Fighting Fire with Fire

Arie sat in the chair, quietly gazing into the forge.

"Have you two finished talking?"

"Yes. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

"Not at all. I was watching the fire, and the time simply slipped away."

"Please forgive me for leaving you unattended, my lady."

"Heh. Did the talk go well?"

Instead of answering, I looked down at her for a moment.

"...Yes. The Debutante will be opening soon, I hear."

At that word, Arie stretched, long and hard.

"Ugh...! That's just it. Father will probably be scouting a match for me while he's at it, won't he?"

I said nothing.

"Haa. I really don't want to be sold off to some other territory."

"Sold off? You'll be going there to fall in love."

"I didn't hear a shred of sincerity in that."

Sharp as ever.

"Couldn't you simply choose to believe that's what you're going for?"

"How am I supposed to fall in love with someone whose face I've never even seen?"

She had a point. The trouble was that if things went the way they had in the original story, she would never live long enough to worry about a match at all.

"Well. I suppose I ought to stick to repairing your staff, my lady."

"You don't feel even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a little sorry for me?"

"Well... I do pity you. Just not in the way you mean."

"In what way, then?"

I glanced at the staff bound at her waist and grinned, deliberately casual.

"Your staff is trembling, my lady."

"Trembling?"

"It's begging you to go a little easier on the magic practice."

Arie shrugged.

"I didn't do a thing yesterday, you know."

"A staff that did nothing doesn't crack like that, my lady."

"Ugh. Can't you just pretend you didn't notice?"

"Seems I was being dense again. My apologies. Haha!"

I let the laugh fade, then held out my right hand.

"May I have it? Isn't that why you came?"

"Talking with you really is easy, Mr. Karon."

"All of a sudden?"

"Yes. Maybe because we're the same age... we just understand each other."

She drew the staff from her waist and held it out to me.

Got it.

The Blacksmith's Blessing. It gathered only the abilities I needed as I was now, but one line mattered more than all the rest.

The other person had to place the weapon in my hands of their own will. Take it without permission, and the memories would never come.

Two days. I'll have to feel my way through everything carved into this staff and find a place where I can step in.

Staff in hand, I pulled one of the potatoes I'd tossed into the forge back out of the coals.

"Ah...!"

Arie's eyes lit up.

"Be honest with me. You came to the forge for these, didn't you?"

"If I say yes, will you give them to me?"

"Say no, and you only get half."

"Pfft. You really can't lie."

She held out her hand as if she had known all along. I packed the well-roasted potatoes into a basket and passed it over.

"Come back in four days. I'll have it good as new by then."

"All right, Mr. Karon. Is there anything else you need?"

"No. If something comes up, I'll say so."

"Then have a good day!"

Arie stepped outside, stood alone, and began to chant. Fallen leaves caught on the wind drew in around her. Third Tier wind magic, and not a staff in her hand. No wonder the Duke treasures her. The leaves tightened into a small whirlwind, and when the whirlwind vanished, so did she.

Time for me to move, too. At least I remember exactly how Arie ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dies.

The reception room lay behind the forge, and deeper inside it was a space that belonged to me alone. Magic stones and weapon parts lay scattered across the desk. I sat down and set Arie's staff on top of it.

Right. Lock the door.

I got up, turned the lock, and quietly closed my eyes.

The Debutante was two weeks away. Eris, who had been drilling Fourth Tier magic alone every single day, would in the finals succeed at Third Tier magic without even meaning to. Perhaps the roar of the crowd spurred her on. She conjured far more blades than she had expected, and in her panic she lost control of them.

That was where it went wrong. Eris could cast Third Tier magic. She had never learned how to unravel it once it was loose. In the instant Arie broke through the defensive barrier to dispel it, Eris's opponent cast Reflection Magic to save herself.

Arie dealt with most of the blades. But the moment a wind blade struck the Reflection Magic, it shattered into many, and the ones she had not yet dispelled cut straight into her.

All right. Let's see what I can actually do for her, as I am now.

People said it wasn't Eris's fault. The words did nothing to ease her guilt, and so Eris's tragedy began. But I knew the ending, which meant I could change it. I would not—could not—let the cushy little life I wanted come apart.

I opened my eyes, laid a hand on the staff, and began to read the memories it held.

Ha... when am I supposed to dig through all of this?

Memories engraved in a weapon took time to flow in. Catch the right moment, or the right trace, and I could leap straight into an older one. The catch was that the same span of time passed out here while I looked.

Well. My time's too precious for this, but I'll have to grope around until I find a lead.

I arrived at the Debutante of three years ago, the first time Arie had ever used Third Tier magic. Watching the young ladies around her, a thought struck me.

Come to think of it, I can't make her armor. Or a spare weapon.

Arie would be the star of this Debutante, which meant she would be dressed light, and splendid. Try to put armor under that, and the Duke might actually lose his temper. So there was only one answer.

I don't like it... but I'll have to sneak a look at House Olivia's magic.

Understand the Olivia formula through the staff. Then make something that would cast on its own, even if Arie couldn't react in time. I already had candidates in mind—a necklace, a brooch, earrings. The problem was that in this world, a man giving jewelry to a woman meant something else entirely.

A ring is a proposal. A bracelet is a bond. Ha. They hang a meaning on every last thing.

A love that leapt the gap between a duke's daughter and a blacksmith in service. There was no better fuel for rumor.

Maybe I should just make one for Eris, too...

I stared at the staff a moment longer, and then I laughed.

"Ha! Right. Move first. I've been thinking too much."

Two days later, the shipment the Duke had demanded still hadn't arrived. That left me free to throw everything I had into reading the staff.

Honestly... this house has been mad for generations.

Just finding a thread of the ducal magic formula took ages. I kept turning the memories over, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and at last—exactly seventy years back—I found a clue in Arie's grandmother, the woman who had once wielded this same staff.

It goes all the way to the Seventh Tier, and the higher the tier, the stiller the wind.

Of course, understanding a thing and being able to use it were different problems. Theory and practice never line up. In the staff's memory, Arie's grandmother left a word for Duke Shale, the present lord of the domain.

And I understood.

"What the hell kind of bullshit is this."

With a head like mine, I had no business even thinking about learning magic. Fine. A blacksmith only has to make the thing work, and I was a man who could lay hands on a weapon with mana running through it.

Clang.

I brought the hammer down hard on the magic stone set into the staff.

First, nick the stone just enough to let House Olivia's mana leak...

When it began to seep, I picked up the two brooches I had prepared. Ornaments that could hold mana weren't hard to come by.

Now, if I press a brooch to it...

The moment the brooch touched the magic stone, the leaking mana started to soak into it, little by little.

Five minutes later.

"Whew."

I lifted the brooches free and dropped them into a small forge I had set aside.

Now I repair the staff's magic stone and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fill the cracks.

I mended the stone first with an iron heated in the fire, and at the same time shoved firewood into the small forge and blew, driving the heat higher.

Crack.

Hours later, something snapped inside the forge. Anyone else would have thought I had ruined it.

"Done."

In truth, it was the sealing crystal inside the brooch, splitting exactly as it was meant to.

Now there's a space to record the magic.

The brooch was open. All that remained was to have Eris or Arie cast a wind blade, and the brooch would store that formula. Afterward, if the same formula ever reached its wearer, the stored one would trigger on its own—the same magic, unfolded in the opposite direction, forced into cancellation.

Once. Only once.

I looked out the window. The sun was already going down. Tomorrow the arms Joaquin had spoken of would arrive, and if he was on the move, then either Arie or Eris might come to the forge with him.

"Uh..."

Perhaps because the brooches had set my mind a little at ease, the first worry came creeping back.

"But how am I supposed to hand these over...?"