Prologue
“Where did you get this?”
The harsh question caused Arik to
straighten his back. “It has been in my family for generations,” he said
defensively.
The questioner grunted dubiously,
but said nothing further for several moments. He stared into the leather pouch
as if it simultaneously contained the greatest treasure in the world and the
thing he feared most.
Arik studied the giant form before
him—a man doubled over from habitual stooping. Arik wondered if that was from
his work at the forge or from the years of suffering that had clearly broken
the man.
“Has it ever been touched?” the
former Forger asked next.
Arik’s shoulder jerked guiltily,
but it went unseen by the giant man staring into the pouch. “No,” Arik lied.
Arik’s grandfather had given him
the leather pouch when Arik had come of age. It was a family heirloom—their
greatest pride. Arik had not believed that it was truly the eye of a chimera.
After all, the creatures had been extinct since his father was a child.
His grandfather had warned him
never to touch it, and so Arik had first dumped the lump of metal-looking
material on his bed. It looked so ordinary. So… disappointing.
But then, he had reached out to run
his fingers over the smooth surface.
Arik shuddered involuntarily at the
memory.
It had been like an explosion of
fireworks in his mind, full of vivid colors and strong emotions. The rush of
adrenaline was unlike anything Arik had ever experienced before.
Over the next few years, Arik spent
most of his private time holding the chimera eye. He reveled in the flow of raw
magic that emanated from the stone. He obsessed over the possibility of
harnessing that power. He studied every known text concerning the forging of
magical items, searching endlessly for the elusive Forgers.
Finally, his searching had paid
off.
“What do you want from me?” the
former Forger asked, tearing his gaze away from the contents of the pouch.
“I want you to turn that into a weapon,”
Arik answered promptly.
The large man’s expression
darkened. “I am no longer a Forger, boy. You should have been told that by
whoever gave you my name.”
Arik wrestled down the desperation
in his voice. “But surely you still know how it is done,” he said quietly.
The former Forger’s brow contracted
sharply. “Yes,” he whispered, “I remember.”
Arik switched to a soothing tone,
as if speaking to a wild animal. “It would be such a waste to let this
beautiful material remain as it is. It was meant to be something more.”
The giant man nodded slowly. “He
has been waiting…”
Arik wasn’t sure what the Forger
meant, but he could sense that he was close to getting what he had wanted for
so long.
“I should not,” the man murmured to
himself, “but it truly would be such a waste of the sacrifice that was made.”
Arik held his breath, waiting for
the Forger to convince himself it was the right thing to do. Arik knew it was
only a matter of time. All of his research had shown that the Forgers had
strict beliefs regarding magical materials.
“I will do it,” the large man said
finally. “But I do not do it for you. I do it for him,” he nodded to the pouch.
Arik’s rush of elation was so
powerful that he could hardly contain himself. It didn’t matter to him what the
Forger’s motivations were. All that mattered was that he would finally have a
weapon of power. He would be able to wield the magic that had been at his
fingertips for so long.
And then, nothing would stop him…
“Will you give it a name, like all
those other famous magical weapons?” Arik asked excitedly.
“He already has a name,” the former
Forger said softly. “His name is Savion.”
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