simple, as my Ion Shield easily protected me from the heat of the Forge as I used a pair of metal tongs to remove a glowing ingot from the fire. I was able to strike it three times, with a rests in-between each swing, before I had to admit that this was simply an impossible task for me to complete unaided. I had known going into it that it would be difficult, but I had felt a nagging desire to try the test, at least once, under my own power.

I went back into the office after everyone congratulated me for a valiant try, Jaws following me with a toothy grin on his face.

“You did well for a boy of your age, Heller.” He told me, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder.

I gave him a lopsided grin. “Thanks, dad.” I stood back out of his grip, wanting to make sure my next words were taken seriously. “But I have something I need to ask you…”

Jaws raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the door that lead back into the Forge room, waiting for me to continue.

“Well… you know I’m a Cultivator, right?” I said slowly.

Fathers face paled, his expression sagging slightly as he swallowed loudly. He had only learned my secret about two weeks ago, and I’m sure it was still hard for him to accept – I was, after all, accomplishing something both technically illegal – and seemingly impossible – in being a five year old Cultivator. He nodded, meeting my gaze evenly.

“Well…” I said, pausing again as I took a moment to collect my thoughts. “I could, uhh, I could actually use my cultivation to pass the test… probably.” I looked at him expectantly, my heart beating wildly as I prepared myself for rejection, fear, or distrust. This was, in a sense, asking him if I could cheat.

His eyebrows raised, pushing himself off of the door as he processed what I had said. He reached up and placed a hand thoughtfully on his massive chin, his gaze focused on empty air to the side of the room. I waited, unconsciously holding my breath.

He looked at me, his brows furrowed in thought, “Heller, your… cultivation…” he nearly stumbled on the word, “it has to do with being a blacksmith?” He seemed extremely puzzled, but not afraid or repulsed as I might have expected.

I was stumped by his question. Did it? Was my decision somehow affected by my father’s craft? It didn’t seem likely, but I certainly couldn’t rule it out. ‘Uhh… well, yes, actually, it does… I guess.” I could see several applications, so while it hadn’t been intentional the powers I had chosen would have an undeniable synergy with blacksmithing.

He was obviously somewhat thunderstruck, as if I had told him up was down and down was purple. I tried to guess what he was thinking, and surmised it might have been something about how our culture views cultivation: As weapon, a tool for fighting and killing – no more, no less.

After a moment he gave me another curious look, but asking a Cultivator about their secrets was entirely illegal in our culture – which is probably why he didn’t ask for clarification. Whatever the reason, I was glad he hadn’t asked any further, as trying it explain it would have been nearly impossible… and would have involved lying dozens of times, at least.

He reached up and scratched his head, his spiky maw opening and closing several times as he hesitated over what to say. “Is it safe?” He finally asked me, seeming oddly anxious and excited at the same time. I had to laugh, wondering what he had pictured happening to his beloved Forge.

“Of course, dad!” I said with a grin, “I can show you, if you like?”

He nodded, his eyes lively and opened wide, the hesitation and distrust I had been so worried about nowhere in sight.

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I realized shortly afterwards that by doing this I would be revealing my control over metal… but I decided it was worth the risk. Our Smithy was a close group, and blacksmiths were used to keeping their trade secrets hidden from the outside world. I spoke to Jaws about it, and he assured me that anything I did involving my test, or forging in general, would be bound by the same traditions as everything else that happened here. Should anyone disclose any Forge secrets, he told me fiercely, they would be dealt with as the code demanded. I thought again about the bull horned woman…

I knew I would have to practice this before trying it for real, the risk of someone getting hurt if I made a mistake while dealing with red hot metal being too large for me to ignore. I asked for one of the unused anvils to be brought out of storage, and for a piece of scrap metal to place upon it for my trial run.

All of the blacksmiths and apprentices gathered around, Jaws having briefly explained what I was planning to do. I asked them all to put on their protective goggles, just in case something went wrong, and I donned a pair myself even though they weren’t needed (due to my shield). Carver kept edging closer so that she could get a better look at what I was going to do, but my fear of accidentally injuring her eventually made me ask her to step back again.

I took the tongs and struggled to set them around the piece of scrap metal without using my powers, then carefully tied them shut and bound them to the Anvil itself so that I wouldn’t have to worry about the piece of scrap flying across the room. I then set up opposing fields on the anvil (directly under the scrap metal) and the hammer, reversing the polarity on the hammer carefully (while holding onto the handle for stability) to bring it up and down on the target.

I looked around at the people around me, none of them yet realizing that I had used my powers at all. I then put more power into the field on the hammer, causing it to raise into the air… and take me with it. CRAP!

I heard gasps from the crowd as I dangled in the air for a moment before losing my grip on the hammer, causing it to shoot up and strike the roof of the Forge room as I dropped back down to the ground. I blushed beneath my scales as I laughed at myself, looking at the crowd. “Sorry,” I said in my high pitched child voice, “just getting the hang of things.”

Nobody responded, their eyes glued on the hammer that was still stuck to the ceiling.