Shadows Over Arcadia Chapter 74: 72. Rearming

Read chapter 74 of Shadows Over Arcadia by Zacheas on NovelPedia.

I am Ren Drakemore, age 9 and Shadow and I still have a ways to go before we master portal magic… https://shadowsoverarcadia.com/api/storage/objects/uploads/94d9f12d-768f-4ec3-a12d-51b487be4617 Tap tap tap. Alastor raps his quill against blank parchment. One hand covers his face as he stares at the place Shadow’s arm used to be. The workshop is oppressively hot. I’ve already shed my cloak and doublet, leaving them in a heap on an old workbench beside me, but sweat still clings to my skin. The heat and the awkward silence between us are rapidly becoming intolerable. Shadow stands before us without his usual armor and clothes. It’s a rare sight, his smooth mithril frame catching the dancing lamplight like a statue. My proudest creation, now marred by our hubris. Alastor offered to repair Shadow in his father’s workshop, but he’s been distant and short with me after the incident. From the moment we arrived, he has barely spoken, only watching Shadow with a tight focus, tapping his quill and writing nothing down. “Are you not able to fix him?” I ask at last, unable to stand the silence any longer. “Of course I can fix him,” Alastor shoots back, like the question is an insult. “You’re lucky. My father has the only furnace in the kingdom with the rune required to replicate Dragon’s flame.” He still doesn’t return my gaze. “You can forge mithril here?” I ask, startled. When he offered to repair Shadow, I assumed he meant some other metal as a temporary replacement, at least until I could have a proper mithril replacement made by the Crimson Scale Tribe. “That furnace was made by dwarven rune-smiths from Ravenmark. If you have the mithril, we can forge it.” Alastor says curtly, nodding toward the giant circular furnace at the center of the workshop. Across the room, his father opens the furnace, and the red glow flares brighter. With long metal tongs and heavy insulated mitts, Mr. Ayla draws out a crucible of molten metal, the surface shimmering like liquid fire, and carries it to a casting table. He tips it into a waiting mold. My eyes linger on the furnace, newly interested in how it functions. I understand runes, and I can scribe most basic and even intermediate ones myself. Once inscribed on an item, anyone with enough mana to power it can use it to cast the spell it represents, even if they do not know it themselves. But Mr. Ayla isn’t a mage, so how does he use the runes? “How do you power the runes?” I ask. “We install a mana crystal in that hatch there,” Alastor says, pointing to a small metal door along the top of the furnace’s domed shell, midway between the smokestack and the chamber door. “They’re rare and expensive, so we don’t forge mithril often.” I raise an eyebrow. High-capacity mana crystals are valuable, sure, but mana crystals are not rare in Arcadia. Low-grade ones, the kind used for crystal lamps, heating water, and cooking, are common. But that limitation is only a problem for someone who isn’t a mage. I could power a furnace like this myself without needing a crystal at all. A smile creeps across my face as my mind races with the possibilities of what I could do if I had one of these. The Crimson Scale kobolds have been helpful, but it would be nice not to depend on their continued kindness. I want one. Maybe I should pay Ravenmark a visit sometime. My attention drifts back to Alastor as he leans in close to study the ball joint of Shadow’s arm. He’s flipped the goggles down from his leather cap, and through them his eyes look comically huge. More slow, painful minutes pass while he pokes and prods at Shadow’s frame without ever touching quill to parchment. “So,” I start. “Just be patient!” Alastor snaps. My eye twitches. He’s clearly mad about something, and I get the distinct impression he’s stalling just to torment me, punishing me for some offense I don’t even know. I hate not knowing. I almost wish I could hand him a mask, if only to see what is really behind that glare. I sigh and turn to Shadow, focusing