Pete weighed his new blade and swung it around a bit, stepping quickly around the forge, switching hands and stabbing and slashing the air enough times to slay an imaginary dragon. Finally, when he deemed the weight, reach and balance desirable, did he with a slightly trembling hand reach into his pocket and once more held out the diamond from before. The sword, as far as Pete could tell from only seconds of practice, was wonderful, although no better than his old in terms of handling. In fact it was quite like his old one, if slightly wider, which he did not mind. It was also sharper and greater for slashing. Pete's old rapier was only truly sharp at the end, as it was a stabbing weapon that allowed for some minor annoyance cuts before the killing strike. A slash from this new weapon would spill entrails, the thought of which Pete neither liked or disliked. His new sword had more ways of killing, which made fights more varied and therefore more entertaining, but the sharper edge meant Pete could no longer rest it safely on his shoulder or swing it about with as much carelessness, which would not intimidate Kala as much, which was a great disappointment in a weapon.<br/>But if the Fifth was returning he needed to abandon all jokes for lethality.<br/><br/>Pete shook his head. He should be thinking about the Fifth, but not making decisions based on him. He was still nothing more than a sentence from a strange merman, not an established facts. The mountain air did not hold a whisper of his return, nor did the earth quake with his coming footsteps. Pete should not be concerning himself with folklore.<br/><br/>And with that settled, his new sword could go straight back into the forge if it failed this final test; the only thing he truly cared about when he sought out Vrael: the diamond.<br/>With bated breath Pete pushed the diamond into the hilt of the sword and watched as the solid gilded metal rippled apart like pond water, displacing itself and smoothing out, hardening as soon as Pete let go of the gem, which held tight in the hand-guard's embrace.<br/>Pete one more struck a pose and slashed, twirled and stabbed at the air, in the exact pattern as before, measuring each little change in the weight and balance, and smiled when he registered none.<br/><br/>He then turned to the pile of gems on the table, each one accounted for, and each one with its own history of duels and bloodshed. Each gem, taken from his old sword, was a tale of his triumphs. One gem for each opponent he had killed; one color for each race; one size for the worth of the opponent. If Pete had ever been scratched he might have done similarly to the gem of the man who had done it, but no scar blemished Pete's skin, and all gems were in their own right perfect.<br/>He pushed them all into the hand-guard or the blade itself; a small pile of gems, weighing enough that he should detect the changes in the sword, but he could detect none. He repeated the slashes, twists and stabs, and still found no difference from when the sword had been bare metal.<br/><br/>And Pete's smile was greater than ever. His eyes shone brighter than the fires of Vrael's forge, and the happiness that radiated from him was palpable. The sword would never dull; the sword would never need to be rebalanced; and for every kill he made from this day forth, his legacy would be easily added to his weapon. Pete had at last found the blade he would never have to melt. He had found a blade that he would never have to betray.<br/><br/>He rushed out the forge, not able to keep himself from running. He would have jumped if the door frame was taller, and he called for Vrael to hurry, lest his satisfaction gave him wings.<br/>------<br/><br/>â€œAah, there you are, my fine friends,â€ Pete called to the backs of Kala and Koralheim. Pete had acquired a scabbard from Vrael as well, though it was plain to look at, and not at all what Pete considered complementary. Out of habit Pete kept his hand on the sword, feeling naked if he was not holding unto a hilt.<br/>â€œYou were quite easy to find, I am fear to say. I needed only ask anywhere if they had seen a dragon and a merman walk by together and how long since they had. Mermen are not common, but far rarer are the dragon folk, and the two together is a first-sight for all in this city â€“ especially so far from the outer-most walls. I fear I shall not wish to attract unwanted attention to myself while in the company of you lovely creatures, lest I make myself easy prey.â€<br/>Pete gestured towards Vrael with a bemused look; he had still not lost the joy that his new sword gave him, like a child that got one of Koralheimâ€™s toys as a solstice present. "This is Vrael, a master of the forge, and the maker of my new blade, the satisfaction with which even I do not have enough words to describe. He asked to come along to meet you, Koralheim, and I thought it rude to reject a craftsman from meeting one of the few equals in renown. I hope you accept his excellent company the same way you have accepted my own."<br/><br/>He walked with them for a bit, smiling contently and walking in his own thoughts. It was not nighttime yet, but it was dark and he could see the stars. He should have noticed earlier, but his thoughts had been otherwise preoccupied, and it was with a strange sensation he remembered the only part about Northpeak that he liked more than the other cities: in the winter the night lasted half the year.<br/>It was not quite true. It had been significantly lighter when he walked to Vrael, but during the forging of his new sword, night had fallen early and he could now see the first stars. Pete sighed audibly with happiness as he walked with his head tilted back, and only out the corner of his eye could he see Kalaâ€™s tall form, which he made sure to walk behind to have her act as a barrier to prevent him from bumping into strangers. She was either too proud to step aside for any man, or she was just intimidating enough that others stepped aside well in advance.<br/><br/>â€œKoralheim,â€ he asked softly, and dreamily, without signs of mockery. He was still looking up at the sky. â€œDo you think I could borrow your Kala for a bit? I promised her a lesson, like you teach her to sign, and I would feel bad if I did not pass on as much of my knowledge as I can. She has shown a keener interest in learning than any of her race which I have encountered, and such curiosity is admirable.â€ He turned his head slightly to Kala, but was still looking into the sky above her rather than directly at her. â€œWould you come with me? I promise I shall not offend you, or try anything but to impart what wisdom I posses unto you, and while our friends can come along, the magic will be gone if they learn the same lessons as you.â€