Two attendants rushed to Daiden’s aid and held him from either side. They hurried him away without consent and seated him atop a wooden chair. On Zane’s command, they carried him to the side of the largest furnace inside Mutuba Smithy. The two attendants gently cut the leather armour around his wound and stripped away from what remained. Daiden clicked his tongue at the process, regretting the loss of his first armour as a Mioveroldian denizen.

In the meantime, Zane tossed several ash-coloured logs into the furnace and ignited it with a flick of his wrist. Daiden marvelled at his control of fire, and the manner with which he manoeuvred his hot aeter form. The Lord of Fire folded his arms and watched as the temperature rose to severity. He gestured for the other blacksmiths to step away but requested the attendants’ assistance with helping Daiden stay as is, within proximity of the raging fire.

“The attendants will take care of your wounds; use this as an opportunity to educate yourself on the structure of our world,” said Zane, slowly. “We all have roles to fulfil, I as a blacksmith, you as a swordsman, and them as healers.”

Daiden noticed the Lord of Fire point to his two attendants towards the end of his sentence. Zane turned his back towards the Awakened, and continued, “The injuries you’ve suffered shouldn’t take long to heal. The healers at the Capital City of Suntaria, some of them have managed to restore severed limbs even. But it’s rather important for you to acquire knowledge through the memory of experience, not words.”

Zane never once looked at Daiden through the explanation, but the latter related to it, drawing from his time within the Earthen Realm. He remembered his early days as a gymnast, the weight of his growth from practical application as opposed to theoretical knowledge.

It rung at Daiden, an echo in his head – the words of those closest to him, “Never lose it, child. It’s your greatest strength, being kinaesthetic!” He smiled bitterly, in remembrance of that time.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Lord Zane,” said Daiden, sincerely.

The Lord of Fire offered a slight nod in approval of the response. He relaxed his shoulders and walked to the furnace, closer still, “Good! Then let me show you a glimpse of the man you forged a bond with!”

Daiden winced when unfamiliar aeter seeped into the open wound on his shoulder, from the two healers by his side. He felt his flesh cauterize, and slowly, with the pain, heal – one cell at a time. The reconstruction eased to a form of discomfort, but it persisted until his Mioveroldian Page emerged without notice. He read the words with surprise.

[The Lord of Fire, Zane Morgul wishes to purchase the Chrun’s Descendants’ exoskeletons.]

[He offers 200 bloodstones for each piece. Do you wish to complete the transaction for 1,200 bloodstones?]

Daiden gulped. He didn’t fully understand the value of the exoskeletons. But that was a matter for another time. He realized a deeper meaning from the transaction, a six-month allowance on his retainer and bond with the Lord of Fire. With clenched fists, he nodded. His spatial ring shimmered for a moment, releasing the six exoskeletons without protest.

“I won’t charge you for labour,” said Zane, in consideration of Daiden’s current financial status. “But do remember that what I’m about to make is a reward. You will be unable to wear it until certain conditions are met, and I will decide those for you. Are we in agreement?”

Daiden tremored from the idea of free equipment. He noticed it from the strongest of them, the Godvildian High Lord, Aelius Bloodheart and General Magellan. They wore and carried equipment as well. Daiden nodded again, in eager anticipation of what was come.

“Good!” said Zane, with a wide smile. He addressed the entire smithy next, “Consider this my last lesson before my departure to the Capital City. Don’t lose focus.”

The Lord of Fire narrowed his eyes to slits when the temperature reached its optimal value. He returned to the Awakened, lowered, and then voiced a whisper into his ears, “Let me show you something truly worth gaping at, Daiden Lost. Something beyond anything Kir could imagine!”

Daiden offered a meek, nervous smile in response to the statement. “Ah, the Lord of Fire is a petty man…”

With a deep breath, Zane polished the metal, unhindered by the flames in front of him. The blacksmiths gathered at a distance, in fear of the heat and pressure. They wiped the sweat from their foreheads, and their eyes watered with a sting. It didn’t matter, not with the opportunity to witness the Lord of Fire at work. With the basics in place, Zane held his hammer with a firm grip, layered in an indescribable and wild aura. His aeter sparked with shades of red and orange, crackling at the sides, and with raw ferocity.

Despite childish intent, Zane hammered with the pride of a great blacksmith, a Vulcan. His blood boiled with eagerness, at the thought of inspiring the Awakened, of inspiring Daiden Lost. He used them all, the exoskeletons, without worry. And in that moment, Daiden confirmed it, even with lacking experience, the difference between Zane and Kir.

Zane poured his experience towards creating a miracle. Everyone heard it, from the blacksmiths and Daiden in the vicinity, to the famers and tailors at work. It echoed with precision, delicate yet powerful. Zane hammered again, clearer once more. He improved in real time, as the seconds passed, under the watchful eyes of the Blacksmith God, Vulcan. It continued late into the night, and some of the blacksmiths left for their homes even. They returned in the morning and stuttered at the sight of a man still at work, Daiden – healed, and only a short distance away.

With another breath, Zane doused into transcendence. His focus liberated him from the shell of a man. He pressured the anvil with a wrathful calm. Daiden could see it form then, the shape of a plate armour – patterned and black, without any visible gaps. The Lord of Fire dexterously added to it, shaping gauntlets and boots, patterned again, and with a red shimmer around the edges. He worked with the desire towards completing a set and managed it towards the evening of his third day at work.

“Great, the performance is great!” whispered Zane, feeling hunger and thirst once more. He turned over to find Daiden with a bowl in his hand; the attendants helped him eat, but the spoon remained in a tilt, loosely held and without purpose. The Lord of Fire smiled for a moment, and then focused in search for more. “Show it to me now.”

Daiden firmed his thumb to stop his spoon from slipping away entirely. He felt his Mioveroldian Page fume with information and summoned it with a flick. The words emerged in an announcement, and it clarified hidden intent. Daiden appreciated it, while Zane masked a sliver of fear. The Lord of Fire could see it as well, in part due to the bond between them.

[You have just witnessed the work of a man nearing a myth. Your experience has mildly improved your understanding of Takshaka’s past and accomplishments.]

“Young Aelius was right!”