Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 4, Ch. 6]

On the bench were the three pieces of Ironwood I'd put my Runes on. They were arranged left to right with Runes of Agility, Frost and Strength respectively. Two of them hadn't shown any change overnight, but the one on the left, closest to my forge, had grown a branch and what looked to be two leaves. One a large and normal leaf, the other a small one poking out of a bud.

"You told me Ironwood doesn't grow," I said.

"It doesn't!" Penny was hopping up and down. "It has never grown. And even when father creates it, it's never created with branches or leaves. It's just solid objects made of the trunk. It only has branches if he makes it have branches, and they're sculpted by him. They're not natural."

This looked different. It looked like an actual offshoot a plant or tree might grow, except much faster. Saplings took months to grow branches like this, let alone leaves, and they had to be living trees planted in soil. These were chunks of Ironwood sat on my bench.

Curiously, I ran a finger over the underside of the branch. It was metal still, but it was thin and bendy – not due to any weakness in the metal itself, but just how thin it was. Trailing further, I gently touched the full leaf.

It was thin. Very thin. It was also metal still, shaped perfectly like a leaf and even with the little veins on them and the stem in the centre. Despite that, it crinkled and curled over my finger like an actual leaf might, and I was sure I could have tugged it off if I wanted to.

[...]

"I don't know if I dare put a Rune on your core, Penny. I'm not sure what would happen if your Ironwood grew inside you."

[...]

Preparing myself as best I could, I reached in and laid my hand upon it once more.

The onslaught of what I tentatively called `feelings` was easier to put up with this time, maybe because I expected it and wasn't blown off my feet. There was a rush still, but it was muted and quiet. A distant hum. I could work with and ignore it.

[...]

That took some of my fear away at least. Nodding to show I was ready, I closed my eyes and concentrated on the Rune of Agility. I'd need to engrave it onto the metal, which meant I needed to apply a little heat to my hand to do so. That was what Engraving really was, even if it was a Skill. Forming the image of the Rune in my head, I pushed it onto the Ironwood.

It was like an explosion going off in my skull.

Life. Growth. Joy. Direction. Life. Give. More. Life. Give. Hunger. Give!

"Agh!" I recoiled, dragging my hand out of Penny's chest. As I did, I broke several thin branches that had begun to form around my arm, ensnaring me. Leaves exploded from her, showering me and the floor, falling to the ground with quiet, metallic tinkles.

"Friend Jaune!" Penny rushed to help me.

"S-Stop!" I cried, crawling back. "Don't touch me."

Penny froze, worried.

"It's not you," I wheezed. "M-More… worried about what it will do." I swallowed, finding the strength to drag myself up again by my anvil. "That… It must be something to do with the Rune. It grew inside you. I… There's a branch sticking out your shoulder!"

"Hm?" Penny looked down, seeing the sharp and somewhat jagged piece of metal piercing her body. "Oh. There is. That's interesting." She touched it with one hand, bending it slightly. "I don't feel all that different. My Stats are already quite high, though. Maybe it as you say, and I do not notice the added Agility because it is a small increase for me."

Penny had Stats. Penny wasn't technically alive and yet had Stats. I'd never really considered that before, but it coincided a little with what I'd thought of the Ironwood. One thing was for sure, it had grown around my hand.

It wanted me. Wanted me to give it something…

"Go talk to the Archmage. I'll start forging my weapons as usual."

And gather my thoughts, I didn't add. I had to admit to some relief when Penny left, taking both pieces of growing Ironwood with her and still somehow oblivious to the leaves sprouting slowly on the branch poking out of her shoulder.

[...]

"It's… well, sir. I really think you should look at your leg."

My leg? I stopped what I was doing and blinked the mental fatigue away. As always, I'd lost myself in my work, entering some kind of near trancelike state of constant labour that shut me off to much of the outside world. Not entirely, of course. It just kept me working, but I could still hear when someone, the delivery boy in this case, spoke to me. It just took a few times for something to catch my attention.

That was the only explanation I had for why, when I looked down, I nearly screamed.

The Ironwood had my leg.

As in, it had it.

The trunks on the bench had somehow grown more branches and offshoots without me noticing. Those had crawled along the wooden bench like clinging vines, some working over it but some, to my horror, piercing through the wood and continuing on the underside of the bench. It had then worked its way down the table leg to the floor and along it, finding my foot.

At that moment, it had coiled around my foot and ankle, reaching up my boot. It hadn't actually got to my leg yet, but it was close, branches coiling around me like a snake.

"Holy…"

"I didn't want to disturb you, but that doesn't look normal…"

"It's not." I swallowed. "Thank you." I tugged my foot away, but the Ironwood held tight. The branches themselves still seemed thin, but there were so many more of them. I had the disturbing image of it reaching higher, finding skin, and then burrowing into my body like it had the bench. At least I'd have noticed that. My thick boots, leather and steel-toed, hadn't let me feel this thing wrapping around me.

I tried again to pull my foot away but couldn't. Sighing, I reached down with one hand, activating Stoke the Forge to try and melt some of it away.

The second my fingers touched it, the shoots moved, growing at an insane rate and shooting up my fingers to my hand.

I cut my Skill off a second later – not a second too soon. The explosive growth had just begun to curl inward, like it was trying to enclose around my wrist and hold me there. I was only just able to pull my hand free, snapping a few weak and thin threads as I did.

[...]

There were a few strands that had reached for and woven around the furnace too. I used a pair of tongs to poke at those from a distance, then pry them off once I was happy they weren't about to move. The Ironwood only seemed to have such a pronounced effect when it was me that touched it. It took a little work, but I was able to forcefully bend some of the branches back and free the forge. I then moved carefully to the table and gripped a section with some wood left on it, dragging it out of the forge.

The whole table had been engulfed in metallic branches, vines and leaves. If the offshoots scraping on the floor could be cut off, a part of me thought it might make some decorative piece in a Noble's home. It was esoteric enough for that kind of thing, and kind of pretty in a `filigree metal` kind of way. An actual metalworker would have been proud to make something that looked so lifelike.

—Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 4]



Here goes nothing, I thought, eyes flashing blue as I held the ironwood in both hands and Stoked the Forge.

The metal rippled.

That was the best way to describe it. As though the surface had turned to liquid for a brief moment, except that it remained solid between my hands. The surface rippled and wriggled as though it were alive, as though it were excited.

I held it a little further out, expecting branches to explode forth.

They didn't. The Ironwood was for once well-behaved.

Rather than the explosion of emotions and sensations from it, I received only one thing – satisfaction. Or maybe relief. A calm born of being content and wanting nothing more. As the porous nature of the metal brought my heat through every bit of it, the Ironwood burned hot and turned orange-red in my hands, yet never once tried to reach out for me.

"Is that it?" Weiss asked. "After all that warning, I expected something more…"

Me too. Why is it acting like this? It's not doing anything. Is it a defective piece?

I didn't think so. I could still feel the humming within it, and the heat from my hands was being drawn through it so easily – like water running down the most perfect canal without splashing on the banks. I felt like I could use less heat to achieve the results I wanted because none of it was wasted in any way. It felt so efficient, so easy.

Eager. It felt eager, like the Ironwood was helping me.

"Uh-oh." Blake said.

My shoulders tensed. I looked down but the Ironwood in my hands was still on its best behaviour. A chair beside me scraped back and Weiss suddenly cursed, pushing to her feet. "What is it?" I asked, not wanting to take my eyes off my work.

"Someone's jealous," Blake said, amusement tinged with disbelief.

Unable to help myself, I turned to look. The other piece of Ironwood still on the bench was trying to reach me again. I could see the branches growing in real time. Not fast by any means but creeping along the floor like a metallic snake.

"That's insane," Weiss whispered. "I've never seen anything like it." She dodged out the way of the tendril and relaxed when it made no move for her, instead continuing toward its target. "Blake, help me grab the table. I don't feel it's safe to touch the Ironwood in this state."

"On it."

Blake and Weiss moved around to grip the table legs on the other side of it and pull. The heavy wooden surface scraped along the gravel and sand floor, taking the Ironwood with it. I had the strangest sense of its sorrow as it was moved away, and once it was outside the forge, the branch stopped growing entirely. It no longer moved and had become an empty piece of metal once more.

"I see what you mean about molestation," Blake said as she came back. "That was a little creepy."

"Creepy? It was magical!" Weiss said.

"Creepy magical."

"Okay, I'll allow that, but it was still incredible. It was moving on its own, moving toward a target. The only one who can make it do anything is the Archmage; to see Jaune moving it is… I won't say it's impossible because there it is. But it's unheard of. It's improbable. Only Mages can interact with it, or so I've heard."

—Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 6]