Zwei enjoyed studying ritual magic, but El-Prime hadn’t found much use for it outside of upgrading his shards. It was a field he wanted to explore, but the time and resource demands made it difficult. He already had his fingers in too many pies with all of his pursuits. However, more complex enchanting seemed to involve rituals, utilizing essences, materials taken from magical beasts or plants, and occasionally some sort of sacrifice.

It was a treat when Irma let him assist with one.

“It’s customary for new potential members to bring in something they’ve created,” she explained, picking up the tomahawk Zwei had brought in. A finger-think chain hung from the handle’s base. “This is already excellent work. Did you make the magic metal as well?”

“I was hoping to turn the sound magic within into a cleaving, impact, or explosion enchantment,” Zwei replied. It was one of the better pieces Eins had built. The magic within was potent, and the smithing-assistant clone had poured all the storm energy he could muster into it to the point of dispellment. “But if it's something I’m supposed to surrender, I’d rather not take it along.”

“Someone might offer to purchase it from you, but no, you’re not expected to give up your work. It's more of a demonstration of what you can manage. Even a minor enchantment using the internal magic will be enough to turn heads and win you a position.” Irma took a moment to examine the weapon. “You used Chopper’s weapon as a model, didn’t you?”

Zwei nodded. “She didn’t use the handaxes much, but my golems could do a lot with these. I suspect a sonic enchantment will prove powerful against the Syllicites and other armored beasts around here.”

“I don’t understand the obsession with big weapons,” Irma stated, looking through her volume of enchantments. Colored bookmarks helped navigate complexity and type. “Abilities and enchantment cover most needs. Chopper could probably perform just as well with her handaxes. Why even bother with that massive, ugly cleaver?”

“Reach perhaps?” Zwei hoped for an opportunity to summon the journal and copy its contents. Ever since he gained the ability to summon and use the journal, he had copied several of Irma’s books, prioritizing pieces dedicated to spellwork and enchanting theory. Now, it was time to delve into theory. “I don’t like heavy, oversized weapons like Chopper’s cleaver. But I am partial to spears and polearms, especially for the shadow golems.”

“Doesn’t matter. I did my time. It shouldn’t have to go on a field mission for a while. If I’m lucky, I’ll be too old and wrinkled for them even to consider me the next time my turn comes around.” Irma smiled, pausing on a page marked with a grey tag. “There we go! Cleaving enchantment.” She turned the book of tied-together parchments around to face Zwei. “This is what we’re going to be inscribing into the axehead. “I’d rather you’re well rested for tomorrow, so no all-nighters. However, if you finish in time, there is a minor durability enchantment in your training manual that can go on the shaft.”

“And the ritual ingredients?” Zwei asked, scanning the pages.

“Get started with the inscriptions and I’ll get them together.”

The inscribing process was swifter and easier than with the lighting drone. Zwei didn’t have to work around the old carvings and be careful about worsening old damage. Instead, he helped himself to one of Irma’s enchanted inscribing pens.

It started with drawing the script on the metal using a graphite stick. He took his time, pursuing accuracy and perfection. Every mistake slowed Zwei down more. Because of how close together the runes, syntax, and all other spell shapes were, it was impossible to erase only one section. The surrounding eras also suffered damage, forcing him to go over several sections of the script. Zwei didn’t mind.

It's better to make errors now than later.

“You took liberties with the script,” Irma commented when Zwei showed her his work.

“I just wanted to leave some room for alterations using intent,” he replied, struggling to suppress the anxious foot tap. It felt like he was back in school, showing off a project to his favorite teacher. “Is it passable?”

“Well, it’s clear your arcane knowledge is well above par. I don’t know where someone as young as you gets the time and energy to learn spellcraft, enchanting, smithing, and pursue field missions.” She checked the axehead’s second side. “It’s decent work. You traded efficiency for flexibility, but that’s not the worst thing.” Irma tapped the socket at the base of the staff. “A magic stone in there should make up for the issue. May I make a suggestion?”

“Of course.”

The enchanter checked the blank space where the blade met the shaft, and energy lines connected the script to the stone socket. “Add an essence containment section here. The script is complicated, but it doesn’t take up much space, and I have stencils to help. If you find the right essence for it—sonic, cleaving, impact—you could improve the enchantment’s potency several-fold or improve the energy efficiency for more uses.”

“Can’t hurt if there is a stencil,” Zwei stated. “But aren’t we already using an essence for the ritual?”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t leave room for a second one in the future.”

“I don’t want to miss out on increasing the shaft’s durability. It might not hold up for long otherwise, especially if I’m using the enchantment and chain regularly. I’ll leave it for the end after everything else is done.”

“Get to it then.”

Zwei ended up pulling an all-nighter again and slept in the workshop. He didn’t get time for the stencil, but didn’t consider that a complete loss. It was his first complex, enchanting project, after all. He was primarily after the experience, so when the time to enchant the phoenix-fire glaive came, he’d be ready. The first lights of dawn had just started to peep through the window when he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, it was annoyingly bright, and Irma was walking around, far better dressed than usual.

Ritual materials lay spread out on the floor at the center of the workshop. The outer shapes, which were consistent across several enchanting rituals, were already painted onto the floor. Zwei got to work straight away, using washable ink, filling in the rest. Irma said nothing. She had already prepared the necessary mixture using ground magic crystal, blood from a magical beast, and chalk. The paint carried a familiar smell. It reminded him of Esther’s clinic. She often used similar mixtures for her patients’ healing rituals. El-Prime regretted not paying better attention and learning the simpler ones. The materials were reasonably cheap.

He worked carefully, trying his best to draw it from memory. Zwei had dedicated several hours to absorbing the theory texts. The lack of sleep and soreness didn’t get to him. As a clone, he barely needed much, and even then, the ascension to tier three had made him far more resilient than before.

Most of the ingredients came from Irma’s stores, and El-Prime had provided the funds for the essence. It took some hunting to find something appropriate in the markets. Zwei excitedly fetched the sphere from the coat hanging by the door. It appeared empty at first, but then the air within seemed to crack.

“What is that?” Irma asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Essence of Fracture. The shopkeeper misidentified it.” Zwei grinned. “I got it for a steal.”

“And you want to use it for the hatchet? Wouldn’t it be better with one of your shard abilities?”

Zwei shook his head. “I already have essences ready for my Heart and Mind. Body and Soul are still too far from the next tier. In my experience, essences come and go/ I’m sure I’ll find something equivalent or better when the time comes.”

“You do realize that your experience isn’t typical, right?” The enchanter snorted. “Not everyone has powerful friends like the Cold Fire Sorcerer.” She nodded at his coat. “I also noticed the tier-three guild badge. Don’t think I didn’t look into you.”

“You had someone tail me, didn’t you?” Zwei asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing so dramatic. I asked around. My friends and I like to know about the Gray’s powerful and talented, regardless of whether they are residents or tourists.” Irma clapped her hands. “Let’s get this show started. I need you to bathe and get cleaned up before we head out. Lunch won’t be until an hour after noon, but we start the introductions and demonstrations early.”

The enchanter took a step back and let Zwei take on the process alone. Much like with the ritual for upgrading the shards, there were circles for all of the reagents. He placed the tomahawk at the center of the spell circle. The Essence of Fracture and the remaining reagents found their positions around the perimeter.

The ritual didn’t require any bloodletting. Instead, it required Zwei to channel magic into the spell circle in just the correct order. He had to manipulate the flow of energy, breaking down each reagent in a precise order with just the right timing. The process demanded that one not be allowed to activate before the magic from one had entered the mix.

It started with Snow Shrike’s larynx. The magic that flowed from it left the surrounding air rippling. Zwei heard a deep hum that somehow calmed his racing heart. Next came the broken mandible of a Depths Burrower. It seemed more metallic than chitinous. It felt sturdier than tempered steel. The mandible melted, and magic flowing through the circle seemed to turn almost mercurial.

The next reagent made little sense to Zwei. It was one of the magic crystals that grew out of the Sylicites’ backs. He didn’t understand why an ordinary magic crystal wasn’t enough. The second it broke down, the energy in the ritual almost tripled. Containing it and maintaining control over the flow was challenging. Zwei had to use the Calm Before and clench his jaw to keep it all together.

Finally, it was the Essence of Fracture's turn. Reality seemed to fissure as the essence glass melted. The cracks spread several inches above the ritual circle before receding into the painted shapes and characters. Then its magic joined the rest before the contained cocktail flowed into the hatchet. Zwei’s breath caught in his throat as the most challenging part of the ritual came, keeping all the energy contained and giving it ample time to bond with the tomahawk. It was the only stage of the ritual for which Irma had offered to help. Since she didn’t rush in to assist, he guessed everything was going well.

It didn’t feel like Zwei that he was doing a good job. Irma’s expressionless face didn’t offer much reassurance. He put it all out of his mind and focused.

You can do this.

Something changed within. Zwei couldn’t tell whether Thunderstorm’s Eye had grown or Spellweaver had reached the necessary threshold for ascension. Nothing mattered besides the ritual. Things got easier with every passing second. At first, he thought he was getting better, but then he realized that the volume of energy was rapidly decreasing. The ritual circle lost luminosity, and the tomahawk’s inscriptions started to glow. Zwei was ready to collapse when it all came to an end.

“Have you done this before?” Irma asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Rituals? Yes. Enchanting no.” Zwei struggled to get his breathing and racing heart under control. “That almost broke me. I haven’t had to contain and control for such a long time before. Did I do well?”

“Brilliantly.” The enchanter smiled. “It’s a shame you didn’t get time to get the additional script in, but I don’t think it matters. Everyone is going to be impressed. In fact, they might struggle to believe you did this alone.”

“I’ll just need to convince them.”

“Have you thought of a name for the tomahawk yet?”

Zwei shook his head. He left the privilege for El-Prime. “