Irwin's Journey - The Cardsmith

Irwin slowly lowered his hammer, staring at the Emerald card that rested on Ambraz's back. Unlike the reforging he'd done over the last few months, he'd let the card be more the deciding factor on what to make, and he'd thoroughly enjoyed the process.

"It has potential," Ambraz said. "Right now, it can allow the wielder to control up to a hundred leaves to harden and move around like tiny daggers, but if we go one step further, it should become almost tenfold that."

Irwin looked at the card, which was the best of the three he'd done. Going over the song it had, the part of him that had been playing the soulstrum guitar summoned his Tablatures book and examined the music sheet that had filled with the card's resonance song.

"Or we change the leaf type to something that is stronger and less prone to being burned," he said.

"Right, we could do that," Ambraz said before humming thoughtfully. "If we do that, we could go one step further."

"Which is?" Irwin cocked his head, curious what Ambraz had in mind.

"We could try and force it slightly and try to give it another type," Ambraz said. "If we change its makeup to be like those Volcano Tree leaves, we could add either your Firesteel type or just plain Fire on it."

Irwin felt a wave of excitement at that. He knew types were hard to add, and if one forced a card too far to make it, they would likely become locked in place and unable to be reforged anymore. However, if they did what Ambraz suggested, there might be enough overlap.

"Great idea, let's try!" he said.

"Alright, kid, what song would you suggest?"

Irwin stared at the music sheet, thinking for a bit before he began humming the song on it. It was slightly chaotic and clear and reminded him of rustling leaves on a clear spring morning. As the mental image became clearer, part of him realized the mental image was something that had started during the hundreds of forced reforgings to power the ship's barrier. He had always gotten images when he played, but never as strong as this.

On a whim, he focused on the mental image, making it clearer and clearer until it felt like he was standing in a soft drizzle, the leaves rustling around while a cool breeze played around him. None of it was real, he knew that, but as he began playing his soulstrum guitar, he began slightly forcing the song, changing the feeling he got from it.

First, he added warm and husky undertones, then he began slowing the song down, and as he played, the mental image began changing. Soon, it was as if summer was closing in, a mental image of heat hazes, a softer, more compact rustling. Sensing it was time to start, he began adding more and more, barely feeling his fingers flick across the strings or his voice adding a wordless song. The leaves, which he'd imagined were a pale, fresh green at first, began curling in the imaginary heat. As a dangerous, volatile undertone came to the song, he instinctively knew he needed something more, another sound. He was missing something…

Hammer!

Irwin began tapping the hammer against Ambraz's side, soft at first but quickly gaining in power as he added an option, a song that was familiar to him- one his soulforce surged for as it came to be as it was part of it. A beat that was similar to his old Coperrion Body's resonance but stronger.

Firesteel leaves, Irwin thought, as he changed the song into one of hope, picturing the leaves that still clung to the dry branches to change. Slowly, their blackened green color turned ruddy, then orange and yellow, to end up golden.

Finishing up, Irwin sighed as the song came to a joyful crescendo. It left him feeling happy and content, and he couldn't wait to try it.

"Something like that?"

Ambraz didn't respond right away; then, he let out a snort.

"Yeah, something like that," he muttered. "Alright, let's do this!"

Irwin grinned, guessing Ambraz liked it as much as him. He raised his hammer, then brought it down, causing the card's resonance to burst out, signaling the start.

---

Zegritar kept his awareness of his surroundings. He was aware of the smaller predators that roamed the underbushes, but they were not stupid. They could sense his presence and kept away out of fear. Still, it paid to be vigilant, so he kept an eye out while he listened to the beautiful song coming from the tower.

It was the second time he was listening to the song, the Smith having practiced it before.

It is so different from Trimdir, he thought.

He felt the swirling mist that was this world's super dense soulforce surge and ripple as it moved with the song of the weird instrument. A lot of it was being drawn inward, more than he had seen in one place before arriving in this new world.

As he basked in the beautiful yet alien music, Zegritar wondered when the others would finally dare step foot here. With Jort traveling the Living Woods, they should finally see what he'd been telling them- that this Eluathar, as Trimdir and his people called it, was worth exploring. Not in the least because it held new and fresh experiences, things that even he hadn't seen in his over a thousand years alive.

The juvenile interest in exploring and setting out grew again, and Zegritar let it for a bit before pushing it down. As much as he wanted to explore that Portal Gallery himself, he wasn't a brash youth anymore. He needed information, and that meant waiting.

As the alien song came to a close, his thoughts faded. There was an intense tug on the surrounding soulforce, and he watched in stunned awe as a cyclone seemed to appear in front of him. All of it was being pulled into something in the building, the card, he assumed.

He is definitely better than Trimdir is, or at least further along, Zegritar thought, wondering what he'd do with the card being made currently.

Those he had now belonged to the Council of Roots, a smaller council of the Living Woods that surrounded the portal on their world, but he still had three of his own. Two belonged to some of his now-dead offspring, while the last one was all that remained of his own mother. He had been wondering if he should hand them to Trimdir, and now he was happy he had waited.

As the swirling whirlpool of soulforce slowed, then stopped, he knew what he would do. He'd give one of his own cards to Irwin and ask him to reforge it. If it came out worse than this one, he'd give his to the Council of Roots while keeping the one now made. As much as he despised the deception involved, Lashara had yet to slot a card, and if she took this as her first, it would allow her to remain away from the living forests for far longer. He knew it was selfish, but he still felt the loss of each of his previous riders like a burning spike in his mind. If he could empower her to remain with him for longer, he would.

He heard the smith wrap up and focused on the door. Would he come out now or reforge more? Trimdir had always stopped after two or three, needing more energy, but Irwin seemed to possess far more energy. He had already reforged three cards across multiple steps. Who knew how long he would continue?

--

"You are closing in on attempting a diamond reforge," Ambraz said softly.

Irwin looked up from the card which he'd been admiring, feeling stunned.

"What? But-"

"Kid, I'm not saying you will succeed," Ambraz said angrily before seemingly deflating with a weary sigh. "To take the step from ruby to diamond requires a lot of practice. Even the most gifted smiths will need years, but Brazardian told me it would be best to attempt it as early as possible."

"To get a sense of it?" Irwin asked, flipping the card over and over in his hands. He almost felt reluctant to hand it back, but he knew he'd have to. Trimdir had been clear about what the cards meant for the Leafarit.

"Yes. Now, let's do one more unless you are too tired?"

Irwin grinned as he pocketed the now ruby-bordered card, picking out another one of those Zegritar had given him. He could do the others tomorrow and then focus back on his own. Perhaps do Trimdir's heartcard?

As he started forging, he lost track of time, enjoying the work and reveling in the songs.

--

Trimdir stood beside the massive bird, watching Irwin walk back to the smithy. The younger smith looked only slightly tired after reforging four cards, two of which had ended up at ruby-rank.

"You were right."

"I usually am," Trimdir said, glancing at Zegritar.

He knew the ancient bird preferred it if he just spoke his mind, which was good as that was what he'd rather do.

"Smith Irwin has said he will finish the other cards by tomorrow. After he does I will return to Pinea for a while, to show them the benefit of coming here. If I leave two of my personal cards with you, can you ask him to reforge them if he has the time?"

Trimdir snorted, feeling a slight stab at the fact that the bird asked specifically for Irwin to do it. Not that he disagreed. Picturing the slight, skinny youth that had arrived at his forge all those years ago, he found it hard to align that image with the towering metallic giant that could reforge cards at a rate outstripping all other cardsmiths on the world.

"I'll ask him," he said.

"Good… A question. Do you know who he plans to bind to my leafling?"

Trimdir thought about it for a bit, then shrugged. "Either Zender or Earila, I presume. Those are the Yuurindi that are part of his crew."

"The purple-haired ones with the broken body-souls?"

"Yeah, those," Trimdir said, wondering if Zegritar regretted offering one of his children.

"Alright, tell Smith Irwin that I will ask some friends for leaflings that are ready to bind, "Zegritar said. "They might request some card reforgings in exchange, but I feel he will not mind."

"I doubt he will," Trimdir agreed, slightly surprised.

Zegritar had not been easy to work with at the start, and it had taken him reforging dozens of cards for the massive bird to mellow out. It surprised him how much faster Irwin had managed.

The benefit of being good, Trimdir thought.

He felt the dim, burning desire to improve burst forward again, and he looked at Zegritar.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"If that's all, I'll be heading back," he said, wanting to return to reforging with Hou'dor. After a full day of teleporting around to get the cardsmiths ready to come here, he felt almost angry for having done no cardforging yet.

"Yes. Tell Smith Irwin I'll be waiting at the Ranger Tower," Zegritar said.

The massive bird jumped into the air, and the flapping of his wings deafened any response Trimdir could have given.

"Sure, I will," Trimdir grumbled as he turned and walked towards New Malorin.

--

Another two days passed, with Zegritar leaving and Greldo returning with one of the caravans. Zender, Earila, and Boohm had come with him, as had Hind, Esther, Selene, Mountain, and Dahlia.

Bronwyn had gotten them some new homes in an adjacent square that bordered the new square in front of the rapidly progressing Smithing Academy.

Now, late in the evening, they were eating at Survivor's Bite, one of the few restaurants in New Malorin.

"Ib just wouldn't stop whining," Zender said, stuffing some more jam-covered nutcake in his mouth. "She said we should have gone with Mom, even though she knows we couldn't!"

"She was just worried," Earila said, prodding her brother with a finger. "That, and she was upset that you are bigger and stronger than her now."

Zender laughed bitterly. "It's not like she has to. She will get a heartcard soon and probably outgrow me within a year."

Earila's face soured, and she took another handful of nuts and bit down on them angrily.

Irwin didn't correct them, as he had yet to tell both of them about the potential bonds they might be making with leaflings. Until he was sure those bonds would allow them to hold a heartcard, he didn't want to get their hopes up.

"As soon the Academy is done, I'll go and bring the Viridian smiths here," Greldo said.

Irwin turned to his friend. "And the two human instructors?"

"They aren't exactly bad people," Greldo said, leaning back and lowering his voice. "But they seem to think they are better than the others. I had a chat with Daubutim about them, and he said to bring them to Treanba. He'd have some people keep an eye on them."

Esther, who had been sitting in front of Greldo and was the only one who wasn't either focused on eating or talking, leaned forward.

"Smiths that are stuck at a certain point like those two, usually set out to small distant worlds so they use their skill to get a high social position," she said. "Neither of them will even reach topaz rank in their lifetime. I think it would be best if you kept them far from the Academy. I have watched some of the prospects Trimdir brought, and even the least of them has potential beyond average."

Irwin wondered for a moment how that would feel, having decided on a course in life only to find you were not good enough. He shivered at the idea and wondered what he would have done had he found out he couldn't forge as he could.

I could have become a ranger, he thought, ignoring the question of who would have saved all of them from Giard if he hadn't done it.

"Well, I'm sure Daubutim knows about this," he said. "It's probably why he took them as far away as possible from here."

"Well… he could have sent them to Cesterdon," Greldo said. "I'm sure Dianor would have appreciated some smiths. Daubutim said he'd been whining for some for years now."

Irwin wondered how Daubutim and his family were doing. From what he remembered, his friend hadn't wanted any contact with them.

He pondered about it as the evening went on until Zender asked him to play a song. Deciding it would be a good way to distract himself, Irwin agreed and until they left, he played and sang for his friends and crew.

Another four days passed in a blur of reforging and talking with Trimdir about potentially shattering his second fullhand. Finally, late on the day before The Academy building would be done, Irwin and Trimdir stood in the smithy.

"Just to be sure… you really want to try now?" Irwin asked.

"It's either do it now or wait for potentially ten years when I can bind with Hou'dor," Trimdir said, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "If this works, I can get a heartcard, and I'll be able to generate far more soulforce."

Irwin hesitated, then nodded. The alternative was that Trimdir used his current handcards to create a heartcard, which would then be only at topaz rank. It would hamper his potential far too much.

"Fine," he said.

He turned to Lilinethe, the third person in the smithy. She was a middle-aged woman with gleaming silver eyes, a narrow face, and a slight hunch from a wound that hadn't healed properly. She was also currently the strongest heartcarded healer in the world.

"You are crazy, old man," she said, glaring at Trimdir. "What if your mind shatters, or your soul? You could die!"

Hou'dor, who had been standing nearby, was laughing loudly, seeming undisturbed.

"I won't die," Trimdir said, glowering at her. "Now stop complaining, and let's get this done!"

Irwin took a deep breath, then took out one of the cards he'd bought and reforged a year ago.

Incendiary Fists: one of the few growth cards suited for Smiths that he had gotten his hands on. He'd reforged it to Ruby Rank, focusing on the fire aspect as it resonated with his soulcard, causing it to end up at close to ninety percent, the highest he had managed so far. With its growth type, it would be able to grow to diamond or beyond.

"Still fine with this one?" he asked, holding it out.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were all second-guessing my choices," Trimdir said, sounding disgruntled. "Yes, that one!"

Irwin handed the card to Trimdir, then moved to the center of the smithy. Ambraz landed before him, changing into his working size, and soon Trimdir stood there, his hand on Ambraz.

"Alright, Lilinethe, let me go over this one more time, just to be sure," Irwin said.

He knew he was procrastinating, but he couldn't stop being worried.

"Ambraz and I will start creating Trimdir's heartcard, but we will destablize his hands as we do. Normally, if someone fails to make a heartcard, all cards shatter, and although we are only aiming to break apart his second full-hand, I can't guarantee the worst won't happen. If that does-"

"If that does, he is going to start dying rapidly," Lilinethe said, interrupting him and glowering at Trimdir. "At that time, I'm going to have to keep him alive until he wakes up so he can slot a card, after which he will likely faint. In other words, we are going to be in for a horrible night. So don't mess up."

Irwin took a deep breath and relaxed.

Trimdir snorted. "Good, I feel better. You?"

Irwin looked at his old teacher and nodded. "I'm ready. Prepare yourself. This will not be fun."

Trimdir didn't say anything this time, but his six cards appeared, hovering above his hand.

Irwin took a quick look at them, still surprised at the quality of the second and third. He knew Lord Bron had helped Trimdir get them when they were still closing portals, but even then, having two topaz rank cards was incredible.

"Here we go," he whispered, striking the cards while the other half of him began playing the soulstrum guitar.

Within three strikes, he knew that forcing the resonance away from the optimal part was far easier than trying to make the perfect card. The trouble came from keeping it from spinning out of control and causing a complete shattering.

Irwin's concentration was stretched to the limit as he started walking a tight line between too good and too bad.

A horrifying song, disjointed and with more false notes than good ones, filled the room while Trimdir began shaking. His cards, which had been steady, were shivering, and cracks started appearing.

Too fast, Irwin thought, forcing the song closer to a good one, dragging the rudimentary heartcard along with it.

Another dozen or so strikes later, sweat was pouring down his head, and he had no more time to watch how Trimdir was doing. Every part of the song had to be exactly right, balanced perfectly for the six cards.

Time flashed by until he finally sensed the point- the exact thing he had been looking for. A tiny melody, hidden within the horrid song, that when he allowed it to dissolve to ruin, caused cracks to appear solely on the lines binding Trimdir's second full-hand.

Finally, Irwin thought as he let it drop further into cracking territory.

Almost immediately, he sensed the three cards that were part of it shivering, their resonance disjointed to the point of screaming.

Hold it, hold it, Irwin told himself, adding a soft timbre to the song to keep the handcards from shattering.

Another undeterminable time passed until, finally, a loud crack came. It was followed by a groan of pain as Trimdir dropped to his knees, the muscles on his face taut, tears running down his face.

Feeling the bonds that bound the full-hand shatter and unravel, Irwin waited until they were fully gone before changing the song, making it clearer and brighter. The gathered energy, which should be enough for a heartcard, began dropping rapidly with the loss of the full-hand.

"Hurry," Irwin growled. "Remove it!'

Trimdir let out a howl of agony as he grabbed at the top of his hand. Painfully slow, an amethyst card began rising from the back of his right hand. As it did, the build-up soulforce dipped dangerously low, and Irwin began shoving his own in it, feeling like he was pouring it into a bottomless pit.

He tried to will the card to speed up, but it took almost a minute for it to be ejected from Tridmir's hand. Immediately, the powerful smith let out a whimper. Still, the insane pain he must be experiencing didn't stop him from taking Incendiary Fists and putting it on the back of his hands. In contrast to the slowness of before, his hand seemed to almost drag it in, the card vanishing and the soulforce steadying. It was only just in time, and Irwin was left with barely twenty percent of his soulforce. The rest had been drained away in the short span of time.

"Alright, don't faint," Irwin growled, not just to Trimdir but also to himself. “Create your fullhand!’

Trimdir's eyes were closed, every muscle and tendon in his neck and face standing out like cables, but Irwin saw the lines appear.

I wonder how many people can even do this.

Ignoring the stray thought, he waited, constantly changing the song to keep the cards in pieces. When the lines finally surrounded the others and the new handcard formed, the soulforce began bucking, the resonances almost ten times as powerful as they had been before.

Now it's my turn, Irwin thought as he grabbed the different melodies and beats and began reshaping them, forming them around the new card, whose loud and fiery song was like an anchor in the soulforce resonating chaos.

Time passed as the song slowly began turning from a chaotic screaming mess into a beautiful song, the new card more central to it than with any other Heartcard Irwin had made.

When the song finally completed, a wave of soulforce rippling out while the room was bathed in a sudden fiery light, he felt like just dropping down and falling asleep there. Instead, he forced himself to remain standing, unsummoning his hammer as he watched Trimdir staggering back, both hands clasped to his chest, his face as pale as a sheet.

"Is it safe to heal him?" Lilinethe asked, her voice soft and meek.

"Yes," Ambraz said before yawning. "Also… I need to rest."

The Ganvil turned into his small form and flew to Irwin, who caught him and put him in his pocket.

Lilinethe rushed forward, a pale white light gleaming from her hands as she grabbed Trimdir. As the glow covered him, she grimaced, then cursed.

"Is he alright?" Irwin asked, taking a staggering step forward.

"He is fine," Hou'dor rumbled. "She is feeling the remnant of his pain."

Irwin was too tired to wonder how Hou'dor could know that and instead took a few steps to the side and thudded down on the stool. It was a good thing it had been made with his weight in mind, or it would have shattered.

Lilinethe remained with Trimdir for a long time before leaving him on the ground and stumbling to the table. She sat down opposite Irwin, looking at him.

"I… don't think you should do this too many times," she muttered. "Unless you can make the process… less like that."

Irwin nodded, his soulforce slowly refilling and his weariness fading a bit. Even then, if it was up to him, he'd join Trimdir and sleep on the ground.

"I would do better if I had to do it again," he said, knowing he was right. "This was the first time, and I didn't know the balance would be this exact. That said…" he sighed and shook his head. "I don't think I'll be doing this again unless it's necessary. Do you know when he will wake up?"

Lilinethe sighed, putting her arms on the table and leaning her head atop them.

"No idea. But probably a day, maybe two. Did it work?"

Irwin looked at Trimdir, focusing on the soulforce. He heard the song, strong and fiery, and tried to gauge its strength. Although it was only at ruby rank, the heartcard was already pulsing with a lot of power. More importantly, it was as stable as any he'd seen.

"Yes, Trimdir now has a heartcard at the same level as Daubutim and Greldo," Irwin said.

Lilinethe stared at Trimdir, then nodded. "If I hadn't seen this happen, I might have asked you to do this for me, but if you don't mind, I'll just live with what I have."

"I fully agree," Irwin said.

Though the weaker a card would be, the easier this would be, he thought.

Deciding everything was alright and he wouldn't have to do anything anytime soon, he let half of himself fall asleep. It was an odd sensation as he felt part of him became faint and dreamy. As he got up to get some of the water on a back shelf, he also felt something else, and he froze. His soulforce was recovering much faster than it had been only moments before, and as it did, he felt the horrible weakness he'd had before fade.

"Irwin, are you alright?" Lilinethe asked.

Hearing her stool scrape across the floor as she got up, Irwin quickly turned and waved her back down.

"I am fine, just surprised about something," he said.

Lilinethe examined him for a few moments before dropping back into her stool. "Good, because I'm too tired to move."

Irwin agreed with that statement and brought two cups and a jar of water.

I wonder if Trimdir will wake tomorrow, Irwin thought as he drank deeply.

If his friend and old teacher didn't, he'd have to take charge of the first official day of the Academy, and he really didn't feel like doing that.