Chapter 10 – Forging the Future
The morning was heavy with grief. Ashton's eyes were still red when he lifted the elder's body into his arms. His steps were steady, but each one carried the weight of sorrow. The villagers followed him in silence, their footsteps a hushed chorus behind him. No one dared to speak.
The sun hung high, casting its light over the path as Ashton carried the body toward the lake. The gentle lapping of water on the shore greeted them as they arrived, its surface gleaming like a sheet of blue.
Ashton carefully laid the elder upon the ground, straightening the old man's limbs with reverence.
He turned to face the crowd, his crimson eyes burning with a mix of sorrow and resolve.
"My fellow villagers… the elder has passed. Tonight, we say goodbye. We will burn his body and give his ashes to the lake, so he may rest in peace and return to the world as part of it."
A murmur rippled through the villagers. One man raised a trembling hand.
"Why would we burn his body?"
Ashton's gaze softened, but his voice was firm. "Because it is better this way. Fire purifies.
The lake will carry his ashes where we cannot. He will not rot, nor be devoured by beasts. Instead, he will become part of the land and water that nurtures us."
Silence followed. Slowly, heads nodded.
Ashton knelt beside the elder, resting a hand gently over the man's chest. "May you rest in peace.
You believed in us to the very end… and I will not betray that belief."
He extended his other hand, summoning Ether. A faint flame sparked at his fingertips, growing brighter, steadier, until it became a controlled fire. Carefully, reverently, he placed the flame upon the elder's body.
The fire caught quickly, devouring cloth and flesh alike. The villagers bowed their heads, some weeping openly. The scent of burning filled the air, but no one turned away. They owed the elder that much.
Five minutes later, only ashes remained. Ashton crouched, gathering them with his hands into a clay bowl. He walked to the lake's edge and slowly poured them out. The wind carried some into the night sky, the rest fell into the water, dispersing into the silver waves.
He stood for a long time, watching until every trace of ash was gone. Only then did he turn back to the villagers. His face was solemn, but there was steel in his voice.
"We are weak. That is the truth." His words cut like a blade. "Our weakness led to the elder's death. Weak enough that even our strongest men were beaten. Weak enough that others think they can take what little we have." He clenched his fists. "But no more. We will not stay weak."
The villagers exchanged uneasy glances. For a moment, no one spoke. Then, a boy about Ashton's age stepped forward.
His eyes were sharp, filled with a spark Ashton recognized—hope.
"If your solution is to make us strong enough to defend ourselves…" the boy said firmly, "then I'm in."
One by one, voices joined him. Murmurs of agreement turned into nods, then into words.
"I'll do it."
"We'll stand together."
"Yes."
Ashton allowed himself a small smile. "Good. Then listen carefully. We start today. No wasting time. I know of a cave nearby. Inside, there is iron."
"Iron?" A woman frowned. "What is iron?"
Ashton held up a piece of stone-like metal he had gathered earlier, letting the torchlight glint off it.
"Iron is stronger than stone. With it, we can forge weapons and tools. With it, humans can stand on equal ground."
He turned, looking at the children. "The kids will stay and continue tending the fields. Kim," he said, pointing at the boy who had shown courage earlier, "I'm counting on you to lead them."
Kim straightened, his young face proud. "Leave it to me!"
Ashton nodded. Then his gaze swept over the women of the village. "And the boar skins I told you to prepare—did you keep them?"
A woman raised her hand.
"Yes, we laid them out under the sun this morning."
"Good," Ashton said. "Bring them. I'll teach you how to turn them into proper clothing with the help of Ether."
He turned to the men. His voice hardened. "The rest of you, with me. We go to the cave. It's one kilometer away. There, you'll learn to mine iron."
The men exchanged nervous looks but followed.
The cave loomed large, its entrance like a jagged maw. Torches lit their path as Ashton led them inside. The air was cool and damp, the walls glittering faintly with dark streaks of metal.
He stopped before a vein of iron. "Watch closely."
Ether surged through his arm, strengthening his muscles. He drew his fist back and slammed it into the wall. For a moment, nothing happened—then with a deep crack, a chunk of iron shattered free and fell at his feet.
He bent down, lifting the piece for all to see. "This is iron. This is what we need. From today forward, you will come here every morning until noon. Gather as much as you can."
He scanned their faces, then pointed at a sturdy-looking man. "You. What's your name?"
The man swallowed nervously. "Joseph."
"Good. From now on, Joseph, you're in charge of the mining team. You'll report everything to me—progress, problems, all of it. Understood?"
Joseph nodded quickly. "Y-yes!"
"Good." Ashton handed him the chunk of iron and turned back toward the entrance. "Then we're done for today. Return tomorrow."
Back in the village, the women had gathered the boar skins. Ashton laid them out and raised his hands.
"Now, watch. First, you must understand Ether Breathing—drawing in the energy around you, focusing it, and weaving it into the task at hand.
Not the Ether Heart—" his voice hardened, "—that is too dangerous. Only simple techniques you can handle."
One by one, he demonstrated how to soften the skins with fire magic, how to shape them with threads of Ether, and how to stitch them into simple garments.
The women gasped in awe, clumsy at first, but slowly following his instructions.
"You don't need to master it today," Ashton reassured them. "But learn. These clothes will protect you from cold and rain far better than scraps."
By the time the stars were bright overhead, Ashton finally returned to his own hut. He sat heavily, placing the piece of iron upon the ground before him. His crimson eyes narrowed with determination.
Activating Clairvoyance, he studied every flaw and angle of the metal. Then, with Ether strengthening his arms, he raised his dagger.
Sparks flew as he chipped, shaped, and refined the piece.
He summoned fire, heating it until it glowed. Slowly, painstakingly, he forged the beginnings of a spearhead.
When it was finished, he set it onto a wooden shaft he had prepared earlier. The shaft itself was etched with strengthening spells.
He tightened it in place and raised the weapon, admiring the gleam of the steel-like tip.
"This…" Ashton whispered, running a finger along the cool surface, "is humanity's first step to fighting back."
He stood, carrying the spear outside. The moonlight glinted off the weapon, painting it silver and red. His voice was low, but firm, carried on the night air.
"If they come again—demi-humans, beasts, even those cursed gods—we will be ready."
He tightened his grip on the spear, crimson eyes glowing fiercely.
"No more running.
No more weakness.
From this night forward… humanity will raise.