18 A New Project
"Oh..." Hephaestus sits with a raised brow. Her crimson eyes meet Atreus' blue, "...Do you remember your birth parents at all?" she asks.
Atreus opens his mouth and closes it again. His chin meets his chest, "No..." he responds.
The goddess stares at the top of Atreus' head, sighing as she raises a hand to her forehead, "Some people don't deserve the ability to procreate. And yet... Gods are the only ones truly lacking," Hephaestus sighs again, her elbows meeting the table, "I'm sorry, I didn't know."
"It's alright," Atreus says, raising his head to meet the Goddess's eyes again.
"Well... That was quite depressing, wasn't it?" Mimir says with a chuckle.
Hephaestus nods, her eyes trailing to Kratos, "It appears you have everything that you need to create a familia. If you'll meet me here tomorrow, I can walk you through the process... Now, about those blades," Hephaestus says with a gleam in her eyes.
Kratos pauses, staring at the Goddess with furrowed brows. A tense atmosphere fills the room, something that Kratos can nigh avoid with his overbearing presence. The Greek God sighs, standing and stepping towards the disturbed Goddess before him. His rough palms meet the cool leather handles of the Blades of Chaos, bringing them before him and offering them to Hephaestus.
"Wait," The Smith God says suddenly, her eyes glued to the menacing blades before her. Hephaestus stands from her chair, walking over to a section of the wall left bare save for a steel symbol of two hammers and a flame hung on the wall. She pushes the wall in, and like the elevator that the group arrived in, the section retreats into the rest of the wall.
"Follow me," Hephaestus says to Kratos.
Kratos nods, picking Mimir up from the desk and glancing back at Atreus. He gestures with his head for Atreus to follow him, and the boy nods, following his father into the dark room past the wall.
Torches burn all around the room, creating shaky shadows on the smooth stone walls. On the back wall, a stone furnace sits with a bright crimson flame crackling inside. A black anvil sets before the furnace, and a large rectangular table rises from the floor closer to the front.
Hephaestus rounds the rectangular table, putting her hands on the table, "You can set them here," she points to the table.
Kratos hums, stepping up and gently setting the blades before the goddess. Silence falls as Hephaestus stares at the blades, her eyes roaming to a black leather handle with a golden demon-like mouth that acts as the hilt. The blade is short, almost short enough to be considered a dagger. On the blades, branching lines glow red as they extend nearly the entire length of the steel.
"...How long have you had these?" Hephaestus asks, glancing at Kratos.
Kratos grunts as he stares at the blades with distracted eyes, "Longer than I would like to think about," he responds.
Hephaestus nods, humming as she returns her eyes to the blades, "Do they have any special properties?" she asks another question with no hesitation.
Atreus steps up to the table, "They light on fire when he throws them out," he says.
The Goddess looks up at Atreus with a furrowed brow, "Throw them out? What do you mean?" she responds with curiosity in her voice.
Atreus glances at his father, pointing to the chains wrapped around the man's forearms, "Those chains attach to the blades, and he can attack an enemy even from a distance! Though I always wondered how he doesn't hit himself..." Atreus says, putting a hand to his chin.
Hephaestus stares at those chains with parted lips, pausing as the cogs in her mind begin to turn at an incredible rate, weight distribution, materials, and designs all swirling in her brain like little sprites, "Chains..." she mutters, suddenly raising her brows, "...How have I never thought of that? It adds a whole new layer to an already incredible weapon..."
Kratos's eyes witness a strange and nostalgic detail as the Smith God seems to have an entire conversation with no one but herself. Hephaestus' level of focus, like all that exists is her and the blades remind him of a bitter-sweet memory.
The Ghost of Sparta's mind floats to the cold forest of Midgard, among towering trees and frozen ground. A woman crouches behind a bush as she stares at a group of draugr limping through an opening in the forest. Save for the sporadic footsteps of the draugr, it's silent, and Kratos can't even hear the woman's breath. Suddenly, with perfect timing and efficient movement, the woman lurches forward, slaughtering the draugr in an instant, all with a level of focus that Kratos envies.
"Laufey..." Kratos mutters inaudibly as he's dragged from the daydream, his eyes once again met with the shining crimson hair of Hephaestus.
Hephaestus seems to be broken from her deep concentration, her eyes meeting Kratos'. She pauses, a slight blush slowly forming on her cheeks, "Uh... Are you okay?" she asks.
With a calm, nigh tired look in his eyes, Kratos nods, "I am alright... Are you finished?" he asks his own question.
Hephaestus nods, "Yes, I'm about done..." she says, pursing her lips, "...I just have one question."
"What is it?" Kratos responds.
The Goddess' eyes switch between Kratos and Atreus for a moment as silence fills the room, and finally, she takes a deep breath, "...Of course, It's only if you would allow it as they are your property, but... Could I recreate these blades?" Hephaestus says.
Kratos furrows his brows, "For what reason?" he asks.
Hephaestus glances at those chains on Kratos' forearms, "If I could get the specs right, this could be revolutionary for Orario and its adventurers. It would take a ridibulous amount of training and failure, but if adventurers are able to master chain weapons, it will add a whole new layer to their fighting style. Of course, the weapons that I end up selling will be much different, but the notion still stands," she responds.
Kratos hums, "And you would need to recreate these for that? I hope you do not expect me to leave them with you," he says.
Hephaestus shakes her head, "Of course not. I just need a sketch and a list of specs. Weight, length, width... Just the basics," she says.
The Greek God stands in silence, glancing at Atreus, who stands to the side inspecting tools laid out on a table in the corner of the room, "...If I allow you to do this, you will create a weapon for the boy," he says, his eyes returning to Hephaestus.
The Smith God nods with her lips slightly curled, "That would only be right. I will need some time to create prototypes, but Atreus will receive the first final product... I can promise you that," she says.
Kratos nods, "How much time?" he responds.
"A week, two, even a whole month. I won't know how difficult the project is until I begin. It should not take long though... I've been itching to create something new, something that I can drown myself in. And this seems to be just that," Hephaestus says with a new shine in her eyes. The Goddess' entire aura seems to have completely changed since laying her eyes on the blades, that deep crimson energy burning in Kratos' eyes growing and turning to a brighter red-orange color.
Kratos nods, "...Work quickly. We are not patient people," he says.
The Smith God giggles as she leans up from the table and walks over to a corner of the room, "My best works are always for difficult customers. Pressure me all you want, it will only make me want to create more," she says, retrieving a rolled-up parchment paper from a shelf.
Hephaestus returns to the table and unravels the parchment, her brow suddenly raising as she stares at the blades, "Wait, have you been entering the dungeon?" she asks.
Kratos furrows his brows, "Yes... Why do you ask?" he responds.
The Goddess stands straight from the table, her brow still raised, "Really? You don't even know that God's are not allowed to enter the dungeon?..." she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, "...You really have been living under a rock... Listen, the dungeon hates gods and goddesses all the same, and if you release your divinity in there... It will do everything in its power to make sure you do not leave alive."
Kratos swipes a hand through the air, "Our lives are the last ones you should worry about... Focus on your work," he responds with nonchalant words.
Hephaestus sighs again, "Alright... Just- please be careful. You three seem to be good people, and I would hate to lose another customer to the dungeon," she says.
"We're always careful. But it's not like anyone in this city is a threat, right Father?" Atreus says just as nonchalant as Kratos.
The Greek God nods, and Hephaestus sighs again, "Whatever you say... Don't say I didn't warn you though," she says, noticing that her words are merely slamming into two brick walls.
