✠AIAN KAMUY✠ "To protect life.
To destroy life. Sometimes they are the same thing." Alone, distraught, and confused; Aian was left hiding in his old home, The Mysterious Canyon. Achnolgia's reappearance had begun to twist the world into chaos. Aian knew he was no match for the dragon that would make Metallicana humble enough to request for assistance. In his own way. Aian hid out in the canyon hoping to train, having just gotten to the point of releasing his true powers that he had been hiding from everyone for so long now. Aian had eaten the lacrima of his master, and was now a third gen slayer. He had been in secret for months; mentally keeping his powers in check. Though he was confident that he had become useful to his team mates, he was now in incredible doubt of what use he could be at this time. Though he had little time to fall into his usual slump. He pummeled on the canyon's hardest rocks with all of his might; chipping away at the canyon's walls with each punch, filling up the narrow canyon with boulders. The walls were nothing to him now. Each punch drove like drills into the rock even without his magic. The more momentum he built with each punch, the further he drove himself into the rocky cliff. Aian finally stopped when he couldn't see himself anymore within the darkness. He was panting heavily out of rage, knowing this would be a useless attempt to getting stronger. Aian calmly walked out of his home, nothing able to be done to assist him here any further. Aian had to think of a way not to just boost his physical strength but his magical strength as well. Even when changed into a third gen Aian knew his magic power was still drastically low, but he had no idea how to fix it. Aian was always told by his Mentor that his Iron was always too hot. Though he didn't know what he meant by that. His mentor tried to explain he needed to cool his iron down, but still new to magic Aian couldn't figure out a way too. Each of his attempts ended in failure till his master left. If cooling his Iron down would make him that much stronger; Aian knew that he would have to find some way to do this. It was time Aian stopped running from his weakness in an attempt to overcome it with physical might. Aian ran around in the midst of the chaos with countless numbers of survivors fleeing from the apocalypse dragon; heading towards the nearest protected village or shelter.
Only a few measly days have passed, and humanity underestimates the dragon's power; thinking that heavily fortified magic shields will keep the beast at bay to give them a fighting chance. Aian happened upon one of these sheltered villages as part of the mob, though he immediately dispersed to try and find some way to get a hint to strengthen his power. Though the streets were mostly packed, everything seemed rather calm, for now. Aian knew that it would eventually be crumbled, he couldn't waste anymore time in this village. Aian made his way through the village till he heard rumors from some travelers who have been beyond Fiore. Aian listened closely as they talked about a small army getting ready to beat Acnolgia and win due to the help of a special blacksmith. Aian became curious and asked the group where this area was, but neither of them knew; being only rumor. Aian nodded, walking away to go into thought about blacksmiths in general. Men and Women who forge strong durable weapons out of Iron, Steel, Bronze, and Silver and other materials. Aian has seen some that have lasted for generations and are still operational. This process intrigued Aian, as he went to go find a blacksmith within the village. Finding the only shop closed, he fell into sadness as he came to realization that most blacksmiths were already off in the effort to create weapons for the armies fighting against the dragon. Aian sighed, taking a seat next to the abandoned store. His hope of finding a new way to become stronger just shut the door in his face due to the event going on. He knew every blacksmith in Fiore would be extraordinarily busy. Every blacksmith in Fiore. Those words kept circling in Aian's head as he began to get nervous. He knew he must travel outside of the country he lived in for so long. He had to travel to Earthland. But he had no idea where to go, or how to get there. Absentmindedly, Aian found the blacksmith's door open and walked inside. When he did, it appeared as though the blacksmith was dragged literally out of their shop. Food was chilled to the bone on the table, nothing was clean, the establishment looked abandoned. Aian walked down into the forge to find a dusty Anvil, and a worn rusted hammer. Aian lifted up the normally heavy utensil with ease, and struck the top of the anvil with slight force. A loud clang could be heard-followed by three more clangs- as Aian continued this motion trying to get the idea of a Blacksmith's work into his head. However, this caused unwanted attention from outside.
Before Aian knew it, two royal knights rushed into the forgery immediately forcing Aian against the wall and handcuffing him.
"All Blacksmiths were to report to the secured armory immediately days ago! You will answer for this crime immediately as soon as the crisis is averted!" One of the knights exclaimed, keeping Aian pinned against the wall as he fiddled with a medallion on his chest. Aian didn't have time to respond, defend himself, or even utter a single syllable before he found himself being teleported from the blacksmith's forge. As Aian's vision adjusted from the sudden wave of advanced of arcane magic to find himself in the midst of a large, heavily heated, dark room filled with the sounds of raging flames and hammers banging. Aian noticed many men and some women working on different types of alloy metals and materials making weapons for the armies. Aian could tell that any of the weapons currently being made would not even damage the opponent they were made to harm. Aian found his restraints removed as the soldiers behind him slammed the door shut leaving the room. Aian examined the work area, as the different blacksmiths all took their focus onto him. Immediately they could tell he was not one of them. Aian, whom normally would become insecure and sink back, stepped forward as he had to figure a way to resolve his dilemma. A burly-grey beard- smith approached him; blocking his way of advancing.
"How in the hell did a scrawny runt like you manage to get mistaken as one of us?" the elderly smith demanded to know, bulging out his chest in both aggravation and to make a point of the size difference between the two. Height wise Aian was slightly taller, but he was three times smaller muscle wise compared to the man in front of him. Aian took a step back, and made a proper bow towards the male smith.
"I used to live with a smith for a while when i was being schooled. I was mimicking what i remembered; for I am trying to enhance my abilities. For you see, I-"
"Abilities? What are you trying to become a blacksmith, scrawny?" A bulging female smith interrupted, stomping her way towards Aian and the other smith. "Making a sham of our hard work. Where do you get the nerve?" Aian was taken back, making him have to rethink his thoughts. However, as he went to reply an even older black smith, fading grey to white hair and beard- bald patch growing upon his scalp- and losing his muscle mass withering away, interrupted.
"Regardless, even if we could help; we can't now. Forced to make weapons under the military's control we are bound to slave until this war against that infernal beast is over. You may very well be stuck with us till the end of all our lives if this beast is not taken out." This statement destroyed the tension in the room; forcing everyone to turn to silence. Moments later, everyone began arguing over what the point of their work was, some talked about how they may never see their families again, while many argued how to escape. Aian took this time to investigate the hardened brick wall at the end of the room where he estimated the outside to be, due to vibrations he could hear coming though the wall. He placed his head against the brick; to hear the stomping of soldiers through the street and other activities going on with common folk. Aian took one step back, opened up his stance to solidify his legs, and pulled back his right hand.
"Even if we could break down the door we will only be executed; the only way through is this damn reinforced wall! And none of the weapons we make can-" a loud crash exploded through the room as everyone turned their attention towards the location of the crash to see Aian had punched the stone wall. Crack marks exploded from the impact zone. The muscular smiths all stared open jawed at the scrawny one's strength when he began to continue punching; appearing to hit harder each go. Each punch Aian delivered to the wall expanded the cracks However, he was not doing this unharmed; each punch made Aian's bones feel like they were shattering. But persistent to lend the aid to the smiths to being able to escape their makeshift prison and to earn their respect and aid drove him on. As the wall was about to tumble, Aian backed up panting heavily.
"I can take one of you with me, where it will be safe. In exchange, I want that person to lend me the aid of helping me improve my Iron magic. After that, I will strive to take down the dragon with the help of all the others. We will do our best so you all can see your families once again." Aian pulled out a shard of his iron out of his pocket; a piece that had broken off during his last training session. All but the eldest of the smiths remained silent and stared in awe. The old man examined the piece of Iron, thinking intensely on the situation.
"I am from a country well known for its hard workers. There, some of the greatest smiths are known to reside. I am sure being so far off the council hasn't gotten to them yet; so if we hurry we might be able to find one who may have the potential to help you." Aian looked at the other smiths, and the look on their faces said the same thing: That they all were Fiorian, and did not know the way. Aian turned to the old man once more, bowing respectfully towards him.
"Will you assist me?"
"If you can secure our safety, I can take you to the country." Aian nodded, and turned once again to the other smiths. He bowed once more towards them. They all nodded back in return, wishing him Godspeed. Aian turned once more to the collapsable wall; and reared back his right leg. With one heavy kick, the wall exploded onto the outside street. There, Aian helped the old smith from the rubble, and the two made their escape towards Ca-Elum.
Aian and the old man had to avoid many of the roads and most of all avoid the dragon's path as they made their way towards the ocean to sail towards the island. Acquiring a proper vessel however, proved to be impossible as the military had also commandeered the boats. Aian and the old man spent a few days wondering how to get a working ship. In the late hours of the night, Aian devised a plan. Having a natural hatred to the Magic Council, Aian simply stated that they should steal one. Of course Aian hated stealing; in a situation like this; it may prove to be their only way of getting him the help he needs and the elderly man freedom. Reluctantly, the old smith agreed onto the plan. At the stroke of three am, the duo snuck themselves on-board the smallest of the fleet. Aian had no trouble throwing all of the guards off the ship, where as the old man had no trouble unbinding the ship to the port. With a few very strong gusts of wind generated from Aian's immense lungs into the sails; they were off. The ship was already well stocked, but the two found that maintaining the ship as it sailed proved to be never-ending work: Watching the wind, keeping the sails appropriately lengthened out, staying on course, washing the deck, keeping safety lines secured, removing any unwanted material from the outside of the ship, and the chores continue to pile on as from sunrise to sunset. Without any proper magic, it took them several days to reach the island's borders. With some convincing to the border patrol, the two were escorted into the country of Ca-Elum under secured watch. Aian waved the old smith good-bye as he left towards his home; where as Aian began asking questions onto how to obtain a smith who may be able to help him. Turn after turn, he was constantly requested to see the Master Smith, however each time Aian attempted to make the proposal; he found that he would have to set up an appointment months later; as the crises was beginning to effect even them. The country was on high alert and beginning to set up defenses to the dragon's possible approach. this made getting into contact with the Master Smith nearly impossible. Aian continued to wonder the country asking smith after smith, person after person, for assistance in finding one who may be able to help him. Weeks went by before Aian came across the old smith he helped out before. Aian wondered if the old man could possibly help. The old man said he knew of one with the same skill of smiting as the Master Smith, just lacking in politics. Aian was pointed towards the base of a nearly active volcano on the island; with the information that the one who might be able to help him resided there. Thanking the old smith for the information; Aian made his way quickly towards said active volcano.
It took Aian three days to reach the volcano's base. It was almost dawn as Aian began circling the mountain looking for this supposed blacksmith. He was both excited and nervous to being so close to obtaining his goal of drastically improving his Iron's capabilities. For so long has he had in mind that his Iron was never worked on itself; but rather he had focused on his body. He had neglected an important lesson his master had taught him; as he never learned what it meant: "A rustic sword can be mightier than the most polished steel." Aian continued exploring the mountain's base desperately for any sign of humanoid life. He could hear the echoing sounds of a hammer ring throughout the area; but he could not locate the house or structure of the hammering. No matter how much of the volcano he circled, he could not locate the source of the hammering. His walking turned into sprinting. Desperation was growing. Finally, after hours of searching, he stumbled upon a small river of lava leading out towards the horizon, and a home nestled close by almost on the banks. It wasn't really a home, more of a shack with an anvil and forge on the outside. When he approached the structure however, he noticed no one currently around. He knocked on the door, no answer. He checked around the house; nothing. He looked up the volcano, nothing. He could not see any form of sentient being around. Aian sat down a distance off from the house, and waited. Minutes turned into hours, the sun had begun to set, the lava providing a natural source of light. Aian had been watching the flow of the lava for some time now; and noticed no signs of an eruption. He figured that the constant stream of lava was preventing any extreme form of build up by letting the magma and hazardous vapors release a safe distance from the house. As the sun began fading from the sky, Aian heard heavy foot steps upon gravel. Turning his head, he found a smoothly built smith; unable to register either male or female due to their face and body being so tightly covered in wrapped cloth that their features of recognizable gender detection were indistinguishable. Aian stood up, noticing that the other was pulling a wooden cart of ore with a pick in hand. Aian attempted to draw attention to the individual by bowing to them and introducing himself.
"Hello there, I was told that I could Fin-"
"Go away" The smith replied, keeping their voice as indistinguishable as their body. Aian watched as they set the cart up near the forge; and began setting up to begin another round of work.
"I am sorry for intruding; but I was told you were the only one else who could-" Aian began again, hoping to try and convince the smith to lend him aid.
"I said go away, I am busy." The smith turned him down once again, throwing Iron into the forge to begin having it smelt down. Aian was becoming discouraged, but he needed this person's help in order to make himself stronger. Noticing that the smith was trying to work, he figured they would take interest into examining his iron. He took out the shard he had held onto, and attempted once more to get the smith to listen.
"I have this...Iron...that I think you will be interested in." In a heaving sigh, the smith turned towards Aian, storming up to him and snatching the piece of Iron out of his hand. They examined the piece of Iron, their eyes appearing to lighten up of frustration and become more interested.
"Amazing quality, but horribly worn down....Where did you get this?" The smith questioned in a demanding tone. It was clear by the sharp glare in their eye they would do anything to obtain the source for the ore of that iron. Unfortunately, the answer is not what they would be looking for. Aian held out his left hand; a magic circle appearing upon his wrist and flowing out to form a large shield of dark Iron. Aian then, began ripping the metal shield off of his palm in pain; finally making it snap off and fall straight to the ground whole. The strain however, had nearly torn a chunk of flesh on his wrist and made his entire left hand turn a light shade of red. The smith was taken back slightly, examining the iron shield to find it of the same quality as the shard. They stood up once more, crossing their arms. "What do you want me to do with this?"
"I need your help into fixing my magic. My master, the Iron Dragon Metallicana, taught me how to use his iron. However, no matter how hard I work the Iron always seems to appear getting weaker...I don't know what to do; and no matter how much high grade Iron I eat I can't strengthen it. If you could please help me figure out how to refine it; I can become a lot stronger and assist into beating the apocalypse dragon." The smith went into thought, lifting up the shield and setting it down onto the anvil. They stayed silent for a while; before finally coming up with a conclusion.
"I can work with this iron and show you how to work with it. It will be up to you to figure out how to strengthen it yourself. However, you must remain absolutely silent. No talking. If you utter one word; I won't teach you anymore. You work with your hands, not your mouth." Aian agreed to the statement; and immediately the two went to work. It appeared to Aian, that sleep will only occur when the work was accomplished.
The smith started off by throwing the entire shield into the furnace; and began attempting to remove the dark grey coloration by oxidizing out the silicon and attempting to fine it into a whiter version. When they noticed the Iron was not melting, they began trying to increase the heat drastically by throwing large amounts of wood into the fire. This took several hours, and appeared to not suffice. The smith used tongs, and removed the shield from the forge. They then began walking up the slope of the volcano, dragging the iron shield in the tongs behind to a secondary slope. Aian followed, not wanting to miss out on what to do. As the two made it on top of the slope; Aian found that the river of lava below flowed out from a secondary forge upon the higher slope. The smith was already inside, and was not attempting to use the lava to melt the Iron shield. Aian wasn't sure how this would work; for if the shield did melt it would be taken down the river and not collected. However, when he noticed the shield begging to melt; the smith removed most of it from the lava, some dripping off in, and placing it in a lower chamber sealed completely in-between two sets of flowing lava rivers to make the iron melt down inside by the heat. The two waited patiently inside the hot forge, Aian was feeling inadequate at his Iron's resistance. He knew Metallicana able to have his Iron resist almost all forms of erosion, melting, and anything else that would destroy the metal. Aian however, was now beginning to realize just how weak his Iron truly was even after eating the lacrima. It took an hour, before the smith pulled the tray out from its sealed chamber to find a large amount of melted Iron with large chunks of muck floating on top. They disposed of the slag, and poured the remaining, now greatly whiter iron into another trey; and let it begin cooling down outside. The smith turned to Aian, pointing at him to make him create another object to melt down; in order to test another method. Aian confused by the gesture, thinking the smith wanted him to go into the lava himself, hesitated. The smith pointed at the melted shield, then back at him, and then to the lava once more. Aian began using his magic to create his broad sword from his right hand; and ripped it off as well. The smith took the Iron and threw it into the lava carefully to have it begin melting. When mostly melted, the smith moved it to another trey and placed it in between the two flowing rivers of lava. When completely melted, the smith took it out and mixed both of the slag and melted iron; before pouring it into another cube like trey and set it outside to cool. The smith and Aian walked down the slope, where the smith began showing Aian how to smelt and forge in the standard forge while the special iron cooled. It was then the smith began explaining what they were doing with his Iron: When they removed the slag from the first set, it was to remove the grey color and create white Iron. Where-as, the second batch would be the similar material for Cast-Iron; keeping the slag. They began explaining, that grey iron was called "Pig Iron" and was used mostly for creating Cast Iron and Ductile Iron materials; and that they were more greatly divided compared to their original form; but tough due to keeping the carbon and silicon inside. Where as, the White Iron was Strong but brittle, as it lost most of its carbon and silicon to obtain its color and was used for more decoration pieces, mostly called wrought iron. Aian began wondering what form of Iron was best for him to use in combat. The smith however, had the answer: A combination of both. As Cast Iron would be great for weapons, Wrought Iron would be good for creating defense. By a slow introduction of mixing the two; eventually he will find the appropriate mix that would form what it was he overall needed; after constant sets of refinement. Aian took this in, and continued to work in silence with the Smith. It took a whole day for his iron to cool down, before the Smith and Aian inspected it. They showed him the extreme differences between the two Iron blocks. The Cast Iron was rough and sturdy while the Wrought Iron was smooth and felt flexible. Aian both noticed that each of the blocks already felt better to him than his own current Iron in his body. He would have to find a way to improve his magic; hoping to rely on what he learns with the smith.
Aian stayed with the smith for a month and a half, constantly learning everyday on appropriate treatments to weapons, artifacts, and other items used for forgery. He learned to make various crafts including statues with Iron. The proper way to make swords, proper shield making, how his current designs were horribly flawed, he even learned how the two different types of Iron would react when put against each other and one another. He learned the different types of smelting, melting, refining, and fining methods to fix and or enhance his iron. And he learned how to appropriately cool the items using water; when to strike them on the forge, and what each tool should be used to create the finest of creations. Of course, Aian learned how long it took to perform any of these tasks in perfection; where as his were rushed for time, the smith would tell him how long he should actually take into each task: the longest time should be spent nearly lasts for years in the finest of weapon making. But because Aian didn't need to forge his weapons; it wouldn't be a major set back. With him taking ready for his leave, they threw the iron blocks into the lava to have it melt away to not be used as a sign of trust. Aian and the Smith bowed respectfully to each other, before he took his leave. It would be difficult getting back to Fiore; but he knew he would now be able to fix his Iron back within his homeland. It would take him a long time to figure out how to repair his magic: but he now knew how to begin.
It took Aian two months getting back to Fiore, a combination of patrol and sea trouble; he had to enter a nearby country and go around the long way. There, he made his way to th hottest volcano he knew about in the land. As he made his way through the destroyed terrain; it took him another month of careful travel to reach the volcano. Once there, he made his way up the mountain; and down into the mouth of the beast. He found himself a ledge to rest on; and already the heat was getting to him. But he knew this is where he would need to be to refine his magic. He started off, by meditating inside the super heated volcano; his breathing partially hindered as it was an extreme he was not yet used too. He knew he would have to get used to the environment first. It took him a whole month of simply sitting in the volcano; before he finally became adapted to the super heat. Now that he was finally used to the extreme heat, he could get down to business. Once he was set he began trying to think of how he could alternate his magic. He attempted to use the heat of the volcano, without going in, to his advantage. First, he tried to form a white iron shield. Summoning a magic circle; he began trying. Again, Again, Again, and Again, he had to peel the shield off and force him to create another immediately. He kept in his mind the idea of removing the roughness of the iron and making it that smooth yet brittle material he felt so long ago. Each attempt became better, and better; as though each forced initial cast was slowly becoming more and more focused on the solid iron he had in mind. Day after Day, he would go back into the volcano to improve his shield. Eventually, after two and a half weeks of forcing his magic; he got the end result he was looking for. A glinting white iron shield that reflected the color of the lava below. He sat down exhausted, and took the rest of the month to replenish his strength. He attempted the same thing with his Sword, but using cast iron instead. In a similar manner; it took him a month and a half to finally get the right amount of heaviness and sturdiness into his sword. In total, Aian had been training for at least five and a half months. Now, he was at the hard part. He felt comfortable enough with the separated forms; now he needed to combine them. The enduring process took a total of three and a half months of constant frustration, and pain. Aian even got furious enough to once thrust his hand still connected to the weapon into the lava. A mistake that took him the half a month to cure his burned hand. But finally, he got his end result. His armors, and weapons were now repaired: glinting smoothly with white iron and yet extraordinarily tough with the cast Iron. The Dark Grey color remained; but finally he felt relieved that his magic was now repaired. Aian had not noticed; but his magic seal had been removed from his forehead. A situation he no longer worried about at the moment. He had to use every once of magic to perform this task. Now, that he was beyond used to extreme heat; he knew he would eventually have to get used to extreme cold. But right now; he had to go and test his new magic. His newly refined, stronger iron, magic. One that he hoped, would make his master proud. "I am now one giant leap forward; my body AND magic are now in tune with each other again....Watch out Reiki, I am catching up to your speedy progress. I will not fall behind in our team." He mumbled to himself in confidence, jumping out of the volcano and racing to his guild hall to lend an assist to his team. "A whole year to repair Iron; let the time I took into caring for it pay off." TAGS:
WORDS:
number.
NOTES:
Aian's one year retreat
CREDIT:
kiwii at btn and gs!
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