Mythshaper - Chapters 73 & 74

Chapter 73: Influential Artifact

The new piece had similar enchantments to the painting I made for Mum, but instead of Mental Rehabilitation, the painting of the elven woman, Veiled Dream, seemed to confuse the observer within its illusions. Although its power was weak, barely keeping a low-class Awakened imprisoned for a few minutes, it baffled me how this enchantment came to be.

Mum’s words came to mind, that an artisan’s emotions and mood played a great role in shaping their craft. It usually never happened to me while crafting common fabricators, and yet the two paintings I had made possessed a function I hadn’t even intended for.

“I have studied it all my life and am still not proficient in channelling it,” Mum said, patting my head. Her eyes darted to the new painting, considering. “Is this Saint Irielle you drew?”

Instead of answering, I asked, “Who is Saint Irielle?”

Magus Prisca was bemused at my question. “You don’t know who Saint Irielle is, so how did you draw her?”

I could only shrug, unsure if the elven woman I had drawn was even the saint they were pointing at.

Thankfully, there was someone to answer my question. Surprisingly, it was my father.

According to him, Saint Irielle was a legendary figure who led the war against the Dreadlords two thousand years ago. Back then, the fairies used to walk the earth with humans, and fought together for the future of our race, the future we are living now.

“I have seen grand statues of her,” Father had said. "All of them possessed that regal aloofness typical of the faires, a demeanour far removed from the warm, homely feel of your painting, which was why I wasn't even sure if it was Saint Irielle you drew."

Is she alive? I wondered, though I could already guess the answer. A legendary figure’s lifespan stretched to around five centuries, unless she’d advanced to Mythic class. . .

The very thought sent a quivering ache through my chest.

"Well, it still is a fine piece," said Magus Prisca. "Isn't that right, Iris?" 

Her apprentice nodded along. 

I had made the painting with the thought of giving it to Iris, but now I wasn’t quite sure about parting with it. I gave her excuse after excuse: that the image was unsettling to look at, it wasn’t good enough, or that I’d paint her something finer.

She didn't seem to mind at all, which made it worse. It was my idea to offer her a gift. But whether she needed my art or not mattered little compared to what they really came for.

Primarily, the Dreamweaver’s goal was to have Mother craft something that would allow Iris to see, if possible. She could already see, in a way, just that it was more than what folks normally see. She could peer into the weaves and all the mysteries of essence, perhaps as clearly as I could. But what she needed wasn’t some mythical, heaven-piercing eyes, but ordinary sight, the plain, mundane vision mortals were born with.

Magus Prisca hadn’t held much hope. She was well over a hundred years old and, while not a crafter, she had heard things, seen things, and had a good idea what was possible and what wasn’t.

They say, with Aether, the possibilities were boundless. I wasn’t quite sure if that was merely a lie or if it was the limit of human potential that kept us from approaching the infinite.

Mum surely thought it was the latter. So she wasn't dismissive about the proposal, even though she didn't have a solution for it yet. Her answer was simply, "I need to study more."

It might be solved within days, if lucky. It could have taken months, or even seasons, she wasn’t sure. But one thing she was sure of was that it wasn’t as hopeless as the old woman thought it to be.

"Well, in the meantime, Iris can train her Influence to be sharper than the eyes," the old crone said, as though trying to console herself. "Her sight will recover if she manages to reach the Fabled class. But that’s going to take years."

She let out a weary sigh, wrinkled face full of regret. Her apprentice, however, showed only the barest flicker of emotion, as if they were discussing someone else’s business. Perhaps she’d already given up. After all, one sought specialist healers for cases like this, not crafters. They had come to Mum as a last resort, having exhausted all viable options.

According to Magus Prisca, the earlier healings had worked fine for a time, allowing Iris to see. But the darkness returned, worse each time, until no treatments were enough. The toll it had taken on the girl’s mind I could barely imagine.

A look of tenderness came to Mum’s eyes as she crouched beside Iris, cupping the girl’s hands.

"I will do my best to find a solution for you. For now..." She paused, and a stream of essence flowed from the gemmed bracelet on her wrist. A moment later, an object shimmered into view. "For now, you can have this."

It was a thick-rimmed monocle with a silver chain and a blue-tinted glass.

"It won’t restore your sight, but it can amplify your Influence to a Fabled-class Shaper's domain."

Iris put it over her left eye, tentatively trying to awaken its power.

"I used to have it on forever when I was in the prestigious class. Just connect a few of your essence threads and allow your Influence to flourish through it."

While Iris figured out its mechanism, I took a closer look at the object. It wasn’t a top-tier artifact, not even to my [Band of Protection] level, but the craftsmanship required to shape something so delicate, so compact, was mindboggling.

It held sixty-four essences, woven through with a barely visible rune carved along its silver chain.

The spell reorganised what I detected and promptly translated it into simpler terms:

Artifact: Monocle of Influence
Grade: Fabled
Durability: 98/125
Description: A monocle designed to channel the high consciousness of a higher-class Shaper.

Enchantments:

• Life Sense: Detects life forms within the wearer’s immediate surroundings.

• Influence Domain: Elevates a Shaper's influence into a sensory field where the wearer is omniscient.

• Domain Expansion: Increases the radius of influence by 40%.

• Restoration: Restores damage at the expense of essence.

My eyes bulged at the functions. To think it could boost one of the very fundamental abilities of the Shapers. It further confirmed my ideas of not investing more points into Influence.

But of course, all was not sunshine and rainbows. Such high function would also require a high cost, and it wasn’t just essence in all cases. I was certain the monocle drew tirelessly on the Will for the domain function to work. 

Still, this was arguably the most ingenious piece of craftsmanship I had glimpsed in my short life.

As I finished examining it, Iris’s eyes fluttered open, her pearly irises gleaming faintly as her Influence spread outwards. She gasped, her palm trembling as it reached for her mentor’s, a single teardrop slid from the corner of her eye.

“Grandma,” she reached out towards her wrinkly face.

The elder woman pulled the little girl into her arms. She knew it wasn’t quite exactly like her eyesight returning, but more like a distinctive skill which let her detect things in her surroundings in fine detail, perhaps even more than a normal set of eyes could. And yet, it wasn’t like seeing through your own eyes, feeling every shade of colour, the light reflecting off objects.

While the monocle was no miracle cure, it was enough to transform how she perceived the world. But such an artifact had to be wielded with care.

Once Magus Prisca set her free, Iris turned to Mum. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you.”

“Give me some time, and I’ll remodel it to look like common glasses, so it won’t look weird to go around wearing it.” Mum smiled and pinched Iris’s cheeks, which weren’t as chubby as mine, not that I was feeling jealous. Iris was as skinny as a stick.

"This already solves half our problem," said the Dreamweaver, clearly more at ease. "Shall we draw the same contract for it as with the bell?"

Mum agreed readily.

"Now, that leaves me with another thing," the woman said, her gaze flicking to the gemmed bracelet nestled on Mum’s wrist. "Can you make more of those storage devices? I’ve wanted to get one for ages, but those shrewd businessmen always put me on the waiting list."

Mum tilted her head. “I’m actually surprised you don’t have one.”

“Well, it’s like one of those things,” Magus Prisca sighed. “When I had a dire need for it, I couldn’t afford it. And now that I can, it’s not as important. But not long ago, I chanced upon a piece of Blessed stone while clearing out my late husband's stuff. Can you believe it? That old bloke had a sizeable piece of one of the rarest, most sought-after materials, and thought it was merely a strange purple stone.”

Saying that, she reached into the folds of her gown and fished out an uncut purple gem as big as her thumb.

Mum’s expression changed. She took the gem, studying it with undivided attention. “Not the highest grade I’ve seen, but you could buy ten farms with it and still have wealth to spend.”

“See how crucial education is?” said the old crone, a grin lighting up her dreary face. "Never neglect your studies, Iris.”

The girl nodded along, though she was more interested in the new monocle.

There seemed to be something special in the purple gem that obstructed my Fractal sight from perceiving its inner composition. Well, I knew about Blessed stone and its uses, though I had never had the fortune of experimenting on it before. With a focused push of my Influence and a set of essence threads, my eyes pierced into the stone. Inside, it was pure darkness. Unlike Father’s sword, which incessantly drained my spirituality, the stone had no such reaction, and even the void within seemed limited.

Blessed stone wasn’t a versatile material like Hollow stones, but that didn’t make it any less valuable. The value came from its rarity, and it was the only proven material that could be used in the creation of storage devices with vastly expansive inner space.

Like the tiny purple shards tucked into Mum’s bracelet, within it was stored several cubic metres of space. Moreover, forging a storage device from one of these stones was simpler than crafting a full-fledged artifact, though both were still beyond my current capabilities.

"This should be enough to make two or three storage devices, correct?" the Magus asked. "I only need one with a sizeable space. You can keep the rest as payment."

Well, as far as I knew, it wasn’t quite that simple, but neither I nor Mum corrected her. After all, it was rare to come across Blessed stones, let alone someone offering one as payment.

Seeing Mum stow away the gem, she asked, "So when can I expect the delivery?"

Mum considered for a moment. "Stay the night. You’ll have both your storage device and the glasses for Iris by morning."

It was already late afternoon, anyway. Without flying all the way back, they’d find no other option for making a return journey at this hour.

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Chapter 74: Spatial Storage

Since the guests would be staying the night, I had enough time to finish another proper rune painting for Iris. I just needed some time to think about it, draw out the schema, and then manufacture inspiration and work tirelessly for a couple of hours—and bang, we’d have another showpiece. No pressure.

Thankfully, I got a good sparring session with Father to get the creative juice flowing. Obviously, I was struck by his stick more often, having my mind fixed on a different problem, but my bracelet helped me escape all the blows. It couldn’t solve any of the chiding, however.

Diana came for the afternoon study and kept Iris company. Iris’s mood had lifted considerably since her arrival, even her confidence seemed to rise along with her ability to manipulate her Influence, though I couldn’t claim anything about her conversation skills. Even with someone of the same sex and around the same age, she was as dry as a sun-cursed log.

No matter how Diana tried to engage her, Iris only responded with slight nods, speaking only when absolutely necessary. During all that, I noticed a domain of Influence flickering about the house many times.

Before I returned to my sketching, I once again had to entertain her, under the collective pressure of Mum and Magus Prisca. Well, I did learn more about the Dreamweaver path. I’d known that dream essence enhanced mental faculties and allowed one to enter the dream realm, and even weave dreams to their design.

But that wasn’t all. Iris could weave most of the elements of nature as I could. Her weaves weren’t like anything I had ever seen. It wasn’t something completely unique or complex, but to implement elemental forces with her silver essence threads, she was required to put a lot behind her spellworks.

Most of them felt like mirrored spells, replicating the elements. She could even mimic healing spells. While not as potent as those wielded by real menders with the Dawn essence, it was still extremely useful.

I couldn’t help but wonder if all Dreamweavers could manage such feats, or if it was due to her unique gift.

Without trying to be too nosy about it, I challenged her to a weave battle. Apparently, she hadn’t even heard of what it was, much less practised it.

But the rules were simple enough, and Iris was a rare genius. Despite being terrible at it at first, she absorbed all the lessons like an unused scrub. She could barely keep up in the first few rounds, relying on her superior class. But with the ability to see weaves clearly, she learned all my tricks and ploys in no time. She even implemented them with more Weight to defeat me at my own game.

But of course, my own self-esteem wouldn’t allow me to give up so easily. While she was a natural at the game, Iris lacked a cunning instinct. She only employed my own ploys against me, which made it easier for me to fool her. I would simply implement some half-baked strategy, and she’d mimic me without a thought.

The look of profound befuddlement on her face after the crashing defeat was a sight to behold.

Thankfully, she wasn’t too slow either, or it would’ve been boring to play with her. Once she learned she couldn’t simply win through sheer force, she put more effort into her weaves. She seemed to enjoy it more, too.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t go all out against her, as I had the heavy work left undone.

Leaving her to her own devices, I locked myself at my desk to draft new schemas for the painting. I came up with a few ideas, a couple of them were even good, though none of them held the same emotional value as my other two paintings.

I showed them all to Iris, describing each one in detail as I asked which she preferred. Among them were schematics of an ashhound, a crimson oracle tree, scenic views of the Candor Mountains, and even a portrait concept of hers.

Iris’s fingers drew across the paper, pausing at the crimson tree. She didn’t even look at the other papers and handed it to me.

However, just when I was beginning to ready myself for the work, I saw Mum and Magus Prisca heading to the workshop to complete the artifact commission. There was no way I’d miss a chance like this, even if I had to pull an all-nighter.

I rushed after them. "Can I observe, please?"

So far, she had deliberately kept me out whenever she crafted an artifact. But she’d once promised to let me watch next time. 

Mum’s gaze flicked toward Iris. "Shouldn’t you be making the painting for Iris?"

My resolve wavered, though only by a little. "I can do it later," I said eagerly. 

"Hmm, there’s no harm in that," she finally gave in. "Though I suspect it may be a bit dull for the non-crafters. Thankfully, a spatial storage shouldn’t take me a long time."

With that, the four of us descended into the underground workshop.

Mum explained that crafting a storage device was relatively straightforward compared to all the artifacts she had ever created. Only a few layers of runes were needed to make the Blessed stone function as a Spatial Storage. However, that was the minimum requirement, and it wouldn’t last more than a few years of use, on top of the limited utility.

But if she could input a few essence threads, its durability would increase dramatically, enough to last decades, if not centuries.

“What happens when the device’s durability runs out?” I asked. “I mean, what happens to the items stored inside?”

Mum blinked, and even the old Magister appeared curious about the question. Only Iris was unresponsive, monocle still on her left eye. She hadn’t removed it once since she’d first put it on, keeping her Influence extended just enough to be aware of everything around her. She seemed only curious about how to implement it more effectively.

“Hah, that’s not something I’ve ever witnessed,” Mum said with a chuckle. “People usually have their fabricators repaired before they become metal scraps, but if a storage device shatters, I could hypothesise several things occurring. The best outcome—and the highest probability of happening—would definitely be the Blessed stone shattering and exploding all the items out.

“But we can’t rule out the possibility of all the items imploding into nothing, or being lost into the void. If not for Blessed stones being rare and expensive, perhaps we could’ve run some experiments with them.”

Mum shook her head in resignation and got to work. The old woman preferred a ring to a bracelet. Mum had only fashioned hers as a bracelet because it served other purposes besides simple storage.

After shaping the Blessed stone and adorning it into a silver ring, Mum released her soulward to make the work faster.

Shimmering golden letters burst into being, swirling around her palm. Under her control, their composition changed a few times before she found the right sequence and drove them all into the ring.

All that took was barely a few seconds. I barely recognised the Stabilisation and Restoration formations she carved into the gem, mostly because of how swiftly she worked and how complex the runes that came out of her soulward were in composition. Furthermore, she wasn’t using any runelines or the octagonal form.

Dozens upon dozens of micro-runes sank into the gem in a string of golden light. When she was finally done with that, she lifted her head, her irises glowing with a golden gleam.

"Now I will require a few essence threads," she said, turning to the elderly woman.

"How many?"

"Eight is the bare minimum," Mum said. "Sixty-four if you ever wanted it to be a relic, but to have all its functions work perfectly and swiftly, thirty-two would do."

"Even with sixty-four threads, only Nayan knows how many other conditions need to be met to transform it into a relic," the Magus replied. “Let’s settle it at thirty-two.”

She shut her eyes, and from her finger, fine strands of essence bloomed like silk threads unravelling in the air. Then she began plucking the threads one by one, her wrinkled face seeming even older in pain.

"Blasted gods, it’s still as agonising," she said. The thirty-two essence threads floated towards Mum, their silver shimmer dimmed almost instantly, deprived of their source. But it wasn’t the essence itself that mattered, but the structure of the thread.

Under Mum’s deft weaving, she enchanted the threads. The cool silver gradually shifted into a warm golden yellow before she designed the weave. I paid close attention to the patterns, storing them away in memory. It might come in useful one day.

As she worked, Mum spoke in her usual unhurried tone.

"Blessed stone has the natural ability to absorb and store physical objects. The problem lies in retrieving them. The runes were enough to stabilise its chaotic composition, and the threads empowered that. But that wasn’t all they did. Without the essence threads, the storage would act in a one-way line. You’d have to dump everything out to retrieve an item.

"There’s no option to choose just one item in the more archaic model. But with a few essence threads, all that can be changed. Not only that, a mindful magus could even programme the threads to appoint certain items, which could be retrieved with just a turn of their essence threads. It might not sound like much, but in a moment of life and death, even a feature as simple as this could save a life."

That made sense to my ears. What might sound complicated to outsiders was actually a careful consideration from the maker.

Imagine being in the middle of a battle, on your last breath. All you need is a healing potion to save yourself, and you have it within your storage device. But there are also dozens of other vials, tools, charms, foods, clothes, and miscellaneous other articles. You could not simply pull out everything and search on your last breath. You’d be dead twice over before you even found the right vial. That’s why it needed to be a bit more complicated.

"Here you go, Magister," Mum said, handing the newly-crafted artifact to the woman.

Everything from start to finish didn’t even take half an hour, but that wasn’t the standard for artificing. It was only possible because Mum was crazily skilled, and Blessed stone didn’t need much moulding or refinement.

"It has about ten cubic metres of space, and more pre-programmed slots than you’ll ever need.” Mum paused. “Oh, if you want a certification or appraisal, you can visit any of the artificer guilds out there. I can write one too, but you’d still need to get it approved by the guild."

"No need," the old woman chuckled. "Certifications are only necessary for selling it, and I didn’t plan on selling it. Even when I don’t have a need for it, I would pass it on to my apprentices."

"Now, for the rest of the hollow stones," Mum murmured, turning her gaze to the leftover gems laid out on the table. Her eyes shifted to me. "Pumpkin, do you want a spatial storage?"

I almost said yes on instinct, but caught myself in time. I remembered the essence threads required in its crafting and wavered. Even if they were only a handful, I didn’t want Mum stripping them away just for my sake.

She seemed to notice the hesitation, and perhaps meant to reassure me. But before she could speak, my eyes drifted to the [Band of Protection] wrapped at my wrist.

"Can you artifice the gem into the bracelet?" I asked. That would solve all the issues, wouldn’t it? She merely needed to reorganise a few of the essence threads to add the spatial function. 

Mum hummed thoughtfully. "It’s possible. But I’m not sure if I should. That artifact of yours holds a high potential to become a relic. Tinkering with it might introduce variables."

"Shouldn’t a Blessed stone increase the chances?" asked the Mistweaver. "Considering its origin?"

"What origin?" I asked, turning to her.

The old crone exchanged a brief glance with Mum before answering, "Well, for one thing, they’re not of our world. Blessed stone can only be found within rifts, and even there, they’re exceedingly rare. They were also used in the Waygates."

Mum deliberated over it for a long while. "Well, let’s leave that matter for another day. Come now, it’s time for dinner."

Mum had made chicken curry along with a few vegetable side dishes and bread. Nothing grand, but meat was still a rare treat in our home. Livestock were hard to come by in the fringes of the empire, just like apples. Mum had an agreement with a fruit seller to deliver fresh apples once a week from the nearest farm.

Of course, there had been a shortage throughout the autumn, and even now the price had shot a few times over.

After dinner, I finally returned to my painting, or more precisely, to carving runes into the canvas. This time, I worked with even greater care, involving an even more intricate rune composition, perhaps trying to compensate for my earlier error.

But despite all my efforts, it didn’t come out quite as soulful as my other two pieces. It was still striking to look at, imbued with a soothing aura and the enchantment to repair damage.

The Spell named it Emberleaf, and it was of the same grade as my other two paintings.

Yet I couldn’t put it above the painting I had made for Mum. Veiled Dream lacked the refinement or complexity compared to Emberleaf, and yet that very simplicity elevated it in my mind, having a more visceral vibe about it.

But in truth, all of them—even the ones I failed miserably—were pieces born from the same place.

It was my longing for the world. And maybe, my desire to create something lasting.

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