Young Writers Society

During two months, me and my Doppelgänger made the necessary preparations for the upcoming battle against Crystial. Step by step, day by day, we would earn experience from our mistakes and delightfully enjoy our successes. However we were very focused on our training, and even though I was a talented crafter, I needed time and concentration to craft my new weapon like I wanted to.

Its abilities. Its balance. Its solidity. Its weight. Everything had to be absolutely perfect if I wanted to finally win against my rival. And unfortunately, going to the Scafy Corner in the meantime was out of the question. I still had to follow Rockenbor's Oryktia Academy lessons, but I couldn't spend my remaining free time in an Oryktia Crafting Club, even one as good as mine.

Melancholy was painfully striking my mind everyday.

The Scafy Corner was the only place where I could show off my skills and fight against worthy opponents while testing my creativity, and eventually put an act or make my surroundings laugh.

In other words, be myself.

It wasn't possible in my Academy, considering how stupid – at least at my eyes – and uninteresting the other pupils were. That was another reason why I had to get out of it: The Main Academy was probably filled with more respectable students and interesting lessons. At least it would change from my routine.

"Let's have a walk in the forest. Haven't be there in a while now."

The lessons were finished for the week and I could finally come back home, but once again I shared my Doppelgänger's feelings. I needed to see a familiar place to rest a bit. I had a boring day, but what else was new?

"Sure thing DG. Let's go."

"Tomorrow will be the last test. Looking forward to it."

I was indeed eager to craft Cyfer and see it in action before my showdown at the Scafy Corner, especially after being absent for so long.

"Must stop walking. Must avoid making noises. Now."

I instantly stopped.

"Calm down buddy! What's happening?"

I scanned the area around me and found the source of my Doppelgänger's agitation.

Not too far from my position, a cascade of shinny blue hair could be seen, contrasting with the color of the trees.

Crystial's hair.

She was standing next to a couple of bushes, obviously trying her best not to be seen. Any other person willing to spy on someone would act like her. On top of that, she was directly looking at my usual training spot.

"You were right. She was spying on us."

Strangely, I didn't feel any kind of anger or sadness towards her. I was just a bit disappointed.

"We did well not training in the forest the past weeks. Now let's carefully go home and forget about this."

"No Pumpkin Ghost smile?"

The idea of pulling another righteous prank to my rival was indeed delightful, but I had a better surprise in mind.

"Not this time. We have a Master Scheme to complete, remember? We'll call it a day for now. We'll beat her to ashes tomorrow anyway."

With a last glance at Crystial, I began to silently move back, taking my way home. More than ever, I had to complete my Master Scheme and prove to everyone how talented I really was.

I smiled and raised my fist in the air.

"Tricky spirit 'till the end!" I whispered to myself.

"As it should be!"

*****

"Hi Mom! I'm back from school."

This time, my mother directly came to me and gave me a huge hug. I had to say I was used to it.

"Cute little thing needs his mommy..."

"Shup up DG, who doesn't? At least she'll always be an ally."

"Welcome back Dyrow!" she started in a joyful tone. "How was your day?"

"Good, considering it's the last day of the week."

"Perfect! I'm glad you're enjoying your time there. I'll be preparing dinner if you need me."

"Enjoy is not really the adapted verb..."

"Oh, don't worry about dinner», I answered, ignoring my mind shard. «I have to finish something first anyway."

"Don't push yourself too hard young man! One needs strength to craft properly."

"Yeah, yeah..."

I sighed. I didn't know how many times I heard this sentence from both her and my dad. Probably a thousand times.

My mom always treated me as if I was still a little baby. She was careful and caring to extreme proportions: when I was going out to practice, I always had to explain in details where I was going, why, when I was approximately going to return, and so on. That was for every single thing I did, planned, or intended to do. I was fifteen years old and she was still acting as if nothing has changed.

And on top of that the way she usually looked contrasted completely with her personality: short brown hair, dark blue eyes, and a green Oryktia Crafting suit.

A real tomboy.

My dad, whose I inherited my dark skin, was almost the exact opposite of this behavior.

He considered me as a young and independent person who could think and act on his own like everyone else.

He was often away lately – more than usual –, trying to sell the product of his researches and show it to the world.

"And probably struggling to, considering he must be seen as an Ischy Beast instead of a proper scientist."

"Yeah... That would explain why he's so absent now. I kinda miss him."

I entered in my room and stood still for a couple of minutes. I liked the two additional elements to my personal realm. Besides the common wooden desk and bed, I had now a small bookcase where I could keep my collection of fairy tales and legends, as well as my Oryktia Science books.

But I was really proud of the other addition.

Just above my bed, hung to the wall, I could now easily take a look at my beloved weapons, the ones that I enjoyed crafting from the beginning to the end. They were a bit rusty, but I enjoyed the nostalgic feeling that emanated from them.

Fenom, my Smash Sword.

Vaoris, my Fire Wristband.

Vooqor, my Ice Necklace..

Shix, my Crushing Hammer.

And finally, Mojuko, my Stone Staff.

"And all created with the weirdest name coming from the weirdest imagination the world has yet to witness."

"Not weird DG: original! See it all with a bit of positivity, will ya?"

I actually didn't know how I came up with such names. It was impulsive.

I looked at my weapons one last time: I knew I would never see them again. If I wanted to craft Cyfer properly, I needed all of them as materials. This would be the hardest Oryktia Crafting task I ever had.

"Must stop wasting time and start already."

He was right. Hesitating was the best way to miss my chance.

I closed the door to my room and opened the other one next to the bookcase.

The door to my workshop.

Both mine and my parent's Oryktia workshops were in our respective rooms, in an underground place. It was always better to build it underground, because if accidents happened, the house wouldn't be affected. It had to be in a separate place.

I quickly passed the stairs leading to my workshop and, after installing my weapons in the big desk intended for this matter, closed my eyes to review my plan.

"First the weapon. Must visualize how it looks like."

I quickly created a mental image of it, its proportions and its form. I usually brought a drawing nearby, but I didn't want to damage it while crafting. I was venturing in an unknown territory.

"We perfectly know how it looks like now. We also have all the materials, as well as the Summoned Skills. Let's go DG. We're ready."

I pulled off my Oryktia Stone. My artifact was powerful enough to contain four weapons at a time. It was more than sufficient.

I wanted Cyfer to be an original weapon, a kind of weapon that nobody – at least in Rockenbor – used.

A mace.

Unfortunately I had no idea on how to use that kind of weapon, therefore I had to improvise and make it fit with my style using the materials I had.

Difficult task ahead.

"Downside of having constant weird ideas."

"Let me concentrate! And don't make me remind you all the good things I can get from my 'constant weird ideas'!"

I took another deep breath and began my work.

"I borrow the mighty energy of the world", I whispered.

My Oryktia Stone started to glow from the inside: it was the core of the Stone, where my weapons were residing. I had transferred my own life energy into the Oryktia Stone, in order to reach my weapons. The «place» looked like a complete void, with my weapons floating around me and a glowing sphere: the Stone's core.

"Nice and easy."

I approached my weapons and disassembled them methodically, parts by parts. I could of course do it without bothering going into my Stone, but if I wanted to shatter a weapon properly, I had to deal directly with its energetic center. In other words, shatter the energetic form of the weapon would allow me to deform it much easier and in a much more precise way than simply wreck it with a blacksmith hammer.

After a while – it was very hard to keep track of time when I was inside my stone –, I finished my work and gazed at the result. They were all sorted by parts depending on the weapon type: heads, shafts, hilts, pommels, edges, and so on.

"Going smoothly so far. Must proceed very carefully."

"I know. The difficult part starts here. It's so exciting!"

"..."

"Optimism, DG. It's called optimism."

I now had to create the energetic form of Cyfer, based on my weapon parts.

I once again called upon the mental image of my mace: it was time to work on it.

"I wouid like it to be as long as Mojuko was. It would be easier for me to control it and use its Summoned Skills."

"Slightly shorter would be better. It is a mace after all: need to remember its weight."

"True, I also need to use it swiftly. It would suit my fighting style."

I carefully chose the parts I needed and began to assemble my mace. It was a long and tiring process: I had to stay sharp and focused in order to keep my energy flow as stable as possible. It was hard to describe how this all worked, too. One day, the teacher from the Scafy Corner explained us that Energy was comparable to heat when it came to represent it, but similar to water when it came to manipulate it. It had many forms, and harness them was always hard to do. I still wanted to do it however.

For its physical form, I had to use Shix and Mojuko's parts – my hammer and my staff. They were certainly more adapted than the others and I rapidly crafted the shaft of the mace. It was the easiest part. Now I had to craft the head.

"Okay DG. We need a special feature for the head. What jewel should I use? The ice one or the fire one?"

"The keyword is 'mix'."

I almost lost my concentration. Now wasn't the time to laugh.

"Simple, yet genius at the same time! Thanks for backfiring my own line against me."

Grabbing my necklaces in one hand and the bracelet in the other, I took off their jewels and proceeded to combine them into one.

Each Oryktia weapon had to possess a special artifact that would «stock» a defined quantity of energy inside it. This energy will be used for Summoned Skills, in other words special incantations that'll allow the wielder to use his or hers weapon's abilities. It was commons for gems to be used as artifacts due to their natural beauty and power, but almost any object could fit for this, as long as the wielder knew how to harness the Energy in the right way. Once linked with the weapon it automatically became energetic as well.

I completely lost the notion of time. I had been crafting for hours now, but at least the head was ready. Once my mace's energetic form fully assembled, I came back from my Stone's core and summoned my weapon.

"From the depths of my soul, you are born." I started. "From my heart's passion, you subsist. And from the bottom of my imagination, you remain eternal. Come forth and dance alongside me! Cyfer!!"

With a magnificent metallic sound, the mace appeared in my hand.

I quickly noticed that it still had some flaws: the head's form wasn't as circular as I expect, and the shaft was slightly twisted. I had to finalize Cyfer's form with my blacksmith tools now.

"Nice result though. It was definitely a good idea."

"A compliment at last! I am deeply touched by your words, dear comrade."

I decided to finish my weapon without delay: I should probably take a little break, but I was too excited for such a waste of time. I also needed to test my weapon, rectify eventual – and highly probable – flaws concerning the Summoned Skills, create my new fighting pattern as well as my dramatic lines for my triumph.

A Pumpkin Smile appeared on my face.

Thrilling perspectives ahead!