Irwin's Journey - The Cardsmith

They continued working until the light began filtering through the thick canopy above the lake. Irwin had managed to finish four of his cards by then, keeping them in his pocket with the others.

Except for Balarn, the others were stumbling as they headed inside the main chamber from which the scent of hot food emanated. The table had been moved into the center of the room, stools around it, and a lot of food laden atop. Yogog sat at the head, biting into a thick slab of meat while the six guards were sitting spread out and eating.

Irwin thudded down beside Greldo, who hadn't waited either and was digging into what looked like a vegetable stew. A long, thin piece of meat lay on a plate beside him, and he kept taking a bite and pulling a face.

"So, find anything useful?" Irwin asked, wondering what was wrong with the meat.

Greldo grabbed his mug and drank deeply before responding.

"There's a mercenary guild here that puts out bounties for specific cards and even has missions to help clear out beast-nests and demon towers."

Irwin nodded as he piled up some food on top of his plate. Balarn had told him about those things, and he wasn't surprised that Greldo was interested.

"And you? Did you find me a good fire resistance card of some sort? This heat is stifling, and I want a good rest."

Irwin shook his head, swallowing a bite of surprisingly flavorful stew.

"No. I checked all of them, but there are no body enhancement cards at all, and Ambraz said none of those we saw were upgradeable to get it either."

"Hah," Yogog barked, spitting some food across the table. "Don't even bother! The cards we get for free are all regular, common ones. If you want anything special, body improvement, rare resistance types, good weapon cards, or anything else that's actually useful for anyone with long-term planning, you will have to buy them. And trust me, even the quartz cards aren't cheap."

"Fantastic," Greldo snorted. "Well, you better hurry up with those cards so you can get me one then," he muttered, giving Irwin a sad smile.

"No worries," Irwin said, giving his friend a self-assured look.

With as much time as he had now, there was not a part of him doubting that he'd be able to get the cards they needed.

Even if he had to reforge them all the way from Quartz.

"Just hang in there for a month or so. I did four of my first batch, and I should be able to finish this one by tomorrow-"

He fell quiet as Yogog began spitting and coughing, seeming to have choked on his food. At the same time, all muted conversations ground to a halt as the others gaped at him.

"What?" Irwin asked as he looked at Balarn.

"You finished four cards… all above seventy percent?" the smith asked. "How many did you fail?

Irwin frowned, confused at how odd everyone was reacting. They were just quartz cards, weren't they?

"Fail? None. I reforged two almost to ninety and the other two slightly over," he said.

"Show me," Yogog shouted as he shoved his stool back and stuck out his hand. He had half-finished food in his mouth, which he had sprayed over the table.

Wondering what the hell was going on, Irwin quickly handed his four finished, purple-bordered cards and watched in slight amazement as Yogog snatched them away and ran out of the room. A few moments later, there was a loud whoop, loud footsteps, and then the heavy smith ran back in.

"He's bloody right! Eighty-eight, eighty-nine, and two over ninety," he said as he ran to the wall and began inspecting the notes. It took him only moments to find what he was looking for, snatched a paper away, and headed back to the table. He began reading it, checking the cards, and finally put one of the four cards atop the paper, his eyes gleaming.

"I don't understand?" Irwin said as he looked around.

Monique was sighing and shaking her head while the others just stared at him oddly. Even the guards, with the exception of Greldo, were looking at him as if he'd grown a third eye.

Balarn took the card and paper from Yogog, looked it over, then turned to Irwin.

"What is your success rate of reforging quartz to ninety percent or higher?" he asked.

"Probably one in two or three," Irwin said. By now, he knew that whatever he thought was normal wasn't, or at least not compared to the others sitting here. Which is why he didn't say that he could probably guarantee four in five if he really took the time and effort.

"Not even with everyone? Bah!" Ambraz shouted from his pocket. "You need more practice!"

Irwin grimaced while he heard choking gasps from around the table.

"Irwin?" Balarn asked. "Do you know how high the success rate of Topaz Smiths usually is when reforging Quartz cards?"

Success? Shouldn't they always succeed? he thought, suddenly dumbfounded. He could believe that the others couldn't reach over ninety percent with as much likelihood as him. But failing a Quartz reforge? He couldn't recall failing a quartz card since becoming a topaz smith. He barely failed Amethyst cards, though getting them to eighty or higher was much harder.

"Except for you, I probably have the highest success rate," Balarn said with a sad smile. "And I fail one out of every four quartz cards. To get an eighty percent success, one takes me five attempts, and ninety percent is one in ten during my best days."

"You improved again," Yogog said as his eyebrows raised. Then he seemed to recall something and glared at Irwin. "Bah, it has to be that anvil of yours!"

"No, it's your incompetence," Ambraz snapped from inside Irwin's pocket. "Do you seriously think I help him with quartz reforging? If he can't even do this much, why would I even have chosen him as my smith?"

Yogog's eyes widened, red blood veins popping up as he glared at Irwin's pocket.

"Incompetence?" he growled.

"Yes! This is no more than normal in the main charters on the root branch worlds! Bah- wannabe apprentices there need to reforge five one hundred percent Amethyst cards to even be considered for an apprenticeship!"

Yogog's eyes bulged out as he fell back on his stool. There was a stunned silence around the room before Balarn let out a soft laugh, his eyes glittering.

"Well, this changes things. Irwin, you are going to be responsible for reforging all of the quartz cards, while the rest of us will do all of the metal refining-"

"What?" Monyque and Yogog exclaimed at nearly the same time.

"I don't plan on being here just to refine metal," Yogog snapped. "If that's the case, then I-"

He fell quiet as Balarn looked at him with gleaming eyes. "Who said anything about only refining metal?" he said.

"After Irwin blazes through those quartz cards, we will be left with the remaining resources as starting capital. Then we can all begin picking up quartz quests, picking only those that will either bring in a lot of soulshards or help us grow our skills!"

By now, Balarn was speaking loudly, his eyes glittering.

Irwin swallowed as he saw the gleam. Somehow, he'd never noticed what type of person Balarn was up till now.

Yogog began laughing softly while the other smiths looked at each other helplessly.

"Come, come! Eat! Tonight we feast, and after that, we are going to crush the first set of missions," Yogog roared.

Irwin grimaced, looking at Greldo and noticing a look of resignation in the other's eyes. He knew his friend was probably thinking the same thing. Who, exactly, would be crushing those missions?

The rest of the evening went by in a blur.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

When the next evening came, Irwin woke to the loud booms of someone hammering on an anvil. He arrived at the smithing area to find Yogog and Balarn busy. Beside them lay a massive amount of metal bars, more even than had been there the day before.

As he stood there for a moment, Irwin wondered if he should say something. After a while, he decided to just let them be and instead moved to the table. A mission paper and a stack of cards lay there, and as he picked it up, he realized it was the one he was supposed to do.

"Fine, let's see how many I can finish today," he muttered as he grabbed the first card.

Ambraz hummed as he blurred forward before changing to his regular smithing shape.

"That's wrong! You shouldn't rush," he said as he hummed again. "I wasn't lying yesterday. It's best to aim for as many Quartz reforges at one hundred percent in a row as you can. Now that you have the time, you need to solidify your foundation! Don't even think of reforging another Amethyst card until you can do ten in a row!"

Irwin swallowed at that, then nodded as he put the card down. It depicted a form of land-working tool. After a few moments of trying to calm himself, he took a deep breath and summoned his hammer.

Alright, I'll try and get at least two at one hundred percent then, he decided.

At the end of the day, he had managed one single one hundred percent, but he had finished seven more cards, all but one at ninety percent. Ambraz had snorted that he really needed more practice, while Balarn had just smiled wryly.

Quietly time passed by, and before long, a week had come and gone. Irwin and the others had slowly started becoming accustomed to sleeping during the day and working during the night. The other smiths, with the exception of Yogog, had finished two of the metal purification missions. Yogog vanished after three days, taking both Ignalia and Hotzli with him. When asked, Balarn had just stated that he was working on a mission for Tensor.

With intense focus, Irwin struck down the card, causing the card to resonate deeply. A beautiful chime came, and he raised his hands, hammering in the air in victory.

"Finally," he shouted.

Monyque, who was working near the forge, sweat dripping from their head and dark smudges on her face, looked up.

"Three in a row?" she asked, her eyes shining brightly.

"Yes! I can't believe it took me a week and four mission cards to finally manage it," Irwin replied as he watched the border of the card gleam and turned from a pale gray-white to a deep purple.

"Yes… really incredible," Nimdal said from the other side. "You should really practice more."

Irwin snorted, then grinned back at the brown-eyed smith. His short beard, the Topaz plate almost on his chin, made him look like his chin was twice as wide as it should be. Combined with the deadpan face, Irwin snorted again, then laughed.

From the other side of the forge, Monyque let out an uncharacteristic giggle. Irwin bit the inside of his cheeks as he took a quick look at her, noticing that her face was bright red as she grabbed her hammer and began striking the metal again. Apparently, she didn't even care that it had cooled too much. Had it been a week ago, someone might have said something about it, but by now, they all knew to ignore it.

"Yes, yes, alright," Ambraz said, sounding annoyed. "Stop feeling so good about yourself. Ten, remember? You aren't even halfway there. If you manage another one right now, I might be slightly impressed!"

Irwin couldn't help licking his lips before turning to the table and grabbing a water bag. As he drank a bit, he stared at the stack, knowing full well how small the chances were of him doing another one.

Oh well. I need to continue anyway, he thought as he picked up another card.

He only got a ninety percent one, but by the evening, he'd done another three cards and was back to a streak of two.

Two days later, he managed another streak of three one-hundred percent cards. That morning, as they were eating, a dull thud came from outside, followed by some cursing. Everyone looked up to see Yogog and the Ignitzion women walking in. Yogog had a long gouge on his cheek and was walking oddly, almost stumbling. The side of Hotzli's face was covered in scratches, while Ignalia was cradling an arm that was covered in nasty green and yellow bruises.

"What happened?" Irwin asked as he rose.

"Are you alright?" Monique asked as she walked around the table towards Ignalia.

"Yeah, we are fine," Yogog snapped as he sank down on a stool with far more care than normal.

Irwin hesitated, then sat down, and everyone quietly watched Yogog. Balarn was looking at the burly onyx-skinned smith, slowly shaking his head.

"I told you to only do one…" he said.

"Yes, and you were right. Okay?" Yogog snapped back, gingerly reaching for a bowl. He flinched when his arm stretched all the way, and Balarn rose to hand him a filled bowl.

"Tell me what happened."

Balarn nodded, with a look of gratitude mixed with annoyance.

"What you warned us about. We took that second mission to clear out those Sivpincers, which looked like a three-person job. The intel was wrong. There weren't just two of those silver-scaled buggers, but four. We were almost instantly cut off from the entrance," Balarn said as he took a careful bite. "If it wasn't for our instant reaction, we would have been killed, and we wouldn't have been the first."

Irwin saw the twitches in Balarn's face, and for a moment, he thought the lead smith was going to shout at Yogog. Then he deflated and gazed at Yogog.

"Don't take two missions again, and only take those in larger groups," he said, though his words sounded more like an order.

Yogog's face darkened, but he just focused on his food, and after a few moments, conversations slowly returned as everyone began asking the two Ignitzions about what had happened.

Irwin listened quietly, sometimes taking a quick look at Greldo. He knew his friend had been wandering about the last few weeks, gathering information with the goal of going on mercenary missions. The problem was, he still only had three cards and hadn't become a full-hand yet.

I'll talk with him after dinner, he decided. He had some ideas, but for them, he needed Greldo to wait a few more weeks.

After they had finished eating, and the temperature was steadily increasing with the rising of the sun, Irwin beckoned Greldo. Outside, his friend frowned.

"I know you think I shouldn't go on missions yet, but-" Greldo began.

"Two weeks," Irwin said, quickly interrupting him. "In two weeks, I'll have finished the last of these missions, and we can begin choosing other missions. That will give me a chance to look around the different cards the various cardhouses have."

"Do you have any idea how hot it is?" Greldo muttered. "If I do a few of those missions, I can buy a Quartz fire resistance card."

"Yes, but before you can slot it, you need to become a fullhand," Irwin said. "Focus on that for now, and I'll get you a good fourth card." Perhaps one that grants some patience, he thought.

It took him a few more moments, but eventually, he convinced Greldo. After some small talk, he headed to his room and lay down on his bed, enjoying the cozy, lazy warmth. To him, sleeping during the day had become a blessing- the warmth no more than something that made him drowsy.

"Ambraz, we need to talk," he said as he lay with his hands behind his head.

The Anvil had been sitting on the windowsill, staring outside, but now flitted up and towards him.

"What? You have some questions about forging again?" he asked.

"No. There are things you haven't told me. Now that we are here, don't you think it's about time you shared?" Irwin asked.

Ambraz didn't respond, but Irwin saw his lips pursed into a thin line.

"Does it have something to do with you being captured by Gelwin?" Irwin asked. He'd tried to come up with things that could be going on, but with all he'd learned over the last few months, he had ruled out that Ambraz was just trying to con him. No. There was something else going on. Something Ambraz wasn't talking about, and the only thing he could think of was the odd training world he'd found him in.

"That bloody beardyface," Ambraz growled before flitting around the room twice. He finally landed on the table, gazing at Irwin.

"Fine. I guess there's no harm in it now," Ambraz said. "I wasn't just out, loitering about when I got captured by that stupid beardyface. I was together with a large group of others, searching for a portal to…" Ambraz hesitated.

Irwin waited calmly, curious, but knowing that pushing the Anvil might lead to it falling quiet altogether.

Ambraz let out a deep sigh, his voice suddenly sounding far older than it had before. It actually reminded Irwin of what it had sounded like when he had first found the Anvil.

"Granvox isn't our real homeworld," Ambraz said. "Our world of origin was called Dréimire, and like your world, our world was shattered long ago. Granvox is no more than a planet we gained by helping the smith guild for hundreds of years."

Dr…eimire? Irwin tried, unable to even mentally recreate the odd sound Ambraz had just made. He looked at the Anvil, detecting the pain in the other's voice.

"So that's why you didn't like being called Granvoxian Anvil…"

"Bah. Foolish flashbacks," Ambraz grunted. "If you have to call us something besides Anvil of the Gods, call us Ganvils."

Irwin flinched at the anger in Ambraz's voice and quickly changed the subject.

"So, you are looking for a portal to the fragments of your world? But after so long… shouldn't they be gone by now?"

Ambraz snorted. "Definitely not. When our world was overrun, portals running rampant, three of our elders grew incredibly powerful. Sadly, they weren't able to stop the shattering, but just before it happened, they turned into worldanvils. Each moved to a different area of our ancestral world, stabilizing it and stopping it from being absorbed by the chaos beyond."

Irwin's eyes widened as he sat upright. "Could you become a worldanvil and stabilize my world?"

Ambraz's mouth fell open, then he began roaring with laughter. "Sure, sure, kid! If you give me another few hundred years, and you become a Legendary Amolite smith, then maybe!"

Amolite? Irwin thought, wondering what those were supposed to be. Still, he sighed and lay back down.

"So, why are you here if parts of your world are stable?"

"Weren't you paying attention?" Ambraz snapped. "If we had stayed, we would have turned into Addled. Have you got any idea what a crazed elder anvil looks like? You saw my real size, and I'm nowhere near fully grown!"

Irwin blinked as he recalled the first time he'd seen Ambraz. The Anvil had been enormous, towering over him. That wasn't the maximum size? If something like that falls on someone, they will be dead!

"Anyway, I was sent out as a scout with some of the others to investigate your farming world. We had heard rumors of a possible portal to a shardworld of Dréimire, but…"

Irwin felt a burst of sympathy for Ambraz as he heard the barely contained longing in the other's voice. He couldn't yet imagine what it must be like to have permanently lost his homeworld, though he feared he might in the near future.

"You never found one?" he asked.

"No. Either the rumor was false, or whatever portal there was closed, shattering the shard with it."

Irwin frowned. Something about that didn't make sense, but it took him a few moments to figure out what.

"Wouldn't that mean they would have had to kill the world anvil?" he asked in disbelief as he imagined simple hand-carded trying to kill what imagined had to have been a soulcarded massive anvil.

Ambraz was quiet, then snorted. "Right. Now that you put it like that, it was probably just a lie then."

Irwin didn't respond, staring at the ceiling as he wondered if it was possible that there was some truth to it. Could there be a portal to a world with a world-anvil on his homeworld?

"If… if there is a portal there," he said slowly. "Could we bring the worldanvil to my world… could it stabilize the world?"

Ambraz let out a weary sight, then fitted to the table beside the bed.

"In the very unlikely chance that there is one… maybe. But- Kid… your world? It's already a miracle that it hasn't shattered yet. There is a large chance that when we return, it is gone, even with the time dilation here."

"Yeah… I know," Irwin said as he continued to stare at the ceiling.

I know… but I have to hope for the best.