Irwin's Journey 256: Temper (Patreon)

When the first day of the second eight-day at the Golden Friction Academy arrived, Irwin was leaning against a wall. A few steps away was the closed door of the card reforging course. Pasilha and Roubi stood nearby. Eyes closed and face sunken. There had been two parties the day before, the last ending only hours ago, and they attended both.

I wonder why they go to parties so much, Irwin thought.

He'd left early during the first one when the two Ingitzions, drunk, had come on a bit stronger. He glanced at them, catching Pasilha's looking back.

She grimaced, then forced a smile on her face as she scooted closer.

"I'm really sorry about yesterday evening," she said. 

Irwin nodded. He'd wanted to talk with them about it, and now was as good a time as any. 

"It's okay. Listen, I've already got someone I like. I probably should have told you, but I had kind of expected you to..."

He held back from saying that he'd expected them to take the hint and leave him alone.

Pasilha nodded, looking at her feet. "Yeah, Skylar told us. But… when we get a bit drunk, it's sometimes hard to keep a hold of ourselves. Is it true that she's an Ignitzion?"

Irwin nodded. "Yes. She had to leave because of the cold world I had to go to, and I'm hoping to head to Igniz."

He left out that they also had children, as that was something the Ignitzions though about way differently than humans did.

Roubi had moved closer, looking at him with hollowed eyes in a weary face.

"She's lucky," she muttered. "Why don't I ever find a smith that's tall, fiery, and metallic?"

Irwin grinned at her fake self-pity. "I'm sure there's some Loydin around somewhere?"

Roubi snorted, rolling her eyes. "Bah, you know those battle-hungry brutes want nothing to do with us. No, I guess I'll just have to keep searching… Unless you have a brother that looks like you?"

Irwin barked a laugh as he imagined Bronwyn fending off the two Ignitzions.

"No, I have a brother, but he has a bonded mate and a child…" he stopped as he cocked his head. "Well, perhaps more than one by now."

"The good ones are always taken," Roubi grunted as she closed her eyes and rubbed her head.

Pasilha smiled and looked at Irwin. "I'm sorry. I should have asked if you were even interested."

"And I should have just said I wasn't right away," Irwin said. "It wasn't like you weren't obvious."

Pasilha flinched.

"Uh, I didn't mean it like that," Irwin said quickly, but she already waved it away.

"It's alright. We will just swoon over you when you aren't watching."

Now it was Irwin's turn to grimace, causing Pasilha to laugh. Then she groaned, rubbing her head.

Irwin was about to comment on her drinking habits when a quickly loudening disagreement made him look up. A group of unfamiliar second-year students had gathered before the door, standing in a small circle.

"I'm telling you, Vera was called away for a few days. That's why there was no course on seven-day! We should just head back!"

"Sure, you always say these things, but where's the proof?"

"Bah, if you don't believe me, just ask her?"

"You ask her! Are you crazy, you-"

Two large men were squaring off, eyes gleaming as they seemed ready to butt heads when the door was pulled open. 

"What are you punks doing out here?" Vera snapped, eyes gleaming. "Get inside!"

Everyone darted past her, and she shook her head, grinning at them before focusing on Irwin.

"Right, Irwin! I'm sorry I haven't gotten to your promised private lesson yet, but things have gotten away from me for a few days. I hope you have nothing after this course."

Irwin shook his head, wondering what a private lesson would even entail. 

The rest of the day went surprisingly easy. All they had to do was reforge four cards in the allotted time, all up to Topaz and as far sideways as possible without shattering it. They were allowed help from their Ganvils this time, and Ambraz and Irwin were in the top three.

'The competition here isn't as high as I had expected,' Ambraz snorted as they waited for Vera to finish pointing out the flaws of the others. 'I'll have to talk with Brazardian later. From what I heard about the two largest Smiths Guild academies, this is the level they reach within a half year of attending. It is not done for Granvox to be this far behind.'

"Alright," Vera said as she walked towards Irwin.

Behind her, the final students left the smithy. 

"Now, let's start with what you did today."

She pointed at the cards Irwin had lying on Ambraz. 

"All of them are good, smooth, well made, and also with very little risk. Now, I know it's hard for you to see, so let's make things a bit clearer."

She waved her hand, and four diagrams the size of book covers hung side-by-side above Ambraz.

Irwin's eyebrows shot up as he focused on the lines and shapes that followed an orderly image. They faintly reminded him of the runes he'd seen, but they were very different—in terms of their lines, thickness, shades of gray, and the final image they presented.

"So, this here is nearly perfect," Vera said, pointing at a section of smooth lines with a finger-width of space around them. "However, if you had gone with something like this-" 

She drew with the tip of her finger, tracing a ruddy line across the diagram as if she were using a pencil. She quickly created an alternative route, slightly more chaotic, but as Irwin inspected it, he agreed that it made the entire thing look more… balanced and powerful.

"This card is already a hundred percent, but that doesn't mean it can't be better. The version you made of this scraping utensil will allow a woodcarver to create smooth surfaces and rounded angles on many types of wood. However, it won't work on anything stronger than normal wood. If you had done this, creating the same smoothness would have required more skill from the crafter, but the scraping utensil would have been able to work on much tougher and denser wood with far less effort." 

Irwin nodded as he wondered what change would have been required in the card's song. 

"Now, although I don't have a lot of skill in the musical specialization of crafting, I do know that it usually pays to have more explosive, aggressive songs. For most people, skill is easier to gain than more power. 

That sounds wrong, Irwin thought.

Vera must have seen his doubt as she laughed and continued.

"I know that feels counterintuitive to you, but imagine having a quartz or amethyst heartcard and knowing you will need a decade or more to get your, perhaps only, soulcard ever. Most people choose their cards based on things they need for their profession and livelihood, which means they will be far less powerful than you. However, they will practice their crafts for a long time. With time, their skill will increase."

Irwin hummed. "But that counts for those people. Most people that will hire us will have enough soulshards and power to have high rank, powerful cards."

"That's true, and in those cases, it's best to make what they require," Vera said, her grin turning wider. "However, they usually want either more efficient soulforce usage, ease of merging with existing cards, or a focus on some other aspect. The chances of creating a card along its easiest line, even if you are forcing it already, are slim to none."

Irwin could see where she was coming from, especially as he thought about the cards he wanted to make for himself and his friends.

"Alright, so what are we going to do now?" he asked, curious.

"Simple, I am going to have you work at the edge of what you can until you shatter four cards in a row. That will give me a benchmark, and I'll explain what you did wrong," Vera said, grabbing a card and tossing it to him.

"Start with this. Go as high as you can, but keep the percentage. No sideways reforging that will come after."

Irwin took the card, feeling his excitement grow. It had been a while since he'd gone all out!

I wonder how high I can go now, he thought.

--

Irwin sat at the table, his soulcard and energy reserves almost empty, even after he had rested for a while. Reforging on the edge of his ability for that long had left him close to fainting.

Still, it had been worth it.

He gazed at the cards on the table. Four ruby rank cards, a few steps from the absolute max, all barely over eighty percent and dangerous to socket, yet all made by him.

"If you had managed just a bit more, you would have been able to do it without help," Ambraz said happily. "You really got a lot better with these new cards."

"Yes, but if I'd wanted to reforge one sideways, it would blow it up," Irwin said, trying to stifle his own excitement.

"So? Kid! You're growing at a speed similar to the best of this academy, and that's without focusing just on smithing! That said, you should take it easy for a bit. Your soulforce will take a bit to return, and your soulcard was pushed very hard."

"I will," Irwin said as he focused on the cards on the other side of the table. They were the ones Ambraz had arranged for them, and he had a slight hope that one of them would become his third card.

"So, what do we do with these? Start tomorrow?"

"Yes, but don't get your hopes up," Ambraz said with a snort. "Even if you successfully reforge one to your specifications, without the growth type on at least one, I'd advise against slotting them just yet."

"Alright," Irwin said as he glanced at the cards, then pulled them close to sort them. 

I can't wait to get started!

--

"Alright, is everyone ready?" Bronwyn asked as he looked around his rangers. 

There were seven of them, all with at least one topaz-ranked card that dealt with stealth and hidden movement—well, all but Jort. The heartcarded ranger's card allowed him only a few things, but Bronwyn knew he compensated for the lack of a stealth card with his skill and experience. Besides, being able to hear and smell better then the others would allow him to stop moving much faster.

There was a round of nods, and Bronwyn took a deep breath as he looked at Clarish. 

"I know you want to go with them, but you need to leave," she said. Daubutim was clear: you are too important, and although they seem friendly, it's too dangerous.

"Fine," Bronwyn grumbled. He turned to Jort. "You are a hundred percent sure of this?"

"Yes, Lord Bronwyn," Jort said with a curt nod. "I'm sure of what I saw. There was a human-like being with those birds."

Bronwyn grunted, wishing he didn't have to send someone into the northern forests.

"Alright, be careful. We probably won't be able to help…"

The older ranger nodded, his lips curled up. "Those birds didn't do anything during the months we were observing them, not even those massive ones."

Bronwyn nodded again, then turned to Clarish.

"Fine, get us back to the others."

Jort watched as his new Lord vanished, then turned to the others.

"Make sure you don't do anything aggressive and follow me," he said.

The small squadron of rangers nodded and spread out, moving into the thick undergrowth around him. Although they were hiding to the best of their abilities, Jort could still pick out a few of them moving around.

Well, let's see if these old eyes weren't deceiving me, he thought as he walked forward into the beautiful but dark woods that made up the northwestern part of the island. 

He had been observing the green birds ever since he'd finished following the large island's coastline. They had never shown any sign of malice or aggression, seeming to eat small insects and fruit—well, the small ones at least. The few massive ones that he had spotted flying high in the clouds had snatched up the occasional Bullfrog and were even spotted pulling people-sized fish from the water. 

Then, a week ago, while standing on the watchtower bordering the woods, he'd seen her. A green-skinned woman with vine-like hair and a bird on her shoulder had been staring at him from within the woods. His first reaction had been to shout, but he'd managed to stifle it, and they had gazed at each other for a good ten minutes before she just… vanished.

Nobody else had seen her, but when he alerted Lord Daubutim and the others, they hadn't doubted him, or at least hadn't said they did. Instead, they had sent more rangers to help. It was something that made him feel a slight warmth even now, days later. How much had changed: from a lowly ranger, close to retirement, to one of the first heartcarded on Giard, to the Scout Leader of the rangers. 

It was one of the reasons he was now here. He had seen her, and Lord Daubutim had said that with so many people on the tower that hadn't seen her, there might be a reason for that oddity. Either because he was the only heartcarded at the tower or because of his heightened senses. 

Then, yesterday, she appeared again, staring at him before vanishing after another short time staring at him. Daubutim had immediately decided that it was time to check.

A soft sound that even Jort almost missed caused him to stop and look around. His entire focus returned to the here and now as he looked straight up. 

Dozens of the green birds sat there, staring down at him with their black beady eyes. 

"Hi," he said softly. "I'm here to talk…?"

One of the birds let out a soft cry, almost like laughter. It pushed off and dropped down, looking straight at him. 

"Don't act," Jort ordered the rangers, remaining perfectly still as the bird landed on his shoulder.

It was surprisingly heavy, and as the strong talons closed around his shoulder, he felt the tips pierce through his leather jerkin, his shirt, and into his skin, drawing blood.

'Walk forward- they are waiting!'

Jort jolted, causing the bird's talons to dig deeper into his flesh to prevent itself from falling off.

"Was… was that you?" Jort asked, swallowing.

'Yes. Now, walk. They don't like to wait.'

Jort nodded as he continued ahead. He heard the other rangers move around softly.

'Tell the others to hold at the stream.'

Jort looked at the bird, wondering if he should act as if he didn't know what it was talking about. Then he sighed. There was no way that would work or help.

"Don't cross the stream. I'll be back as soon as I can," he said.

A minute later, he reached a small creek, barely two feet wide. Wondering what would happen, he jumped across, hearing the others remain behind.

He had expected to have to walk for a long while, perhaps all the way to the distant portal, but barely five minutes later, he heard something ahead. 

A few steps later, he walked out into a small clearing and froze.

In the center stood a massive bird, wings close to its body, its head lowered, and its head-sized eyes staring unblinkingly at him. Beside it stood a willowy woman with leaf-covered vines wrapped around her body and more hanging down from her head like thickly woven hair. Her face was beautiful in an odd, inhuman way, and her brown eyes twinkled. Faint lines of empty card slots were visible on her hand- odd, as those should be invisible unless recently used.

'Walk closer so she can touch you,' the voice in his mind said.

Jort walked forward slowly, eying the bird's talons. They were massive, digging deep into the ground below. Was it her guard?

A few steps from the women, the giant bird's head lowered, and the threat in its eyes was enough to make Jort stop in its tracks. A soft rustle made him look up to see one of the vines from the woman's arm unwrap and slowly hover towards him. It stopped within arms reach of him, and the woman gestured at it, smiling.

Well, let's see what this does, Jort thought. 

He gently wrapped his gnarly old fingers around the vine, and instantly, he felt something tug on his heartcard. For one heart-beat-skipping moment, he feared he'd made a horrible mistake. Then a sense of warmth and curiosity filled his mind.

'Hello, combined-one! I am Lashara, rider of Zegritar.'

Combined one? Jort guessed she meant his heartcard.

"Hello, I am Jort," he said before hesitantly adding- "Scout leader of the rangers."

The woman -Lashara- frowned, and her eyes widened in confusion.

'Can you not use soulspeak?'

Jort shook his head, not sure what she meant. Was that what she was doing?

'I see. Then, please talk slower. It is hard to understand your spoken words.'

Not sure how she was talking to him if she couldn't understand his words, Jort repeated himself, slower this time.

'We are pleased to meet you,' Lashara said. 'Zegritar has observed you and your people and he was impressed with your astute observation skills. According to our information, we seem to share this new-world island, and it would be good to know more about each other. The elders have sent me here to learn your language so we can share knowledge about this new world. Could you tell us what chased your people of your world?'

Jort thought for a bit, glad Daubutim had told him this could happen and gave instructions on what to share. 

"I can, but we are also very curious about you and your people."

'Good,' Lashara said, smiling warmly. Beside her, the massive bird leaned back slightly.

Jort took a deep breath and then began sharing the things Daubutim had told him he should.

--

Irwin grunted in anger as he tossed a card at Ambraz. The Ganvil snatched it out of the air, quickly closing his lips to contain the loud explosion. 

Another failure, Irwin thought, annoyed.

Two full weeks had passed in the blink of an eye, and he'd blasted through all of the cards he had with nothing useful to show for it. Even the few extra cards they had gotten were gone.

"That was the last one," he said.

He glowered at the two cards lying on the table. The only ones that hadn't shattered had ended up completely different from what he'd wanted. One looked like a long-handled violin, the other like an odd table with snares. Both were barely over eighty percent.

Failures, just like all the others.

"I warned you," Ambraz said with a grin. 

"I know," Irwin said, taking a deep breath before exhaling explosively. "I had just thought there would at least be something useful!"

"Kid, you are working with some of the most difficult types, and you want to push them far away from their desired path," Ambraz said, changing back to his small form. "Be happy you got as far as you wanted! Besides, each time you got closer."

Irwin thought about his first attempt, and he knew Ambraz was right. He was just being impatient.

"Well, let's go and see if they got new cards then," he said, picking a shirt from the table.

Irwin was pondering about what he should try the next time as he walked through the merchant's district. It was busier than usual, and groups of people that seemed new were wandering about.

He picked up a few stray conversations, and he was surprised that nearly all of the had to do with the rumors of the war. 

Odd, how unconfirmed troubles can already cause such an uproar, he thought. 

As he reached The Greenbark Card Center, he saw a group of people inside. He pulled open the door and stepped inside, noticing how crowded the small storefront felt.

A quick look over the four people inside told me they were all smiths. With how many people were in the academy, he wasn't surprised that he'd never seen them before. What was curious was that none of them had a Ganvil with them.

Three of them, two women and one man, were quietly waiting to the side. They looked at him as he entered while the fourth was talking with Ester, the proprietor. He saw Amethyst ranking plates on their wrists, gleaming as if new or recently polished.

Ester glanced at him quickly before focusing on the man again. Although her face was placid and calm, Irwin could see a barely hidden annoyance in her eyes. The man had a Topaz rank plate on a thick bracelet.

"-from the Smith's guild," the burly man said, annoyed. "I can sense you have more cards, so let me ask you again- why will you not show them to me?"

He can sense them? Irwint thought, marginally impressed. He focused on his hearing, and he quickly picked up the soft chimes of a few dozen cards in the shop, some in the man's pocket, most behind Ester's desk.

"There is no use showing you these. They are commissions from other customers and have already been paid for," Ester said calmly. As she did, her gaze flicked to Irwin.

"So?" the man said. "We can pay more!"

A soft sight came from one of the other three smiths, and Irwin saw a young smith look at another, mouthing not again. Her blue eyes radiated with a blue, icy light.

"Besides," the smith continued angrily. "What use is it to sell cards to the half-baked smiths of this academy? Even here, the supply is running short, so cards should go to those who can use them best!"

Right, Irwin thought, pretty sure he knew what that meant. For a moment, he hesitated. Perhaps he should just wait until they left. Then he saw Ester's annoyance. 

He ignored a surprised whisper from the three Guild Smiths as he walked past them and moved to stand beside the Topaz rank smith.

"Hi, Ester! I'm here for the rest of my cards," he said.

"Smith Irwin," she said with a smile. "A slightly larger batch came in yesterday. You are just in time."

Irwin smiled back, the prospect of more attempts almost enough to make him forget about the annoyed-looking smith. Ester took a small wrapped-up package from below the counter. 

The Topaz rank smith turned and glared at Irwin. "What's the meaning of this? Can't you see I was here first?"

Irwin raised an eyebrow. "I think she just told you there are no more cards here for you?"

"There are cards here," the man said, pointing at the cards Ester was holding without even looking at her.

Irwin saw the smith's gaze crawl across him, probably searching for the smithing rank plate. When he found none, he snorted in disdain.

"What use does someone that's not even a quartz rank have for those cards? This is ridiculous!"

"Who are you calling a quartz rank, you punk?" Ambraz snapped from Irwin's shoulder. "Just because the Smiths Guild is here, hiding, doesn't mean you get to try and bully people!"

The smith's eyes widened, his head turning red.

"Senior Donreld, perhaps it's best if we just head back?" the young, blue-eyed smith whispered. "The teacher said we shouldn't be causing any trouble, remember?"

The topaz smith glared at the other smith, how cringed. 

"Don't bud in, low-rank!" he snapped before turning to Irwin. "There's some horrible organization hunting smiths, probably trying to stop us from improving and growing! Now you think you can waste a bunch of cards just because you have bound to a Ganvil?! Those are better used by real smiths!" 

Irwin saw the barely contained fury in Donreld's eyes, and he crossed his arms, raising himself to his full height, preparing himself for if the other was going to act. Donreld had one soulcard, like him, but it was only at Topaz rank.

"What? Think I'm afraid of you," the smith snarled as he took a step froward, fists balled.

"ENOUGH!"

A deafening shout rattled the windows, and Irwin was almost as surprised as the others when he realized he'd been the one to shout. His anger was bubbling up. He knew that most of it came from his annoyance at failing to reforge the cards he'd wanted over the week, seemingly ignited by the man's annoying behavior. There was also something else... deeper, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Nor did he have the time for that now. Instead, he struggled to get a grip. 

His hands had curled up into fists while his soulforce seemed to be boiling, agitated by his sudden rage.

Donreld took a step back, then another. His eyes were wide, and Irwin sensed how his own soulcard's resonance was suppressing that of the smith.

"I..."

The sudden fear in the others eyes doused Irwin's sudden rage, but he didn't let it show. Instead, he pinned Donreld with a glare.

"These are my cards. I paid for them," he said as he accepted the package from Ester. "If you want your own cards, put out a commission."

Donreld's mouth opened and closed, but Irwin didn't bother waiting for him to regain himself. Instead, he nodded at a stunned-looking Ester, turned, and stomped to the door. 

The three younger smiths had been standing behind him, wide-eyed, and quickly jumped out of the way. All seemed stunned, but the blue-eyed one managed to regain herself.

"Sorry about that," she whispered.

Irwin nodded, forcing a smile on his face, before walking outside.

"Hah, good job," Ambraz cackled. "That brat needed someone to put him in his place! It would have been more fun to just do a reforging competition, but this was nearly as good!"

Irwin snorted, then laughed.

"I think I need to take a break for a bit," he said. 

"What? You think?" Ambraz said sarcastically. "You've been working non-stop for three weeks, barely sleeping because you keep practicing on that piano! Why don't you go and see what Skylar is doing? Unwind a bit!"

"Good idea," Irwin said, pocketing the cards and walking into the city.