Irwin's Journey - The Cardsmith

"Okay, kid, now let's show him what you can do," Ambraz said. "Just ignore those stupid stairs and jump to the platform he's on."

Irwin hesitated, but Brazardian remained quiet. Hoping he wasn't going to get problems, Irwin ran forward, building kinetic energy, before releasing it at the last jump. With a dull explosion, he shot forward, rapidly bridging the thirty or forty-foot gap. He managed to remain on his feet as he stood before the enormous World Anvil.

Before he could wonder what he should do, Brazardian's shape rippled, and he shrunk down to something roughly the size Ambraz was when he worked on him.

"I can tell that you brought cards," Brazardian grunted. "Place a quartz one on my back, and I'll tell you how I want you to reforge it."

Irwin quickly took out his stack, most meant for either himself or his friends and family, and riffled through it. When he reached the Quartz ones, Brazardion made a clicking sound.

"That one, the waterdrop," he said.

Irwin stared at the card, then put the rest back. He'd bought it because it reminded him of his first real portal experience and because it had a lot of potential. From a powerful utility card for fresh water to one that could be turned into a blood card to take control over weaker cards, it was useful.

"Reforge it along the third-paths lateral-" Brazardion began.

"Hum it for him," Ambraz said. "He's like Nor."

Third-paths what? Irwin thought. At the same time he tried to recall who Nor was. Most likely one of Ambraz's siblings.

There was a moment of silence, and then Brazardian began humming a simple tune.

"Put the card on his back. He'll do what I normally do if needed," Ambraz said.

Why can't I just do this with Ambraz, Irwin thought, but he didn't say anything. It was clear that Brazardian wanted to test him, and Ambraz didn't seem worried. Besides, what he was hearing wasn't that difficult yet. He put the card on Brazardian before summoning a hammer.

Without hesitation, he struck the card, staring at the simple image that appeared above it. The card showed two water drops, and its resonance was simple, but the direction Brazardian wanted it reforged in was one in which the card didn't even register as an option. Not that Irwin cared. He'd done similar things hundreds of times, if not more, with Ambraz. That being said, he felt that Brazardian was only guiding the resonance song and not actively helping him guide the card.

In other words, I've gotta do it myself, Irwin thought.

He hummed along with Brazardian, striking where he had to. A short while later, the card flared up, the borders turning a deep purple. It had taken only a little of his focus, and he wondered what the end goal would be.

"Now like this," Brazardian said, showing no sign of approval.

Irwin shrugged as he listened to Brazardian's hum. It was more complex, as was normal for amethyst cards, but not anything special. The direction would reforge it towards a more spread out form, more mist than water. He struck the card that had barely settled into its new rank. Again, Brazardian wanted him to go far off the beaten path, and this time, it was slightly more difficult.

A slightly longer period of reforging later, Irwin stepped away as the card flashed, its borders turning a crisp yellow. The card now resembled a cloud, and Irwin had a good idea where Brazardion was going with it.

I think he's making a raincloud card, he thought.

"Good, continue like this," Brazardian rumbled.

This time, there was a tiny hint of approval in his voice, but Irwin didn't care. It had been ages since he'd last really pushed himself, and based on the previous reforges, Brazardian would likely make it hard. He should probably be worried about that, but all he felt was the desire to continue.

He struck the topaz card, listened to its paths, and immediately knew his guess had been right. The next step would change the card to a cloud form while keeping some of the water. Interesting to attempt, but also along the edge of what he could do. Copying the hum, which was more complex and had a stronger melody, he focused fully on the card. Halfway through the reforging, he felt a tiny inconsistency in the hummed melody. It was barely noticeable, but if he continued as he was, the card would not become perfect but merely ninety-eight percent.

For a moment, Irwin hesitated, wondering if it was part of the test or if the massive World Anvil actually made a mistake. Then he decided it was probably another test, and he began humming louder, drowning out Brazardian's soft hum and correcting the tiny rhythm error. It took his full focus, but the simple joy of reforging the card towards a set goal was invigorating. When he finished, he smiled as the card flared up, the yellow turning into a deep, brilliant green.

"It is a hundred percent," Brazardian said.

Irwin thought he detected a tiny bit of surprise in the World Anvil's voice, but he could be mistaken.

"You are at Emerald rank then," Brazardian asked. "Can you go further?"

Irwin hesitated. He wanted to go further, but he knew if the goal was another hundred percent, he wasn't there yet. He could sometimes get it to ninety percent, but the chances were almost as large that the card would explode. Only with Ambraz's help was he certain of success and high quality, but besides the hum, Brazardian wasn't helping with the reforging process at all.

"I can probably complete it, but not at a hundred percent," he said.

Ambraz still didn't say anything, but a quick look showed he had a small, almost knowing smile on his face.

We're going to talk about you not warning me properly after this, Irwin thought.

Brazardian was quiet for a while longer before finally speaking again.

"Show me."

Then, the World Anvil began humming a far more complex tune.

Unlike the previous times, Irwin waited until he was sure he had memorized the tune, then he began humming it along, trying to find the tiny details and getting them right. Only when he was sure of the direction, did he take the first strike.

It was instantly clear that the indicated direction was on the edge of where the card could go. Its resonance rebelled even with the implication of following in the indicated direction. Normally, Ambraz would step in to help him, but there was still no indication of Brazardian doing the same.

Fine, let's see how far I can go, Irwin thought as he closed his eyes.

Focusing fully on his soulforce sense and hearing, Irwin struck the card. It rebelled slightly, but the resonance of his soulcard managed to keep it in line, and he hit it again. The card buckled, and it took all of Irwin's concentration and skills to keep it in line.

A few strikes in, the only thing he knew was the reforging. With his eyes closed, the combination of his soulforce senses and hearing created a canvas of ripples and sounds where every tiny detail seemed to matter. The card's physical shape was like a gleaming spot of light lying atop a dark mass of stability.

Time seemed to stretch out, and at some point, he didn't hear Brazardian's hum anymore. If it was really gone, or because he was too focused on the resonating card, he didn't know, but slowly, a problem became apparent. The initial hummed song was just ever so slightly off, both in rhythm and melody, and the card's path would lead it into a chaotic explosion.

Lost in the process, Irwin tried to change the hum to get the card back towards the correct path. It resisted instantly, its direction seemingly set, and the song began turning more out of tune. Another hit, and Irwin knew it was going to be lost if he didn't do something. Holding the following hit as long as he could, stretching the moment, he focused on the card's resonance, sensing the borders and trying to find how he could nudge it just a little back on the right path.

As time seemed to stop, he suddenly noticed a familiar pattern. Something about the tune's 'wrongness' and rhythm created an odd harmony that he recognized. But where had he seen it before?

The Galadin music sheets!

A single sheet popped up in his mind, and the music written on it seemed to overlap with the cracking sound he heard now. It wasn't the same, not in any regard of melody, beat, or rhythm, but the 'wrongness' in the harmony was. The next line on the sheet fixed it by playing into it, letting the song head in the wrong direction before changing and using the oddity to almost pivot the song back to where it should go.

Purely on instinct, Irwin struck the card, no longer stopping it from its desired path of destruction. Unbeknownst to him, his already loud hum turned into a wordless song as he struck again without wait, yanking the melody back in another direction. The card hesitated, jolted, stumbled, then pivoted in a rhythm Irwin didn't think he could reproduce, but while shuddering and shaking and close to shattering, it stepped back on the path he wanted it to.

Irwin continued striking, a stupidly wide smile on his face. He knew he'd done something odd, but he couldn't focus on it. Instead, he continued onward, following the guide of the Galadin music sheet and the existing patterns until he finally felt the card slide into its new reality. He knew it wasn't a high-quality card, perhaps only just eighty percent, and reforging it further would be nearly impossible. But none of that mattered as he opened his eyes and watched the card flash and its border turn into a scarlet red.

The room was quiet, and Brazardian's mouth hung open. The World Anvil's soulforce, oppressive but stable before, was fluctuating oddly, seemingly barely able to keep Brazardian's emotions in check.

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Did I fuck up? Irwin thought, his previous joy melting away.

He quickly turned to the side, only to find Ambraz with a stupidly wide grin on his anvil face.

"How…" Brazardian rumbled. "It was bound to fail! How did you…"

Irwin wasn't sure what to say as he felt World Anvil's seemingly boundless soulforce ripple out like a hurricane.

"NO! I'm locked in here while a complete world of ancient smiths is out there," Brazardian roared, disbelief and anger mixed with deep pain.

Ambraz grinned, flying around Irwin's head.

"I knew he'd react like that," he shouted above Brazardian's rumbling. "Better back up. I think he might go big."

Irwin didn't hesitate but snatched the card, turned, and jumped with a boom of kinetic energy. He landed on the platform with a stumbled slide before turning just in time to see Brazardian turn into his house-sized form. His roiling soulforce was gone, seemingly held back by pure willpower, and instead, the World Anvil was calm like a deep lake.

"So, still think those questions are important?" Ambraz said, sounding as smug as Irwin had ever heard him.

"Ambraz said there were more like you in that world," Brazardian said, ignoring Ambraz's question. "Is this true?"

"There are," Irwin said, thinking of Trimdir, Lamia, Endil and the others. "I know a few of them personally."

"What did they think of Ambraz when he was there? Did he behave?"

Irwin stared at the World Anvil stupidly, not sure what to say.

"I always behave!" Ambraz muttered angrily, but he didn't raise his voice this time.

"Will they think poorly of Ganvils because of him?" Brazardian asked.

"No," Irwin said, quickly shaking his head. "Many of the smiths there have said they would want to bond with a Ganvil if they could."

He knew he was stretching the truth slightly, as some of them had merely implied, but he also knew there would be many smiths and people not yet reforging cards who would be willing to bond. It was one of the reasons he was gathering as many cards as he could.

"See?" Ambraz said. "I've learned a lot since I was gone!"

Irwin looked at Ambraz in surprise, wondering what he had done before.

"Good, good," Brazardian rumbled, a wide grin spreading on his metallic face. "I should have known not to doubt your choice, Ambraz. No matter your other failings, you always had a great sense of potential."

"What failings?" Ambraz snapped. "I've got less than you do."

Irwin swallowed as he stared at the massive Ganvil, feeling highly uncomfortable.

"Perhaps," Brazardian said. "But I'll talk to you again after you've been responsible for the survival of our race for a thousand years."

"Sure, get back to me in a few hundred years… oh no, wait! You can't because you will be stuck on this rank four world while I'll be on a rank six one," Ambraz said.

"Not if I keep you here for disrespecting your Progenitor," Brazardian said innocently.

"As if you would do that," Ambraz said. "Don't make threats you won't uphold, you old grouch!"

"So, what are we going to do now?" Irwin asked quickly, worried Ambraz was going to antagonize the older Ganvil too much.

To his surprise, Brazardian began laughing softly.

"Don't worry, Irwin. Ambraz knows me well. I wouldn't hold him here, especially not in these times," the World Anvil said, sounding surprisingly happy. "But, to answer your question, you and Ambraz are going to have to wait here for a while. There is something I need to do that will take at least half a year and, at most, a year. With your lack of knowledge, perhaps it would be a good idea for you to join The Academy during that time. Ambraz is closing in on his fourth rank up, and you might actually be able to become a Ruby Rank smith in that time."

Irwin nodded, though the idea of staying here for a year didn't sound great at all. He wanted to bring the low-rank Ganvils and the cards he'd gained back to the others and see how they were doing. Besides, what was Brazardian going to do that required him and Ambraz to remain here?

"As long as you don't require me to learn the Lists of Lesser Known Tracks," Ambraz snorted. "I've told you before, I'll leave if you try!"

"You will find out when it is too late how useful those are," Brazardian said with a sniff. "However, fill in your bonded smith with the things you've discussed. Your chambers are safe to speak."

"Just so you know, I'll probably bring the others too," Ambraz said.

"If you can trust them, that is fine," Brazardian said.

Irwin didn't need a warning to know that was their cue to leave.

"Nice meeting you," he said awkwardly, turning around.

"And you," Brazardian said, sounding amused.

Just as they began down, a soft sigh came from behind.

"Ambraz, you did well."

Irwin looked to the side to see a massive grin on Ambraz's face.

There was no pressure as they headed down, and when they reached the chamber with the hallways, Irwin was surprised by how little time it took. Going up had felt like hours.

"Alright, let's go and get the others first," Ambraz muttered. "I don't feel like telling the same story twice."

Irwin followed his directions back down.

"What was that test about?" he asked after a while. "Do all smiths need to do that before bonding?"

"No," Ambraz said, letting out a weary sigh. "It's the fate of the Prodigies. The only truly powerful of our race are all locked here, in the same place. If we lost control of the exit portal, or worse, it would be closed, there would be nothing we could do. The Monarchs have been attempting to recreate the lost techniques of our homeworld with little success."

Irwin quietly continued down, listening to Ambraz talk. He could sense a slight annoyance in the Ganvil's voice.

"Of the previous groups of Prodigies, only half reached rank five, and of those, just a few dozen became rank six. The Monarchs have come to the conclusion that it's because of the smiths their Prodigies bond with. So the last few batches, mine included, have been told that we need to find the very best we can."

"How can they see if someone has the potential to go from six to seven?" Irwin asked curiously.

"The time they take from four to five and five to six," Ambraz said. "If you can do both in under five-hundred years you will be guaranteed to become a rank seven, which is what I'm going to reach."

"And rank eight?"

"Gynerigon is the oldest of us and was already rank seven when Brazardian was created," Ambraz muttered. "Nobody really knows, but Brazardian told me once that when he was still a rank two, the rumors were that Gynerigon did rank seven in under two hundred years."

Irwin whistled, shaking his head. "If that trend continues, you would need to reach rank seven in under a hundred years to go beyond eight."

"Yeah," Ambraz said with a snort. "As good as I am, I don't think I'll reach rank six in a hundred."

"Is Brazardian one of Gynerigon's progeny?" Irwin asked curiously.

"No, and neither is Hestolgron, the other Monarch," Ambraz said. "Both are created from the Collective Pool."

"So… If none of the Progeny ever reached rank seven, why keep trying?" Irwin asked.

"Because most of the rank sixes are, and we need those too," Ambraz said.

Irwin nodded, but he wondered what made the three Monarchs different. Seeing that they weren't at the servant's quarters yet, he hummed.

"So, what kind of smiths did the Monarchs bond with?" he asked.

"No idea," Ambraz said. "All three are either dead or gone, and even Brazardian refuses to speak about it. Nor told me that he met her once, and according to him, she was an Ignitzion with cards that made her skin look like molten metal."

An Ignitzion with metal skin, Irwin thought, wondering what that would look like.

"Who is Nor?" he asked, recalling the name had come up before.

"The eldest and only living prodigy from Brazardian's first batch," Ambraz said. "He is locked inside one of the Smith Guild's hidden worlds, rank six and probably the closest any of us ever got to rank seven. He was bound to a diamond rank smithing master who died of old age, cutting off his chances forward."

Died of old age? Irwin shook his head, confused.

"But with the right cards, shouldn't he have easily been able to become a thousand years old?"

Ambraz snorted. "Being around Gelwin has muddied your idea of normal, kid! A single body-improving diamond rank soulcard will get you to a thousand years, yes, and filling your entire soulscape would boost that to two or three thousand. However, most Smiths don't have cards like yours. They prefer cards like the two you have now and specialized hammer cards. Master smiths get close to a thousand years of age, even with that, but in the final few hundred years...? They are usually too old to really continue reforging at any useful level."

Irwin sighed, wondering what that meant for him. He knew his card was beyond Diamond, but he also knew there were more people out there who had them. He didn't believe one bit that there weren't smiths with Ammolite soulcards.

"Don't worry," Ambraz said with a grin. "You will definitely become older than that. That first card you have is a beast and should get you way past a thousand."

Irwin nodded, though the concept of getting that old seemed foreign. Besides, what did that mean for the people he loved?

"Why don't Ganvils tell their smiths to get more cards to increase longevity," he asked as he turned around a corner towards the servant's quarters. "If living longer could increase the chances of getting to rank seven?"

"Without the other cards, they might not even generate enough purified soulforce for a Ganvil to reach rank five," Ambraz said. "It's this chicken and egg situation, really. The first card influences longevity the most, but it also determines a smith's ability beyond the others. Pick one, and the smith might live to be two thousand years old but never become strong enough to turn the Ganvil into rank five. Pick the other, and they barely reach rank six before the smith becomes too old to properly reforge the things needed to generate the required purified soulforce. Well, that or they die before that."

"There should be cards to do things like Gelwin did, right?" Irwin asked, not willing to give up this fast.

"Yes, but they require absolute dedication to the one idea, leaving no room for smithing," Ambraz said. "Besides making cards out of nothing, the second big thing everyone and their progenitor have been trying to figure out for hundreds of years is how to make cards that keep you fleshies alive longer."

Irwin clasped his hands behind his back as he headed towards a massive chamber with stone tables all around. Familiar voices came echoing out of one of the hallways, the top decorated with the same symbol he'd seen that led to Ambraz's quarters.

"I think we should try and get more metallic body morphing cards before we return," he said.

"If we can find or craft them, definitely," Ambraz rumbled.

They stopped talking as Irwin walked towards a brightly lit room. As he entered, he saw that everyone was sitting on large couches. Although they appeared to be made of rock, Zender was bouncing on one, a big grin on his face.

"Captain! You have to try these. They are so soft!"

Irwin laughed at the youth's joy, then walked over to Greldo and sat down beside him. He sank down slightly into a soft, slightly warm cushion, and he enjoyed how it wrapped around his lower back when he leaned back.

"Awesome, isn't it?" Greldo said. "Now, how about you tell us what that rumbling and dangerous feeling I got was a few hours ago?"

Irwin looked at his friend in surprise, cocking his head. How could he have sensed any of that if Brazardian had blocked all sounds?

"The shadows were shaking so badly I was afraid they were going to explode," Greldo said. "I had never seen anything like it."

"Okay, but we are going to check out Ambraz's smithing quarters first," Irwin said as he reluctantly pushed himself back up.

"Do we get to see the World Anvil?" Zender asked.

"No," Irwin said as he looked around. "Where did Gla'ring go?"

"He said he had to take care of some things, and we could just stay here," Rindiri said as she got up. "Is everything alright?"

"It is," Irwin said as he looked around the servant's quarters. They were bigger than his but far less luxurious and appeared to be meant for dozens of people.

I wonder how many servants Ambraz had when he lived here and what they even did, he thought.

"Alright, let's go," he said, walking back out.

--

"So, that means we are going to be staying here until Brazardian can make a hundred little baby Ganvils?" Greldo asked, raising a bushy eyebrow.

"They aren't babies, you brat," Ambraz snorted." Ganvils are fully formed and only need a few months to a year to become more or less mature."

"Right, babies," Greldo said.

"Can we see them?" Earila asked, eyes wide as she was stroking one of her Faerit.

"No," Ambraz hissed. "Now, can we get back to the important things?"

Irwin agreed, and he leaned forward, looking at the Ganvil.

"So, either the Smiths Guild or one of the other two Monarchs knows more about what is going on," he said. "What did he mean with that?"

Ambraz flew around, seemingly agitated.

"Des told me that none of the smiths from Granvox were captured. It was as if someone knew exactly what routes to take and avoid," he said. "Or as if the people who were doing this were actively avoiding them."

"So no Ganvils were caught?" Boohm asked, sounding surprised. "That's fishy!"

"Some were," Ambraz said, landing on a table for a moment before flying up and around again. "But none that still called Granvox home."

They continued chatting for a bit until Ambraz said he needed to talk with Ganvils, whom he hadn't seen in a long time. Irwin was pretty sure that meant Hou’dor, the Ganvil they had met who was guarding the exit portal.

As Ambraz shot away, he shouted that he'd be back before it was time to eat and to not go into the city before that.

"So… what do you think? Are you going back to school?" Greldo asked, looking at Irwin.

"If it was the same as back in Malorin, no," Irwin said. "But somehow, I have the feeling a smith's academy isn't quite the same."