Chapter 23

I casually strode through the entrance of Whiterun.

It was about midday, the sun was high in the air and the temperature was actually very comfortable. I had flown all the way down from Winterhold, something I was a bit hesitant to due because of the 'laws' surrounding flight. For some reason they outlawed flight-based magics pretty much over the entire empire, yet allowed various forms of teleportation. Bugger if I know why, I just didn't want someone to spot me and get in trouble just because I was being impatient.

And that wasn't even considering my wings, it was usually just a good idea to not do it unless an emergency. Well, I saw Ancano skulking around and decided to head off that little annoyance and just sneak out and fly away from the college without any notice. I did land a bit away from the city and walked the little distance in-between.

It was a nice little trip, minus the giant fucking rat that tried to attack me. Creepy little bugger got blown the fuck up, but otherwise it was relaxing.

I waved to the guards who gave me a nod. I don't know if it was the same ones, but they seemed friendly enough. Maybe it was and they noticed my clothing? I guess I'm rather memorable when most people wear robes and animal skins.

What a lovely day it was, I was in a great mood! I had a wonderful woman that returned my affections, I was going to see a friend I hadn't seen in a few days, and I was finally going to get my mystic code made.

I put a few coins on a stall with some fresh produce up for sale, grabbing a couple apples with a wink towards the woman running it.

Skyrim apples are really good, they tasted like a honeycrisps, if slightly sweeter. I wonder if I could grow some at home? Maybe open the market for a new kind of apple, build an apple empire, become the tyrant of produce!

Eh, that sounds like too much work. Though I wouldn't mind a tree or two for my own enjoyment. These would probably be even better if they were chilled, cold fruit is the way to go.

I walked up to the….what was it called again, Jorrvaskr, the Companions building.

The boat building.

"Thorum, think fast" I shouted, as I opened the door spotting my friend, and tossing him an apple.

He was sitting at a table, holding what looked like some ice to his head. He barely even looked at he caught the apple, before taking a confused look. "Will!" He greeted me happily.

There were a few others in the building, but it seemed rather quiet overall.

"Heya." I sat down next to him. "You look….not too good?"

"Aye, took a bit of a hit on the noggin in the last mission." He flexed his hand and the ice…. disappeared.

"Thorum! Did you learn magic?" I was genuinely surprised.,

He smiled bright. "I took your advice and picked up a few books at the market."

"Well done." I was impressed. "What have you learned?" I took another bite of my apple.

"Just Frostbite and Flames." He replied. "I tried the basic healing spell, but I've been having trouble with it. I'm officially in charge of chilling all the mead now." He gave a good-natured laugh.

Well….that is a good use of magic. "Tell me, what happened to you?" I cast my own healing spell on him.

"Farengar, the Jarl's Court-Wizard, paid for the Companions to seek out a tablet from the Bleak Falls Barrow."

"Bleak Falls Barrow…..where have I heard that name before?"

"It's the ancient ruins between Whiterun and Helgen."

"Ah, I remember seeing it on a map now. Lots of Draugr I presume?"

"Aye, they were many, but the Companions couldn't be stopped by a few undead." He said with pride. "It wasn't until we met Deathlord at the end that we finally met a worthy opponent. Even in undeath, the masters of the Thu'um are not to be trifled with."

"I've run into one of those. A necromancer raised one under Meridia's statue when I took that job."

"You've fought one by yourself!?" Thorum clasped my shoulder. "My friend that was mighty dangerous of you."

"It worked out." I waved him off. "What about you?"

"The Companions fought hard, with our teamwork we managed to subdue the undead. I merely got clipped by one of its shouts." He looked a little sheepish. "But we returned with the tablet, something to do about the dragons that the Court-Wizard is using to study."

"How was the loot, both times I've delved into an old tomb or temple I've gotten a lot of good stuff."

"A few enchanted weapons and some treasure. Should last the Companions several months if rationed well." He brushed off his apple before taking a bite. "What brings you around Whiterun again, my friend."

"I finally got all the stuff to make my magical foci, I just need a good smith to help me forge it."

"Eorlund Gray-Mane is at the forge right now, and I think you're in luck, he doesn't have any large commissions."

I stood up from my seat quickly. "As always Thorum, you are the best." I pat him on the shoulder as I head out the back doors towards the forge.

***

"Waddya want, boy?" The old smith looked at me as I walked up the steps towards the supposed 'sky forge'.

I've only heard a few things about this forge, supposed to make really good steel weapons, good enough that they have their own name to differentiate them. As one would assume 'skyforge steel'

"Well, I was hoping you'd be willing to take on a very specific commission for me."

"Hmm, whatcha need?" He didn't look too interested, barely sparing my a glance.

"A magical Foci in the shape of a sword."

He paused his working and turned to face me. "Do I look like a mage, boy?"

"I don't need you to be a mage, I need you to do the forging, I can do all the magical aspects."

He let out a snort. "You want me to work around you, then?" He raised an eyebrow. "I don't just let anyone into my forge when I'm working."

"2,000 septims." I just threw out my savings.

Once again he just paused and blinked at me. "Explain to me what it is you actually need."

"I'll do you one better." I withdrew a few pieces of parchment from my ring. Just because I had been resting a few days, didn't mean I lazed around. "These are the schematics." I rolled them out on the nearby table.

He dropped the hammer and plyers in his hand and walked over, flattening the rolled pages and getting a good look. "This is mad." He finally said.

"Can you not do it?" I challenged.

"You want the blade part to be made of glass?"

"Not just any glass." I took out Chillrend and the small chunk I had stored.

"What is….." He picked up the sword. "I don't think I've ever heard of glass like this." He admired the weapon. "And you want me to…..reforge this?"

"Yup." I said with a gleeful smile.

"It's a pity, this sword is beautiful." He sighed, setting it down. "You're lucky lad, not many Nords can work with glass like I can. But the other stuff, you must be mad if you think this will work. You want the handle made out of ebony, with Orichalcum enamel and what looks like Moonstone running inside all the way to the blade from the base of the hilt...and there is a little spherical section at the base where something should go, an ornament of sorts."

"Can you do it?"

"….Son, this is the most ridiculous sword I've ever seen….and I'm now too curious to see how it turns out."

Well, the pride of a blacksmith is an interesting thing.

"And I'm sure a couple thousand septims doesn't hurt."

"Aye, the money is well worth it." He nodded without a second thought.

"I'm going to have to smelt this sword down first, and this glass isn't what I'm more used to it may take some trial and error."

I took off my vest, and unbuttoned my shirt, and rolled up my sleeves. "I'm here to assist."

"You ever assist in smithing, son?"

"I know a thing or two." I smirked. "I'll get on the bellows, tell me when the temperature is good."

"Alright, it's your money and materials, don't be cryin to me when something goes wrong." He shrugged.

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"HOLD IT, THIS GLASS IS DAMN FINNICKY, ANY HIGHER AND IT'LL SHATTER."

"Fuck, this wood is burning too quick, I'll throw some frost magic at it."

"Steady! It's melting good now. Good, slowly lower the temperature..."

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"Did you not see my drawing!? The Moonstone needs to be inlaid at the base of the glass."

"I'm tellin you, the glass will get too brittle if you try to add the moonstone after it fully settles!"

"Then how the hells are you going to cast the ebony and orichalcum overtop if you do the moonstone first!?"

"Brat I've been doing this before your mother even thought about conceiving you! Moonstone has a higher melting point due to its purer magic nature, we can put a mold of the Ebony on after we get this bit in first!"

"Alright, fine, you're the expert."

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"Hold it steady, boy. I don't need you fucking it up at the last part."

"Just pour the Orichalcum in, old man, make sure you mix some more of my blood in."

"First line is done....second line is done...…and there's the last one. So, get ready to quench...now!"

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"Amazing." I blurted out as Eorlund put the finishing touches on my weapon.

He held it in a pair of tongs, the steam still coming from the cooled metal. Carefully, he set down to fully cool off. "This turned out well." he admired his work. "Explain to me how this works."

"Ebony rejects magicka, so it gets all funneled into to Orichalcum. Orichalcum eats up all the magical energy, but doesn't like letting it go, so the Moonstone takes it and carries it to the glass blade which can be used for spells." I listed off my thoughts on its creation.

I couldn't just use the Orichalcum for the handle, if I had too much Orichalcum then my magical energy would never be pushed off into the moonstone to the glass. And any other metal would general take come magical energy into it, essentially wasting the runoff, whereas Ebony is both extremely durable and doesn't want my magical energy. And moonstone suffers from being to weak a material for a more physical use. A good hit on the handle and it would have been damaged. The glass itself was stronger than steel and took in magical energy like it was starving, but it would be dangerous to make the entire thing out of pure glass. I needed to separate the part that handles spellcasting from what I was 'holding'.

"But there's one last material to add…"

Right, Ddraig?

[You want this now?]

Yeah, I'm ready for it.

I summoned my boosted gear, earning a look from the blacksmith but I ignored it for now. It came out without any fanfare, no huge world-changing events.

The Eye of Magnus.

It was just a small little orb in the palm of my hand, smaller than even a gold coin. And that wasn't because of the excess magicka I drained from it. This thing was still going strong, just less volatile. No, the size was completely irrelevant. Its 'physical' form didn't truly exist it was an exertion into this plane of existence, and it was how we perceived it. I could therefore 'shrink' it down to something manageable.

Carefully, I inserted the Eye into the base of the pommel, a small opening that allowed it to 'click' into place.

My sword hummed as the Eye filled the entire thing with power.

I picked up my finished sword, giving it a careful swing. With another swing, I pulled upon the Kaleidoscope and filled it with the dimensional energies as it lit up in a rainbow light. For some reason the glass retained that 'chill' like fog every time I swung, the light let off a sort of 'afterimage' because of the cold air.

"The weapon needs a name." Eorlund spoke up. "It's too good a work of mine to be nameless."

Well, I thought of name immediately. "Mirage."

****

Author's Notes: I'll add a picture of the sword in the comments.