Or at least repairing the ones he had.
[Focus as I guide you,] Dross said arrogantly. [I will not steer you wrong.]
Lindon didn’t fully trust Dross’ new personality, but he certainly had Ozriel’s dream tablets. He focused on the power on the altar, letting Dross feed the memories of other Soulsmiths into the back of his mind.
Lindon imagined a hammer in his mind. Not its form, but its purpose. He needed a tool to deliver his will, to shape the material in front of him. One that wouldn’t lose out to Reigan Shen’s weapons, and wouldn’t deform in his hands.
His will started unopposed…then he felt stiff opposition, like he had suddenly tried to lift a heavy weight.
The flames surrounding the broken hammers turned blue, and the material began to rise slowly into the air.
Lindon fixed his concentration, pushing his willpower into the project as he had when he’d torn open space. He could feel the broken hammers; they had once been used to craft masterpieces. He treated that as though it were a new aspect of madra, weaving it into his ultimate design.
The blue light started to congeal into the vague outline of a hammer.
This wasn’t enough, and Lindon felt instinctively what he had to do next. Part of that was the intuition he’d inherited from the memories of other Soulsmiths, but part was his own experience.
He needed to invest power of his own into this project. Lindon poured pure madra into the hammer, visualizing as he did the purpose of pure madra in Soulsmithing: its universal compatibility and its ability to purify.
But before the hammer congealed around the pure madra, he stopped. And he switched his cores.
He wanted this hammer to represent his power at its most complete state, so he poured Blackflame into the hammer. Blackflame added deadly force and destructive intention to weapons, and it too could be used to burn away materials and impurities.
When he had added an equal amount of Blackflame, he stopped pouring in madra and began using his will to guide the forces together. He intended to blend them, but Dross stopped him.
[Stop, you fool! Can’t you see they’ve achieved a balance already?]
At the heart of the blue outline that only vaguely resembled a hammer, two powers swirled: one bright and blue-white, and another darkness outlined in red. They swam around one another like twin fish, and they did indeed feel perfectly in balance.
That was where Lindon’s experience failed him. His will trembled as he held the hammer half-manifested.
What do I do now? Lindon asked. He vaguely assumed it had something to do with soulfire.
Just when he was prepared to brute force it, Eithan leaned forward. “Now, bring it forth. It isn’t real enough yet, like a Jade Remnant that has just manifested. Pull it out until it becomes reality.”
Lindon’s voice was strained with the effort of keeping the hammer half-existing. “What about soulfire?”
“What do you think that is?” Eithan pointed down to the blue flame in the center of the altar.
Aside from the fact that they were both in the form of fire, the flame in this altar had very little resemblance to soulfire. Especially since Archlord soulfire was its highest level, and that looked like quicksilver. Even Ghostwater had been formed with Archlord soulfire, not this…blue kind.
But Lindon’s will was at its limit, so he couldn’t wait to debate. He pushed one more time, shoving the hammer into reality.
As he did, he had one strange thought: he was pulling something into existence, and out of nothingness. That resonated with the Void Icon, but he wasn’t sure exactly how yet. It was worth examining later.
He got a brief glimpse of a black hammer with a double-sided head: one side blue and one red. Then the azure soulfire consumed it, hiding it for a moment.
When the flame passed, he could see his hammer.
Just sitting on the dark metal of the altar, it emanated a heavy pressure. Its will thrummed against his own, and he could feel its desire to create hanging in the air like a musical note.
It was made of a black metal he couldn’t quite identify, but that he recognized from the heads of the hammers he’d used to make it. The handle was rough enough that his hand wouldn’t slip, and the two halves of the head were very different.
The Blackflame half shone red and gave off a sharp, even savage impression. The pure half was smooth with round edges, and it emanated a soothing air. But when he picked it up, the weight was perfectly balanced. Red and blue lines trailed in the air behind it as he turned to show it to everyone.
“That was…strange,” Lindon said. It had felt as much like difficult manual labor as an effort of creation. Without Dross guiding him, he would have needed to fail many times to create such a product, and without the Soulforge the result would have been much lower.