86 - Steel in the Fire
Extended Holiday
Ch 86: Steel in the Fire
Act 11
Week 20, Day 4
Gakushu walked slowly towards Hammer Strike as the Pony worked in his forge. He barely felt his feet shuffling as he heard the banging of the hammer upon metal. The vibration of the smith’s carefully calculated strikes ran through his body. In his paws the remnants of Kurama’s naginata lay. They had managed to survive the attack, but unfortunately, Kurama’s pride had taken a great blow, especially with the loss of this precious weapon he had taken from his uncle.
“Yes?” Hammer Strike asked without turning from his work.
“Teach me, Sensei.” His tone was hushed, filled with the urgency of loss, suffering, respect, and, ultimately, a powerful desire. “Teach me so I may become stronger, become an asset to my friends. Kurama’s spear is shattered. I must repair it. I must do something for my brother. Please, Strike Sensei. Please teach me the ways of the forge. I care not if you start me at just the fire, but teach me.” With the strict class systems that had been set up back in Napon, this would have been an unacceptable request. But here, in this strange, new land, those laws held no power. And more importantly, necessity required that they be broken.
Hammer Strike was quiet for a time as he carefully transferred his project off to the side before turning to Gakushu. “You want to learn smithing? Truly?”
“It is far better than just gathering information to be stored in an archive out here. Out here, I must learn to help. You must need an assistant, one to whom you can pass your skills down. I wish to learn the secrets of drawing from the fire and molding ore into tools.”
After a moment Hammer Strike sighed. “I will teach you. On one condition.”
“What?” He paused a moment and closed his eyes. Then he spoke haltingly in Equish. “What is it?”
“Cut back on the formality with me. I don’t care for it, and I have been trying to get Kurama and Haku to cut back on it as well.”
“Then I will only call you Sensei.” The word was perfectly balanced, both respectful and loving. It would likely be the best Hammer Strike could get.
Hammer Strike sighed mentally before nodding his assent. “Alright. We will start tomorrow. You’ll need to be fully rested before we start.”
“As you wish, Sensei,” Gakushu said, taking his time to enunciate each word correctly. He turned around and left.
Week 20 Day 5
Kurama had been drifting in and out of consciousness since he had been laid on the bed. In the brief times when he was awake he was sometimes delirious, and it was hard to talk to him. When he was asleep his body was fitful and tense. When he was lucid he refused to eat more than half the time. If his condition didn’t improve soon, well the others tried not to consider the worst. Haku watched on from his seat next to the bed as kurama slept yet again, though it was far from peaceful as the orange Kitsune tossed and groaned in his sleep.
Kurama snarled as he ran through the cold winter forests. The winds howled, and unspeakable creatures of wind and shadow followed behind him faster than fire could spread on a plane. He clutched the shattered remnants of his naginata, little more than a tiny stub of a stick now as he leapt from branch to branch, planting spell notes as he went along. Each exploded sequentially, causing whinnies and roars of pain to echo across the expanse. Kurama smirked. Good. Maybe now he’d be able to find a way to escape and get back with the others.
He wandered the horizon, lost and alone. He couldn’t hear or smell anything, and the world stretched out before him, empty and lifeless. Was this purgatory? Had Yama put him here for eternity? He felt the wind pick up again as the cries echoed behind. Time for the hunt to resume again. He looked down to his clenching palm. A layer of frost covered his fur, turning it silver as he clutched his final spell note. This was not good.
Dropping the stick, he reached for the wakazashi at his side, only to find the scabbard empty. As the figures approached he attempted to light his embers, but the warmth had gone out of his soul. It seemed that this was it. He had nowhere to run, no means of defense. He was alone. His only hope was that Gakushu and Haku would survive to see their home again.
The creatures came as a great wave. Shadow from beneath, wind and cloud from above. As one, they reared to consume the kit in frozen fear for eternity. Kurama winced, bracing for the blow to come. A fitting end for a failure of a warrior.
“Enough of this!” a familiar voice said.
The cloud blew apart as if it had hit a solid wall, leaving behind nothing but a peaceful snowfall that steadily turned a rosy pink until cherry petals replaced the flakes and familiar trees swayed in a summer breeze, replacing the dank of the winter. Carefully hewn stone rested beneath the kit’s feet as he stared up the pathway to the shrine dedicated to the warrior gods and fallen spirits. Off in the distance the peaceful knell of the temple bell heralded the call to prayer and meditation that came a half hour before training. He knew it all so well.
“A true warrior must find peace within his heart, mind, and spirit before he can truly excel. Is that not the first edict you were taught when you arrived at this temple, Kurama?” The voice was velvety and smooth, well rested, and untouched by the passing years of harsh weather and combat, but Kurama would know it anywhere. A great blue light glowed from the shrine bells before coalescing into the familiar form of Kurama’s uncle. In the stead of his armor and weapons, a warrior’s kimono covered his form. The expression on his face was stern.
“Yes, Sensei.” Kurama’s head fell as he stood before the older Kitsune. “I have tried. So very hard to find it, but...” Kurama could barely keep his voice from cracking as he spoke. “I failed. I failed you, I failed my charges, I failed myself. I have left you with only a legacy of dishonor.” He couldn’t stop the tears as he spoke. “And no matter what I do, I can never make up for that.”
“Did you abandon your post?”
“No,” kurama said.
“Did you kill your charges?”
“I...I–no, Sensei.”
“Have you, in any way, broken the codes and statutes of the warrior as set down by the order of Bushido?”
“I failed,” kurama said. “I was defeated in combat. I didn’t even slow them down.”
“But you fulfilled your oath, as I did. All other facets of your struggle hold no bearing. A warrior strives to improve, and you have. But a warrior must also know when to acknowledge defeat, accept it, and learn from it. You have fulfilled the first, but you do not follow through with the rest.” The wise warrior shook his head. “Why?”
“Because you always told me a sword needs a sheath, and is no good without a master’s hand to guide it. What home do I have to return to? Who would have such an incompetent warrior?”
The orange Kitsune smacked his nephew on the nose, eliciting a sharp yip of surprise. “You are not incompetent!” He threw his hands into the air. “By the goddess, how could you be so stubborn? You have formed a sacred pact sealed by the goddess herself, have you not?”
“I swore to bring victory to my lord,” kurama shouted back. “I swore to die with honor and bring death to those who would be my enemies. When have I held that oath? When have I succeeded?”
“When you worked to better yourself. Your charges are safe, in no small part due to your bravery in defending them.” The elder Kitsune approached the kit and knelt, laying a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Kurama, you are still young. You expect too much of yourself too soon. You have shown greater strength than many in our company for persevering against the most difficult enemies of all, those which live within us every day of our mortal lives. You destroyed one of the creatures, a feat which no warrior your age has ever accomplished.” With a wave of his hand, the cherry blossoms coalesced into a whirling vortex through which the images of the battle took shape. “You fought with honor for your lord and your people, but for now that oath must be put aside. It has been fulfilled, and you have a new oath to keep, one which you made only a few weeks ago.” With another wave of his hand, Kurama’s uncle replayed the night that Kurama, Gakushu, and Haku had all sworn loyalty to one another as brothers.
“What do I do, Uncle? Please. I need guidance!” Kurama begged.
“Put aside your pride. Stop pretending to be something you have yet to fully become. You need time to mature spiritually, physically, emotionally, and mentally. Stop trying to be the adult, and take the time to grow naturally. The tree does not become mighty in a single day. It takes years of patience, training, and focus. You are but a sapling. Push yourself to grow too fast, and you will be uprooted by the wind. You have honor among your fellow warriors. Of that, you can be assured.” He smiled and ruffled the kit’s head fur. “And the goddess yet has many plans for you. Be patient. Learn slowly. Seek the tutelage of the one who protects you now, and the tutelage of your brothers. One branch breaks easily, but many branches are strong.” He sighed and turned back to the temple bells as they jingled on the wind. “My time grows short.”
“I–I will make you proud, Uncle.” Tears flowed freely as Kurama bowed to the Kitsune before him. He felt the familiar, strong arms around him, and the warmth of his uncle’s fur. Even the scent was the same.
“You have already made me proud, Kurama, my little warrior. Now fight to live, and recover your strength. We will be watching over you always.”
A last heavy sigh carried on the wind through the cherry boughs as the weight of his Uncle disappeared. A bright blue flame danced merrily in front of Kurama before slowly retreating to join a host of flames that had appeared around the shrine. Each flame held the figure of a Kitsune around it. Some were familiar. Others simply looked on, giving the impression of comradery and support paired with an unearthly wisdom.
As one, the flames took on the wavering forms of shinobi, samurai, lancers, martial artists, and even a few warrior monks. The ring of steel sang through the trees as kunai, naginata, katana, bo staff, mandala, and yumi bows were drawn and raised in salute. And there at the front of them all stood Kurama’s uncle, holding the broken piece of naginata from the dream as it glowed, growing outwards in a rose-hued white light before the aura dissipated to reveal the naginata in its full glory, whole as the day it had been hewn and forged. A white flame slowly appeared before forming into a wavering shadow. The shade reached out, took the staff, then light issued forth. When the light had passed, the final warrior of the party stood smiling next to his fellow warrior and raised his spear in salute to the brave young warrior, even as Kurama’s uncle drew his long sword.
“This code you will live by. Follow your heart. It will tell you what is right, and it will show you the way to true honor.”
“I will follow my heart,” Kurama swore as he bowed to his predecessors. “I will earn my place amongst you.”
“We know you will.” With that said the flames drew to one another and surrounded the bells as they began to tinkle and clang together. A woman’s laughter carried on the wind as the clamor grew in intensity. The flames glowed brighter and brighter until, at last, they shot off, leaving streaks of color in their wake as they ascended into the heavens. Afternoon drew to evening in a matter of moments as the sun fell below the horizon. The flames spiraled together, forming a great tail of colors as they streaked across the sky before separating across the four corners of the globe and resting in the broad expanse. There they stayed, each burning brightly in their own place as the rest of the stars began to emerge. A cool breeze blew across the grounds as Kurama found himself in front of the koi pond. Slowly, he allowed himself a deep breath, taking in the crisp night air before he lowered himself to his knees. With a calm he had not felt in quite some time, he emptied his mind and meditated.
Back in the real world, kurama suddenly stopped struggling in bed. Lying still for the first time in many nights, his breathing steadied as he fell into a deep calm slumber. Haku slumped in relief as he watched Kurama with bloodshot eyes. Peace had come at last. With a tired sigh, Haku lay back in his chair before the world returned to black.
Week 20 Day 5
Gakushu stood in the forge, waiting for Hammer Strike to begin his training. He shifted from paw to paw as he watched the smit hard at work on the anvil as he struck the red hot metal. He was two minutes early for his lesson.
“Let me finish and we’ll start,” Hammer Strike said as he finished shaping the axe with a hoof.
“Sensei Strike, do you have the pieces?” Gakushu asked as Hammer Strike finished. “I cannot find them in my chest.”
Hammer Strike gestured the table behind him.
“The table is empty, Sensei,” Gakushu said.
Hammer Strike turned towards the table with a questioning brow. “I mean, they burst with light for a moment, but I don’t think they could just destroy themselves.” He frowned. “Kurama or Haku might have taken them. You might want to check.”
“Later. I want to start learning how to make weapons,” Gakushu replied. “What do you recommend to start with?”
“Dagger or knife.”
“You mean a Tanto?” Gaksuhu asked.
“I mean, we can make those if you want, but I figured something different from your culture’s weapons and tools.”
“Maybe both?”
Hammer Strike shrugged. “Sure.”
“I am ready to begin,” Gakushu answered.
Hammer Strike reached over and brought what appeared to be a stone onto the table. “Let’s start with some basics, like the look and quality of ore.”
Over the next hour Hammer Strike went over the few ores that he had excavated from the mountain he was working in. Iron, copper, tin, gold, silver, orricalcum, malachite, moonstone, silveril, mythril, ebony, viridium, iridium, wood, and diamond.
“Why is there diamond?” Gakushu asked. “Also, how can there be so many different ores in your mine?” He bowed quickly. “My apologies, that question came out without thinking.”
“Huh … that must have gotten mixed in,” Hammer Strike mentioned has he threw the diamond over his shoulder into a pile of gems. “As for how there are this many ores, some of them form at different elevations.”
“What do you wish for me to start on?”
“For simple shaping so you can get the general idea, copper. It’s not good for actual equipment, but it’ll help get you into the idea of it.”
“Very well.” Gakushu smiled. “I look forward to the knowledge you will impart.”
“Hopefully you’ll be fine with the tools I have made.”
“We soon shall see.”
Hammer Strike proceeded to show, step by step, the process of heating, shaping, and treating the metal. Afterwards he began to teach Gakushu the process of making a grip, then showed him how to wrap it should he choose to make a wrap, before finishing off the design with a small pommel at the end.
Gakushu panted from the heat and exertion, but proudly looked at this alien dagger. He had finished placing a blue sapphire into the pommel and held it up. His eyes sparkled at the fact he had just created this item himself with his own two paws.
“And there you have it.” Hammer Strike finished. “A knife.”
“A knife. It is different, but I think I like it. Can we make the next one bigger?”
Hammer Strike broke into a grin. “I think this is the start of something wonderful.”
Week 22, Day 2
The makeshift family sat together at the table as they ate the meager herbal stew with what few chunks of meat they could spare. The pot hung from a makeshift tripod Hammer Strike had forged so they could enjoy it without burning the wood. The table itself had been relocated into Kurama’s room for the time being, so that he could recover without a sense of isolation. Great cheerfulness had filled the cabin for a time when Kurama finally woke and initiated the conversation, rather than the other way round. He was recovering well, and hopefully would be able to leave his bed in another week or so. Still, despite this welcome event, a sense of unease pervaded the cabin. Rationing had grown more severe, and prey more scarce. At this rate the food supply would last for perhaps one more week at most. The grim reality of that fact hovered over each of them, especially Kurama, as he carefully brought a chunk of potato to his mouth from his place in bed.
Haku sighed. “Low supplies, frigid temperatures, frozen earth, and few, if any, animals to hunt. If we don’t find a way to warm things up here, I doubt our warding spells will do much good.”
“Haku, can you hunt?” Gakushu asked with worry. “I can make you arrowheads, but I know I cannot hunt.”
“I know the theory, but I’ve never had to apply it before.” He shook his head. “Besides, as long as we have this winter to deal with, most animals will either be hibernating or have moved far away from here. It will be very hard to track any that might remain. We’ll need bait. Some kind of food source to lure them out.”
“And with that comes the need for a garden, in a harsh cold environment,” Hammer Strike commented. “I can build a room for insulation, but the tricky part will be sunlight.”
Haku shrugged. “Solar magic is the most advanced of pyromancy. We do not have the skills for it, and not even the greatest of the high priests invoke it lightly.”
Hammer Strike hummed to himself in thought. “I mean, there might be something we can do about that…”
“Unless you know of a way to kill off all of those spirits at once, I’m not exactly certain what else we can do,” Haku said.
“Maybe we should focus on one task at paw?” Gakushu asked. “The farm or garden first? Once we have a proper food supply, then we can see about pushing those spirits away.”
“That was my point, Gakushu. A garden can’t grow without sunlight and warmth. Those spirits are blocking both.”
“But Strike Sensei would not have said something unless he has a plan already,” Gakushu countered.
“If I try what I am thinking, I don’t know how well it’ll turn out,” Hammer Strike said with some unease. “But, if it works…”
“Then we have something to keep fighting?” Gakushu asked.
“Here’s a question. Do you think an Earth Pony like myself can make solar fire?”
“According to our records, your tribe works with the earth, and has great skill as farmers. You’ve already shown us that you can make use of magical fire, so you are clearly not an average Earth Pony. But to wield the power of the sun itself? Are you trying to kill yourself?” Haku asked.
“If Death himself can’t do it, who knows how far I can push the boundary?”
“You have faced a Shinigami?” Haku’s eyes widened as his spoon clattered to his bowl, splashing the broth onto his fur and the table itself.
“It’s fun. I punch him, he tries to kill me. It’s a back and forth thing.”
“But … but that’s impossible!” Haku gaped at the Earth Pony.
“And I love to do the impossible,” Hammer Strike said as he stood from the table. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to see how an environment like this reacts to my kind of magic.” He grinned and left the table. A few moments later, the sound of the front door slamming reached the trio where they sat as Hammer Strike made his way outside.
“... I don’t know if anyone in Napon will even believe us,” Haku said, bewildered as he still struggled to accept what Hammer Strike had just said.
“Maybe we are dead and we do not know it?” Gakushu muttered in shock.
“I know for a fact that's not true,” Kurama said with a weak chuckle.
“He’s right. If we were, he would be whole, not laid up in bed like this,” Haku agreed.
The was a sudden bright flash of light followed by an intense hissing as a great fog suddenly rolled in, obscuring the view of the forest.
“What in the goddess’ name…?” Haku swore as the trio turned to stare out the window as they watched the sudden water droplets condense on it before freezing over. Soup forgotten, he bolted for the door.
“Wait!” Gakushu shouted “We do not know if it is safe.”
Kurama groaned in frustration as he flopped back onto his pillows.
Hammer Strike blinked repeatedly as he tried to clear his vision. While his first attempt worked, he may or may not have put too much energy into it. He shook his head as his vision began to return to him. “Alright, attempt one, success. Just too much of a success,” he muttered to himself as he looked to the grass beneath him. The snow had been melted away in the flash of intense heat, shrivelling the grass as well.
He exhaled as he focused once more on Celestia’s magic as contained within his thaumic field. Searching around, he felt another touch, light and cool to compliment the warmth of the solar magic. It was almost as if … Luna, of course. All the times she’d teleported him must have allowed his thaumic field to sample her power and take it to bolster his own. She was the only other magical entity strong enough to manage something like that. It would explain the claws he’d manifested the first night, and the ability to feel the frigidity of the winter weather. But seeing as he was looking to make use of sunlight, and not moonlight, he passed over that bit of magic and filed its location away for later experimentation.
He sighed, thinking to himself on the power flow needed to have a decent orb of solar energy. The main problem was if he pushed it too far, it would essentially just end up as plasma. If he pushed it too little, it would sputter and die in the cold. His mind went back to a conversation he remembered having, though he could not with who. A way to keep the solar energy self sustaining is what he needed, and whoever they had been had offered a good idea on how.
He took a breath as he focused on making a smaller orb of solar energy. More slowly this time, the orb took shape and began to grow, becoming more dense over time. The energy continued to build as he began to focus on making the sphere drain ambient magic from the environment to sustain itself. The earth may have been frozen, and the sun may have been cut off, but that didn’t keep the magic field Equis had from functioning. His ears twitched as the orb pulsed, bathing the clearing by the cliff in its warmth.
“What in the goddess’s name is going on here?” Haku asked. Hammer Strike couldn’t help but smirk. It was about time the kit loosened up.
“To describe it simply, magic. To describe it in a more complex manner, I simply created an orb of solar energy, then reworked it to sustain itself off the power being produced by the planet itself.”
“... Come again?” Haku’s eyes darted first to Hammer Strike, then to the miniature sun, then back to the Pony again.
“I made a miniature sun,” Hammer Strike explained with a shrug.
“How? That is some of the most dangerous magic in existence, and you shrug it off like it is nothing.” The Kitsune looked warily at the ball as tiny spurts of flame burst out before returning to its surface.
“Because I mess with a field of power that could destroy me in less than a second. Daily. Messing with magic like this, however, isn’t as dangerous.”
“I do not know whether to run away or beg you to teach me.” Haku shuddered as he looked back at the ball of energy, but at least the cold was retreating. It was even getting warm enough to call the area a mild spring.
“I don’t think I want you to try this field of power. Like I said, in an instant I can be gone without a trace. No body, no ash, not even my soul would be able to escape the devastation.”
“I meant in other magics, but I will keep your warning in mind. It is not my place to meddle in the affairs of the gods.”
“Let’s hope I never have to use a large amount of it.” Hammer Strike hummed to himself. “I’ll have to build a greenhouse, at least something close enough to it. The glass panes are going to be an interesting thing to make.”
“And won’t this warmth draw the Windigo to us? We should probably make our way back to the house before they arrive.”
“They blocked out the sun. Why would they want to move towards a source similar to it that can already survive their grasp?” Hammer Strike questioned. “But, if needed, I can make a few of these around the perimeter to keep them at bay. And perhaps you three could actually be outside and not be freezing.”
“You mean they won’t try to snuff it out?”
“They can try, but I made sure it won’t give out easily,” Hammer Strike chuckled. “In fact, I may just make it backlash if they were to try.”
“How did you become so skilled at magic, Hammer Strike? By all accounts, one of your species shouldn’t be capable of any of this, and yet you are.”
“In a way, I’m not exactly the same as most Earth Ponies. That, and I’ve spent a long time reading about and learning how to control this power, and manipulate it in such a way as to ensure I won’t kill myself or those around me.”
“So yours is a completely new branch of magic that rivals divine power?”
“One that no one will learn unless I show them, or they can translate a certain book that nobody was able to translate.”
“... That sounds oddly familiar,” Haku said as he stroked his chin in thought.
“Do tell.”
“I remember reading something in the archives about that. A book from the gods written in a language none can comprehend. Some theorize it’s being held in a secret sanctum until instructions are given from the goddess saying otherwise, but those are merely rumors.” He shrugged. “Other than that, I’m afraid I know rather little.”
Hammer Strike thought on something for a moment before he reached into his coat and pulled out a book. “Tell me, what would you say if I had a certain untranslatable book. I don’t know about the goddess part of it, but…” He held it out. “This is the raw book, not translated. I keep the one I translated hidden.”
Haku carefully examined the cover, then gently opened the volume before casually flipping the pages. He shook his head. “These characters mean nothing to me. And I am afraid we do not have a caricature of the book to compare with.”
“Forte quadam die scies?” Hammer Strike chuckled as he took the book back. “Unus dies…” he finished, placing the book back into his coat.
“What did you just say?”
Hammer Strike simply chuckled as the orb began to move its way towards home. He continued to chuckle as he followed the orb. “Come on now. Perhaps I’ll tell you one day.”
Haku sighed and shook his head. “Am I correct to assume that you are responsible for the earlier explosion?”
“I put too much power into the first orb, and it may have burned itself out, as well as the environment around it.”
“I see.” Haku shuddered.
Week 39 Day 5
Kurama breathed deep as he strolled across the grass for the first time in weeks. His healing had gone well, and Haku had finally pronounced him well enough to be out of bed rest, provided he took things easy for a few more days. The crisp morning air felt good in his lungs and on his fur as he strolled. “The goddess had brought another beautiful morning to us,” he said to no one in particular.
Gakushu smiled by one of the trees as he did his best to hide a long box behind his back. He shifted from one paw to the other, doing his best to appear to be enjoying the new day. With the addition of Hammer Strike’s new solar spheres, spring had returned to their little stretch of land, and the earth had begun to revive as the ground thawed near the new greenhouses.
“Pleasant morning to you, my brother.” Kurama smiled in an almost serene fashion as he gave a small bow. “How has your forge work been?”
“Well, it is Hammer Strike Sensei’s forge, but it is going well. In fact, that was what I was hoping to talk to you about.” He paused and flicked an ear. “After all that has been happening, this still feels surreal and strange.”
“Of course.” Kurama smiled at him. “Please, let’s talk.” In a gesture a blast of gold flames came from his palm, clearing the area before them of snow. He gestured kindly for Gakushu to take a seat. “There is actually something I need to say to you.”
“Yes?” Gakushu asked as he sat down, a brow quirking at the unusual color of Kurama’s fire. “I have my ears perked.”
“My attitude these last few months towards you and Haku has been unacceptable. I have been surly, argumentative, and aggressive.” He bowed his head. “For that, I can only say gomen’nasi, Gakushu san,” he apologized.
“I feel that part of it was my own emotions and actions.” Gakushu shuddered. “I fear that I was partly to blame for your actions. But the past is in the past. What family has brothers that do not fight or act like we do? You wanted to protect us, and that is why I wanted to speak with you.” He smiled as one of his tails tapped the chest. “Open it up, please, big brother.”
Kurama looked at the box partly in shock, and partly in anticipation as he opened it slowly. Inside, sitting snugly in the skins of several rabbits, lay a katana. The long blade was sheathed in treated wood, but not lacquered as was the traditional custom. He immediately suspected this was due to the lack of such goods in their current situation. He ran his hand across the wood. It had been smoked black with a silver blossom embedded at the top near the hilt. The tsuba itself was shaped from silver, and kurama could make out the markings of a powerful talisman. The handle was covered in treated skin of a type Kurama couldn’t identify, and wrapped with a black cord. Beneath the cord on one side, the image of a dragon carved within a deep red stone was tied down by the wrap. A black knob known as the kuri-kata was embedded near the top of the hilt with an orange cord running through it to be tied to the wielder’s belt.
“You made this?” Kurama asked in shock, almost scared to draw the blade.
“I did.” Gakushu nodded and motioned for Kurama to try the weapon.
Reverently, Kurama lifted the sheathed blade in his hands and felt its weight. He grasped almost nervously at the handle and pulled. The blade slid free practically willfully. Examining the craft, he found it had been forged from a metal he had never seen before. The blade was black like coal, so that it almost seemed to cut the light as it hit the blade. Several kanji had been carved into the left side of the katana, forming a powerful charm that ended with the same blossom the hilt had inscribed upon it. Placing the sheath down gently, Kurama stood back and felt the blade’s weight. He swung it and felt it obey his will without question. He channeled his magic through it, and the blade became wreathed in gold flames instantly. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered. “What have you named it, brother?”
“Me? Name it? You are the warrior. Strike Sensei told me that I should tell you that you need to name it.”
“Then Fuyu no Aki shall be its name.” Kurama held the blade horizontally across both paws and got on his knees before his brother. “And with it, I do pledge my service as a samurai to you, my lord Gakushu.”
“But… I am your brother. How can you–how can I be your lord when we are brothers?”
“Who better to serve than my brother?” Kurama returned.
“That ... that makes sense,” Gakushu answered. He looked around. “You want to see what Hammer Strike Sensei is up to? I think he said something about working on an experiment in the greenhouse.”
“Of course, my brother.” In a single motion Kurama returned the blade to its sheath before tying it to his belt with the curve side facing up, crossing the sheath of the wakizashi. He smiled as he adjusted to the weight. He had a true sword now, not the secondary weapon he’d taken for cleaning game. His soul was complete. He gestured for Gakushu to lead the way.
Year 1 Week 39 Day 5
Hammer Strike frowned as he looked at his reflection, his goatee had turned into a beard at this point, and he hadn’t decided on whether to keep it as such or shave it off. Heck, Haku even suggested letting it grow out in the style of dwarf Ponies with how long he spent in his forge and mines.
Gakushu knocked on the door to his room. “Strike Sensei, are you planning to expand our area? Maybe widen the path from home to the lake?”
“I might later. I feel a bit out of it right now,” Hammer replied.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m just feeling unmotivated to do much right now,” Hammer Strike replied. “I might take a break from building and smithing, work on some combat exercises, magic, manipulate the energy around us, something other than the same thing day in and day out with the same outcome.”
“Does that mean I could use one of the forges to smith and hone my skill?” Gakushu asked.
“Use either one.”
“I shall use the cave one, then. Will we see you at dinner tonight?”
“As usual, yes.”
“Good to hear. Do you want me to make any tools for us while you are changing your routine?”
“We aren’t in need of any additional tools,” Hammer Strike commented as he pulled out a familiar book.
“Very well, I shall work on my own tools and weapons to become better.” Gakushu slowly left the door frame and made his way towards the forge.
“Well,” Kurama said, “I will be heading to re-stock our wood supply. I’ll be sure to be back in time for our lesson, Sensei,” he said, bowing through the door frame.
“You know I can only hear that you’re bowing, right?” Hammer Strike questioned.
“It’s tradition,” Kurama retorted.
“And you should know I don’t care about tradition in the first place,” Hammer Strike replied. “But, I won’t hold it against any of you because eventually you’ll be returning home, and need to still keep those in mind. Let’s just hope I don’t ever arrive there, as I doubt I will be able to follow your traditions easily, nor do I care about titles.”
“Very well, Sensei. I will see you later.” With that, he headed off.
“Hammer Strike … oh, you’re busy. I’ll come back later,” Haku said as he performed an about face.
“What is it Haku?”
“Well, you’ve been teaching us so much, I was wondering if I might be able to return the favor, and you have been looking a little …”
“And what do you want to tell me about?”
“I thought you might want to learn the art of the brush.” He shrugged, then finally said it outright. “You looked bored.”
“I always look bored. That’s nothing new.”
“But you do feel bored?”
“I nearly always feel bored because some of the stuff I would like to make, I can’t.”
Haku shrugged. “Why?”
“Because they shouldn’t exist yet, and because they may or may not be destructive, which we don’t need at this moment.”
“Couldn’t you just make them and then destroy them? I doubt any of us have the skill to be able to replicate what you do, even if we tried.”
“As I stated, half of them we don’t need. It’d be useless to make them.”
“And that should stop you from enjoying what you do, why?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in a manner surprisingly like Hammer Strike himself would do.
“Why waste materials on an object that I will deconstruct and do the same thing over and over. As I stated to Gakushu, I will be working on something else, some magic, some combat, something different for the time being.”
“Would you care for some company?”
“If you don’t mind hearing me mutter in either Draconic or a language that doesn’t exist on this planet besides in a single book that nobody can understand, sure.”
Haku shrugged. “Only if you don’t mind my unusual sneezes.”
“I still don’t get why your sneeze sounds like you’re saying your name…”
“You should have seen me when I was five.”
Year 1 Week 55 Day 3
Gakushu stood nervously by a covered table shifting from paw to paw as he looked at the door and waited for his brothers and Hammer Strike to enter. He wanted to show off his latest creation. A loud knock finally broke the silence, and heralded the expected party’s arrival.
Hammer Strike entered the room, Haku and Kurama trailing behind him.
Gakushu smiled as he fidgeted at the edge of the table. “I–I know this is a bit advanced for me as a beginner, but I think, well, sensei, my father...” He took a moment to compose himself before continuing. “He was fascinated with this idea, and I know it isn’t working right now, but maybe Strike Sensei can help make a working model. I hope you two like it as well.” With that he pulled the sheet off the table to reveal a very crude crossbow. “I am still having trouble with the molds, but before we left, Father told me that some of the emperor’s weapon smiths were talking of creating a streamlined production by making individual parts en masse and then assembling them together.”
“... Strange, I don’t recall seeing anything like this while I was studying in the archives. How long has this weapon been around?” Haku asked as he began to circle the table.
“About two years before we left on our journey,” Gakushu answered. “Sensei was training me to continue our profession, so he taught me some of the advancements for history’s sake. He and I were worried how easy it might be for the peasants to use it against our daimyos or their lesser Lords.”
“It will never replace the yumi,” kurama noted slightly defensively as he stroked the quiver of arrows at his side.
“You never know what advancements will happen in weaponry. In any category, honestly. What works today could be improved tomorrow, and though the old way is more accepted, others try to better it further,” Hammer Strike commented.
“The tension on the string looks unwieldy,” kurama noted. “In the time it would take to reset it, I could have ten shots fired.”
“But the tension would also allow for greater distance and force, Kurama. At a proper distance, given the proper augmentation, it could be downright deadly,” Haku noted. “A single shot could pierce most armor, could it not?”
“Well, yes,” Gakushu acceded, “but also, from what I was told, this weapon could be utilized during times of war that would need the Samurai in one place and other troops in another. I think I heard it was meant to be a weapon of last resort or first strike. The debate was still going when we left.”
“Each tool holds its own purpose, Kurama,” Hammer Strike said before he turned to Gakushu. “I can easily help you finish it off.”
“You can?” He bowed hastily, a broad smile on his face. “Thank you, Sensei. Thank you so very much. I ... I want to be a smith, but not of tools for peasants. I want to make the tools for the samurai, for our warriors.”
“Then perhaps I can teach you a few ... special weapons before we part ways.”
“Oh?” Gakushu asked, his eyes lighting up with joy as a small toothy grin formed.
“We’ll see how far you get before I teach you those,” Hammer Strike chuckled. “So far though, you show potential.”
“Thank you, Sensei. I am in the process of creating a new sword, like you showed me, but made to Kurama’s height.” He turned to Kurama. “I have to stay in practice, and I do want to try something else with this forge.”
“Fuyu no Aki serves me fine, my lord. It is as sharp as the very embodiment of an inclined plane.”
“Well you are the only Samurai we have, so I have only one template to work on. I am sorry, Kurama, but you might have enough weapons for an army by the time I am finished, or at least one of every weapon I can think of.”
“Do you think you might be able to forge something for me as well, Gakushu? Magic and spells are all well and good, but it never hurts to be prepared.” Haku rubbed the side of his arm with a slight wince. “Strike Sensei taught me that today.”
“We will have to ask Kurama what weapons are allowed for you to wield. I do not want you in trouble for wielding something above your station.”
“If I am our samurai, I suppose that would make Haku our priest.” Kurama laughed to himself. “Generally the priests fight with blunt weapons. If you do wish for a blade, there are the twin hooks, or the emei piercers. Otherwise, perhaps the staff, or the sectioned staff?”
“I believe a sectioned staff would be most practical. I may be able to add an additional layer of functionality to it through enchantment as well. Though I think it might be wise for me to carry a dagger anyways, just to be on the safe side,” Haku said.
“A three sectioned staff, then.” Kurama nodded. “Have you seen the monks training with them, Gakushu?”
“Only once. Do you have any means of showing how they looked?”
“I can draw one from memory, but you will need to figure out the chainwork yourself, unfortunately.”
“I think I can work on that. It may take some time, but I will do my best. I will not give you something that is not usable,” Gakushu promised.
Haku smiled. “I will look forward to it, brother. Thank you.”
Year 2 Week 10 Day 15
Hammer Strike took a breath as he looked to a dim yellow crystal in his hoof. An aspect in solid form. He frowned to himself as he looked it over. “You did the calculations, ran over possible outcomes, ensured everyone was at a safe distance… It’ll be fine,” he muttered to himself, calming his nerves.
His hooves flared with blue fire as he pulled the shard towards his left hoof. When the shard had drawn close enough to the hoof, he began to slowly move it, drawing a symbol in the air. The blue energy shifted in hue ever so slightly as the crystal began evaporating, leaving a glowing trail. A moment later he finished drawing the symbol and the crystal was gone, leaving a fading symbol hovering in the air as the blue fire calmed to nothingness and the remaining light disappeared.
He took several breaths as nausea settled in, and shortly after, left him. “Okay, no errors. I didn’t kill myself or destroy something. Good.” After taking a moment to let everything settle, he turned towards a practice dummy he had set up earlier.
At some unseen signal Hammer Strike charged forward, the world around him slowing to a crawl as his momentum increased far beyond what should have been physically possible. The feeling was exhilarating, yet terrifying. He tried to breathe, but found the air wouldn’t move in or out of his lungs. As he struck the first dummy the dummy's destruction didn’t happen at the speed he was accustomed. Instead it started to break apart slowly as he passed by. The second dummy came up, and he managed two strikes before the concussive force of the first punch began to act on the figure. He moved towards the third dummy, only for his body’s demand for oxygen to cause his hoof to misstep. He tripped, stumbled, and proceeded to go tumbling forward several meters before finally coming to a complete stop. He breathed greedily, sucking the precious life-giving substance his body craved. The air particles were finally able to move at a speed that allowed them to replenish his body.
The world began to spin as he kept breathing, nausea taking over as he dry heaved. “Test one–” he heaved once more. “–Success. And I don’t want to try that again any time soon. Not used to high speed. Note to self, ask Grif about it later.”
“Are you alright, Hammer Strike?”
Haku’s voice wavered ever so slightly to the Earth Pony as the world began to settle once again. Hammer would definitely need to find out a way to breathe while he was moving that fast. Being stuck like this on the battlefield would mean nothing but death.
“Yeah, just… just trying to let my body rest. Moved too fast.”
“You’ve seen this tactic accomplished with more success by another, I assume?” Kurama asked.
“Partially. Hard to keep track of his movement at that speed.”
“Some of the older kitsune have learned to increase their speed. Not at that level, but it is possible. They mention the technique is hard to master because of the differences in a world moving so much slower.”
“I don’t plan on mastering it, just some practice,” Hammer Strike said as he pushed himself to his hooves.
“Not until I’ve patched you up,” Haku insisted. “You’re bleeding.”
“Well, that’s a different feeling. Then again, I may have weakened my other aspects by adding a temporary one…”
“You just smashed through a tree at a speed that no ordinary Pony could ever hope to survive with only a few bad scrapes to show for it,” Haku added as he started wrapping some homespun cloth around the wounds. “How is it that you can take so much damage so easily?”
“That, too,” Hammer Strike chuckled. “I think I’m going to try another aspect next, try that one again some other time.”
“I have just one question before you do, Hammer Strike,” Haku said.
“And that would be?”
“What are aspects?”
“Everything in the world in a form that I can manipulate and bind to myself in this case.”
“Such power encroaches upon the territory of the divine,” Kurama noted.
“It would explain why he is so well known in legend,” Haku added.
“How many times have we been warned about such things, Haku? Mortals were not meant to wield the power of gods.”
“And yet, if he did not, we would be dead.”
“Be that as it may, you will not seek to learn these arts, Haku,” Kurama insisted.
“You act like I would even be willing to teach this to any of you,” Hammer Strike commented blandly as he brushed the splinters and pine needles that had caught in his mane and fur out.
“And so it is settled.” Haku smiled. “So what is to come next, Hammer Strike?”
“Next comes me trying more stupid things because I can.”
Year 2 Week 58 Day 4
For what seemed like the hundredth time, the wooden pole thumped against Haku’s own head as Kurama dodged and countered. The solid wood blasted a searing pain on impact. “I told you. Don’t stop just because you attack. You need to keep your momentum.”
“This is more difficult than it looks,” Haku said, rubbing his head gingerly.
“All weapons are more difficult than they look,” Kurama rebuttled. “To learn to fight can take years, centuries. Some warriors have been mastering weapons longer than the mages and priests have studied spellwork.” He took the crude training weapon from Haku and demonstrated the movements again, never halting as he shifted the weapon around his body like a snake, allowing the staff’s own weight to control its movement. “You have been trained to think, and there is your first problem. Don’t.”
“How?” Haku asked.
“You must unlearn what you have learned. Trust your feelings and your instincts. Let the goddess guide you.”
“... I’ll try,” he said uncertainly.
“Do or do not!” Kurama told him sternly. “There is no try.”
Haku gulped. “This is going to take a while, isn’t it?”
“It will be a skill you may be honing your entire life. All I can do is make sure you don’t kill yourself doing so.”
“But you can let me get bruised and beaten.” Haku chuckled and took up the basic stance. “Shall we continue?”
Kurama was about to speak when his gaze caught something behind Haku and his brow seemed to furrow.
“What is it, Kurama?” Haku asked.
Kurama pointed to the horizon. The sun was setting slowly in the distance. As the light receded something bright shone on a cliff just on the edge of their vision. “How do you make a smokeless fire, Haku?” Kurama asked cryptically.
“How can you tell it’s a fire?” Haku countered.
“You expect to find highly polished steel out this far? The Light we can see is yellow, and the light’s directed in our direction. A reflection should be shining away from us as the sun is setting.”
“Then that leaves only one other option.”
“We should talk to Hammer Strike Sama immediately. Maybe we can get to them before the windegos do.”
“We can try. Though considering the distance we have to cover, it is unlikely, unless Hammer Strike knows a faster method of travel.”
With that said, the pair raced for the cabin. Well, Kurama raced. Haku hobbled as fast as his bruised and aching body could carry him. Kurama slammed the door open, taking in the scene of the living room as he searched for their guardian. They eventually found him in the back room storage areas. “Hammer Strike Sama, we saw fire on the horizon!”
Hammer Strike looked puzzled. “I thought you said it would be several years before a search party was formed, unless this is another group of some sort out here.”
“I’m not sure, but it was smokeless. Not many can create smokeless fire. We need to find out.”
“Distance from us to them?”
“A few leagues at least. The light was barely a glimmer,” Haku said.
“That’ll take some time to get to.”
“Yes, it will. I fear we may be too late by the time we get there.”
“Then we need to get moving now, and as fast as possible. Kurama, do you want to go or stay to defend?”
“I’ll stay. Gakushu won’t want to leave, and you’ve had more success against the windigos then we have.”
“Alright, Haku, you’ll be coming with me. If it is more Kitsunes, then I’ll need you around,” Hammer started as he began moving towards the door. “And you’ll need to direct me where you saw it.”
“Alright.” Haku nodded, though his tail had ducked between his legs, betraying his anxiety.
The pair ran well into the evening until they reached the base of the cliff. Haku panted heavily as he struggled to regain his breath while Hammer Strike took in their surroundings, ever alert for the windigo they knew were out there.
“Clear for now. Let’s get up there,” Hammer Strike said as he searched for a proper trail.
“I believe they went this way, Hammer Strike,” Haku said as he sniffed at the air. “Their scent is weak, but I can follow it.”
“Then let’s move.”
Darting through the brush, Haku discovered the recently disturbed snow and undergrowth forming a hint of a game trail. Careful not to slip on the slick surface, he began the precarious climb up with Hammer Strike in tow. “This is definitely Kitsune work. The slope wouldn’t be nearly so slippery had someone not melted the snow first to make a safer passage.”
Eventually the pair found their way to the top of the cliff, where a thick layer of snow and what appeared to be a collapsed drift of … something lay. Some small remnants of icicles and chunks poked out intermittently. “The trail goes cold here. They can’t have moved far from this spot. Not unless they could teleport,” Haku said.
“I wouldn’t put it past anyone,” Hammer Strike commented, “but I have a terrible feeling in the back of my mind.”
Haku shuddered. “It’s colder here. Do you think they may have been attacked?”
“I’m sorry to say, but yes, they were.”
“You sensed the windigo?” Haku looked nervously around the clearing.
“Not sensed,” Hammer Strike clarified, clearing snow at his hoof.
Haku gasped as the snow was swept away to reveal a face quite literally frozen in horror, its scream forever trapped. Haku dropped to his knees. “Oh, goddess,” he swore quietly.
“I’m sorry, Haku.” Hammer Strike looked to the kitsune. “There is nothing we could have done.”
“How many lives have those things taken by now?” Haku shook his head, then clasped his paws together in silent prayer as he whispered to the stars.
Hammer Strike’s eyes flared for a moment as he looked to the frozen kitsune. “That can’t be right…”
Haku’s ear twitched. “What … can’t be right, Hammer Strike?”
Hammer Strike began thawing the ice over one of the bodies. After a moment, he pulled one the Kitsunes out and hovered an orb of fire near him. The creature gasped, then breathed as deeply as possible before flailing and swiftly falling unconscious.
“How …?” Haku began.
“It hasn’t been too long. I’ll explain more later. For now just make sure they’re still breathing as I pull them out,” Hammer Strike said as his body began to radiate heat, melting the snowy covering to reveal the massive slab they had stepped on. He dug a hoof into the next space, hissing through the ice and digging it out and around the body like a spoon cleaning a pumpkin. Soon he had the second one out, and tossed the apparently lifeless Kitsune next to Haku. The kit promptly cast a healing spell with one hand while concentrating magical fire in the other to generate heat and bring the older fox around. The last one was came in short order.
“They’re not fit for travel right now, Hammer Strike. We’ll need to give them time to recover before we can make the journey back,” Haku noted.
“I’ll carry them. We need to get them back.”
Haku looked ponderingly at Hammer Strike, then back at the Kitsunes’ clothes. “Gomenasai,” he said as he bowed and pulled the sashes from their belts before he began to lift them as best he could onto Hammer Strike’s back. It took a few tries, and the occasional application of the Pony’s strength, but eventually all three victims were slumped equally. To ensure that they would remain, Haku tied each of the cloth belts together, then tightly wound them around the recumbent forms. “It isn’t perfect, but it will have to do.”
“Alright, let’s move.”
Year 3 Week 4 Day 4
“–rike Sens … aking up.”
Michio groaned. His head felt like he’d eaten too much mochi ice cream. It throbbed. His throat felt dry, and … why did he feel so disoriented? He reached out with his blue furred paw and rubbed his head. “What … happened?” he murmured.
“You were attacked and frozen alive by a windigo,” Hammer Strike responded from his seated position.
“A … what?” Michio asked. He felt something warm and fuzzy brush his forehead.
“His fever appears to have dropped, Hammer Strike. His body should be returning to full health soon,” a young voice piped up.
“Good. As for your question, that is the name of the ice horse thing you attempted to fight and lost to,” Hammer explained.
The blue Kitsune blinked a few times as his vision slowly cleared to reveal a scarred Earth Pony with a torn ear and a dead expression. Michio’s black-ringed ears twitched as he moved to sit up, only to see a young kit approach the stallion and stand at his side. “The … the others,” he slurred, struggling to form the words.
“There were three of you, correct?” the Earth Pony asked.
“Yes … we were … sent. Sent to … to explore, to find … something.” He rubbed his head. “Forgive me. It is … difficult to organize my thoughts.”
“Are you sure it was something, or was it someone?”
“I … I am not sure. We … we were … cold. So cold. And our fires could not stay lit. I … I thought I would see the goddess.”
Hammer Strike looked over the trio before giving a soft sigh. “Hopefully you’ll all remember everything when you’ve rested and healed fully.”
“I thank you … for your kindness.” Michiro’s eyes suddenly felt so very heavy. “Are … the others...?”
“The other two are here resting as well. I will have their beds moved into here so you won’t be far from your team.”
“... Arigato,” he sighed before falling back into his pillows and the calm blackness of sleep.
Haku turned to Hammer Strike. “They were most likely part of a search party to confirm if we were dead. A lack of any reports usually leads to this sort of action. The scars on his body indicate rigorous training. He’s even gone so far as to etch spell kanji into his skin beneath the fur.”
“Dedicated,” Hammer Strike shrugged. “Haku, would you mind keeping an eye on them? If they need my attention, or you need my attention, come and get me in the mines. I shouldn’t be too far in.”
“As you say.” Haku bowed his head, then turned back to the sleeping Kitsune as he applied a series of warm compresses to his head and replaced some of the old rags in key arterial locations to circulate warmth. “I will alert you when something changes.”
Outside in the hallway, Gakushu stood anxiously. “How are they?” He asked. “Will they get better?”
“They’ll recover.” Hammer Strike sighed. “Honestly, they are incredibly lucky. If we were any later, I have a feeling they wouldn’t be here with us.”
“That bad.” Gakushu stared off into space for a time. “Well, I hope they get better soon. This is going to be … fun, I suppose the word would be. We have three more Kitsunes now to help around the site.”
“Yes … fun,” Hammer Strike said as he slowly strode for the door and made his way to the mines.
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Another great chapter. Took me awhile to get through with so many distractions. The making of the mini sun? As Pinkie would say are you loco in the coco.
Ok i like the side story of seeing Hammerstrikes past, but i hope it comes to an end in the next chapter. Plus i wanna see Hammerstrike swinging around one of his mini suns like a midevil mace, obliterating the windigos, as he and the kitsunes make it to freedom.
Fun...
7242593
It might take more than one more chapter, but the journey will be coming to an end soon. The whole point is that this time Hammer Strike has to spend a long time taking care of and getting to know the kits that he will eventually be seeing in Napon. Well, one of them at least. Don't worry, this arc will end soon, and then we'll be back in the present again. In the meantime, we hope you're at least enjoying the scenes.
7242827
Would you mind expanding on that?
7242841
When hammerstrike said this will be fun, that was my thought, fun... Yeah, fun, right, parties and rainbows for all.
7242856
Ah. Got it.
Hammerstrike is really enjoying himself with the kitsune interactions. At this rate they will have to move their civilisation to where he is, just because he will have pushed off the Windigoes so much, theyll have moved in overseas.
Lots of little suns are great for mining and refining. All that point source heat capable of melting any material object, and if something cant melt because its not under enough pressure, can just as easily turn it to a gas.
The book just keeps getting older, as Hammerstrike hasnt written it yet, maybe on the next time trip, but hopefully someone eventually takes it back, otherwise the paradox hounds will be very hungry.
Im wondering why Hammerstrike would make a crossbow made to his personal specifications. Then I realised, you never know when youll need to shoot an invading alien spacesip out of orbit without warning.
7242839 i am enjoying the scenes, i wish i hadnt read the new chapter as fadid, theres nothing more to read.
"Year 2 Week 58 Day 4"
It's been a while, are the Equestrian years longer, or are they the same as our own and this just an oversight?
7243873
Glad you brought that up. Yes, the Equestrian year is slightly longer than a standard Earth year. The time listed was intentional.
7244372
Thanks for the info
The Empire Strikes Back reference for the win!
*read through chapter *....*imagine shocked or befuddle expressions of the impossibility known as Hammer* .....*Grin mischievously*