With the silver melting, there was one last thing that needed to be done. Magnar brought from the back a beam about three staves long. Vex, Magnar and I gathered around the anvil. The two of us carefully lowered the beam onto the rounded part of the anvil.

  No sounds came out, a perfect soft landing. As we moved it, pushing it from one to another to balance it, it ground on the anvil, shaking in our hands. The anvil amplified the sound with a sharp ~iiing to end it.

  “We need the beam to be balanced, otherwise its imbalance will add weight to either side of our impromptu scale, that contaminates the weighing process.”

  “What do you plan to measure?” asked Vex. One of his brows was raised questioningly.

  “The coke dust Magnar made. I need to add about a twentieth of the silver quantity and mix.”

  “Why would you add this filthy thing to your silver? Don’t you need it to be purer? That’s what I heard you say.”

  “Why’d I explain to you important stuff?” I say while lifting a rock to add on the scale. A rock I had already balanced against the silver to ensure they were of equal weight. I placed it on the log, three fingers away from the center of the beam, and started holding the beam.

  “Because I’ll be taking care of your casting mold. I can always say that I won’t do it.” He grinned, knowing I couldn’t do anything once he played this card.

  “…” I was left speechless. ‘How can a professor be this shameless and petty with a student?’ I shook the thought. “Haaa… Silver absorbs air like a sponge once it’s molten. The silver I have is sterling silver. I need to purify it, and that means blowing air in the silver mix to get the copper in it to turn into dross.”

  “All good until now. What is the problem? Why this dust?” He continued his inquisition, while Magnar was putting the black, shimmering dust on a tray, it was so thin part of it rose in the air, glittering. Magnar’s palm turned pitch black as he handled the pestled dust.

  “This is a very pure form of fuel; it doesn’t leave behind debris. I use it to make the air caught by the silver change, so that it rises and leaves us with only pure silver. If we don’t do this… The silver will just explode as it starts cooling in the mold.”

  “That’s a thing? Wouldn’t the silver just remain porous?”

  “No. Only hot silver likes air, cold one doesn’t and as it cools and grows rigid more air gathers in bubbles that can no longer expand. In the end the entire thing bursts apart.” I finished the explanation feeling bitter. ‘Why couldn’t it be a decent person that was helping? I wouldn’t mind explaining then…’

  Magnar was getting ready to place the tray holding the dust on the beam. “Wait, not that close to the center. That one needs to go further away!” Magnar pulled the tray a bit further away.

  “No, further out… Just come here and hold this end… I’ll measure with my hands.”

  “Fine!” Magnar snapped, then bitterly added, looking downcast. “It would be easier if you just explained to the end what you want.”

  “I’m sorry, Magnar. But you know who’s here and how I feel about him… I’ll try to be clearer. You see these two need to have a lever length difference. The coke dust one must be 20 times longer. I measured this side with my fingers, so if we don’t want any big differences, it’s best if I do the measurement.”

  He came and held the end of the beam still. I measured sixty fingers in distance and placed the tray there. Afterwards I added coke dust until the beam stood balanced. I nodded pleased. This was the quantity needed.

  Meanwhile the silver slowly liquified in the crucible. With the dust measured we had to start blowing air into the silver. I took off the lid of the crucible while Magnar brought the bellows.

  “Now comes the difficult part. Magnar be very careful there as the hot air or sparks floating up may light up the bellows.”

  “I’ll pay attention.” He answered frowning. He raised the bellows and placed the wind chute on the lid of the crucible pointing downward.

  “Move the tip a little, towards the side, so the air forms a circular flow. It will help stir the metal a little too.” I continued giving directions. I looked at Vex. “Can you make the slag float out?”

  “No. Magic never worked well at high temperatures. Except fire attribute of course, that works in most temperatures, ask a fire mage instead... My attribute doesn’t work on liquids” He answered giving me a mean look.

  “What? It’s not like I’m a Manifestation stage, I wouldn’t know. Just try it, to exhaust options”

  “Useless, but if you insist…” He raised his hand. The usual purple cloud extended, flickering like stardust, signature of condensed aether. As the cloud moved to sink in the crucible, I saw how the glow thinned, spreading outwards.

  The little condensed motes of aether popped like popcorn with flashes of light that thickened the cloudy zone, just for it to thin out again later, its cohesion failing. I scratched my head. It seems aether was affected by entropy. A problem that was actually big for me.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  I needed the slag out, but I forgot to plan anything for it. Using iron could work, but it risked contaminating the silver, something I could not afford. Wrapping iron in refractory clay was an option, but it would take too long, and we didn’t have enough fuel prepared to maintain the silver in liquid state.

  Out of options I could only try something else myself. Instead of using aether like a spell I gathered it and concentrated it into a dense flow, a small construct. I lowered it in the crucible and peeled some of the crusty greenish-black skin made of slag, revealing the silvery mirror radiating heat below.

  As my construct moved, I felt the resistance to the aether flow. It was like moving a spoon through honey, only all aether that escaped my control was scattering everywhere. I took the construct out of the crucible, a thick aetheric cloud surrounding the slag, like steam rising from cold water in which a hot rock was placed.

  I threw it further away on the ground and let go of the flow of aether. Silence fell. The only persistent sound was the whistle of the bellows Magnar was pumping and his strong heaves as he maintained a fast rhythm.

  “What did you do?” Vex asked, his voice a mix of curiosity, incredulity and surprise. His eyes darted between my hands and the slag smoking on the short cut weeds.

  “I forced a compact flow of aether… It’s the same technique I used for sculpting and carving some of the cinder stone blocks. Wasn’t expecting to succeed.”

  “But that makes no sense!” Vex shouted frustrated.

  ‘Perhaps it’s due to the fact that an attribute works by transmitting frequency through aether… The cloud effect is merely due to the aether expelled to create a better medium of transmission?’ I was quickly theorizing and looking for explanations myself. I felt jubilant, my hands trembling a little with excitement. Knowing the laws by which magic works could only lead me to triumph over my enemies!

  Vex was not a nice guy, he can find his own explanation, I told him enough.

  I reformed the construct, this time focused on taking out all the copper slag. As the construct moved and threw the slag away, I had to stand close to the furnace and crucible. I was no caster type; I couldn’t stand at a cozy distance like Vex.

  The heavy focus required by the construct didn’t allow me to shield myself from the heat, which left me sweating. The resistance of the silver dropped slightly as it absorbed air, which eased my burden and the sense of pressure I felt on my brain. It felt like a heavy object pressing down on my frontal lobes, buzzing in a numbing way at the same time.

  After no more slag came out and only the glowing silvery surface of the silver remained, I backed away rapidly, breathing raggedly.

  “Magnar, you can stop pumping air, throw in the coke. Place the lid back on and use the tongs to spin the crucible after you finish. Change the direction of the spin every few seconds, then blow some air in the fire. We need the silver to grow thinner for the casting.” I said feeling my throat dry. “I’ll be right back.”

  I went to the other side of the tower and got some water to drink. I pulled decisively on the rope and let the shower start. The drops of water, cold and light, fell over me in a drizzle. I welcomed them with open arms. Their quiet plops on my skin reinvigorated me, taking away the heat, but drenched my clothes too.

  I returned to the small furnace, seeing Magnar slap the handles of the tongs, making them spin around. A metal clamp was keeping them tight on the crucible. Seeing his serious expression as he was doing something that looked like a child’s play made me smile. I heard the small plops of the carbon dioxide rising from the silver, a sound similar to boiling, but deeper.

  Vex was still trying to make the slag listen to his command with aether, with limited success caused by the cooling metal more than his own ingenuity. I waited for the sound of plopping to stop, then took more coke dust, I signaled Magnar to stop. I lifted the lid of the crucible and let the thin smoke rise. That was carbon dioxide, heated and concentrated.

  I took a look at the silver, then quickly sprinkled the coke dust over, forming a protective film, preventing air from getting absorbed back in the silver. I placed the lid back.

  “Start pumping air in the fire.” I told Magnar. He nodded and grabbed the bellows.

  With rapid motions he started to pump. The whistle was sharper, of a higher pitch this time, as he pumped with more force. I took a block of cinder stone and hollowed it.

  “Vex, stop wasting time! We need the mold now!” I shouted to cover the whistle.

  He gave me a discontent look. ‘Is it my fault he forgot the basics and that caster mages don’t use pure aether?’ I shook my head and ignored his displeasure. He formed the mold, sand rustling, as it rubbed against itself in a fast flow, before settling in the shape of the cavity in the cinder stone block, with several holes visible at the top.

  Lines were also visible on the upper side too; there we had to spread the silver to get the nails. I probed the crucible to get a reading of its temperature. It was at about fourteen hundred degrees, although I wasn’t sure, this much was already about three hundred degrees above silver’s melting point.

  “Magnar, lift the crucible and pour it in the mold, I’ll take care of spreading it evenly.” I shouted.

  “On it.” He said dropping the bellows. I backed a little as he used the tongs to lift the lid then the crucible out of the furnace. He spun around, keeping the crucible away from his body and started pouring, twisting his hands.

  The flow of molten silver illuminated us all, casting long shadows despite the light of the day. The moment the silver fell in the mold, aether started to dissipate in a purplish cloud, thinning rapidly. Vex tensed up as the intensity of the glow coming from him grew.

  I waited until all the silver was poured then formed a construct to help the silver flow and fill all cavities and gain the shape we desired. After about ten minutes I spoke up.

  “You can stop holding the sand.” I told Vex. “Now we wait for it to cool.”

  Vex, was trembling all over, with sweat falling off his forehead. “That was a lot hotter than I expected…”

  “Yes, but it was the only way to get this over with fast. Otherwise, it would have taken longer to pour, and I might not have managed to make it spread as we planned.”

  “Whatever, I’ll just skin you well later…” He waved his hand dismissingly at me.

  ‘Damn miser!’ I thought clenching my teeth. Vex’s grumbling stopped bothering me as he left, headed for the back of the tower where Hargrave was. I sat on the edge of the terrace, the wet fabric of my tunic cooling in the breeze. The roar of the furnace was gone, replaced by the soft hiss of the dying embers.

  Now, all I could do was wait for the thermal equilibrium to do its job. If my estimations were right, I’d finally have the parts I needed. I closed my eyes, letting the phantom pressure on my brain fade into the quiet of the evening.

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