Chương 141: Chapter 114: The Braces Remember

I woke with one cheek against the forge floor and one hand curled near the ash rake, as though I had fallen asleep preparing to defend the drying fire from anyone willing to cross an empty room for it. The coals had settled into a red seam beneath the grate, weak enough that the new brick no longer clicked but strong enough to keep the mortar warm beneath my palm. Morning light entered through the unfinished roof and cut across the furnace wall. My coat had folded under one shoulder.

The bandage around my ribs had dried to the shirt wherever the previous day reopened it, and Ironheart Body spread the pain through my back and hips when I pushed upright. The ability turned one sharp failure into several smaller ones without reducing the amount my body intended to collect. The forge smelled of damp clay, charcoal, and the darker sweetness released by the demon-hide bellows whenever warmth reached its red channels.

The material had contracted through the night without tearing and now sat taut between the Ironwood boards, while the frost-boar bellows sagged slightly beside it. Halden had told me not to add fuel after he left. The two half-burned pieces beneath the charcoal recorded how well the instruction survived his absence. No hammer sounded outside. The road remained empty, the spear racks beside the storehouse had been cleared, and three handcarts were missing from their usual places.

Fresh grooves ran south from the town, one deep enough to show that a brake stone had dragged through the mud. Fen sat beside the beastbone kitchen with his injured arm close to his body and a broom across his knees. He looked at the dried blood along my side before answering.

"Where is everyone?" I asked.

"South farms. Beastkin crossed before dawn."

"How many?"

"Enough for Lysa to take the water cart. Wade took the repair line. Halden went because the timber crossing broke under one wheel."

"Talvek?" Fen looked towards the Cataract rather than the road.

"Did not see him." The answer should have mattered more immediately, but the tracks outside Dunmere divided where farm paths crossed the southern road. Following the wrong line would spend the ribs before I reached anyone who needed another injured fighter, and no one had woken me because every person capable of making the decision knew the condition Bellan had left me in. Their reasoning held. That made it harder to forgive. I returned to the forge and read Halden's notes from the board beside the furnace.

The left bellows hinge needed another Iron pin. The secondary vent required widening by half a finger after full heating. The roof braces required no structural work, which left them as the only part of the building I could change without pretending I knew where the beastkin had gone. The western brace rose from the river-side post towards the central beam. I sat on the work stool, placed a carving knife against the grain, and waited until Wood Charmcraft translated resistance into direction.

Ironwood retained the pressure of its growth after cutting, turning load around knots and closing behind shallow wounds. A pattern that ignored those paths would remain decoration laid over structure. I carved the Greywash first. Narrow lines entered through broken ground, widened as they climbed the brace, and divided around knots before joining again. Jagged stone broke the current north and south of Dunmere, while the centre held a ferry rope stretched between banks. The boat required only three cuts.

The Iron hook securing the rope took longer because the crossing depended less on the vessel than the thing stopping the river from owning it. The opposite brace became the road south. Wheel ruts climbed from the floor beneath hooves, boots, claws, and one dragged line too heavy to lift. Each mark narrowed between river and broken ground until every traveller passed through the same small space. I carved no wall. Dunmere's geography forced danger through the town more reliably than its palisade had.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Appraisal moved across each surface while I worked: Ironwood grain, peg wear, heat spread from the furnace, the Copper hinge plates, the frost-boar leather, the demon hide, and the shallow crack near the quench trench. The ability still required deliberate focus, but repeated use began joining obvious provenance with function rather than offering isolated labels.

ABILITY ADVANCED Appraisal has advanced from Iron (early) to Iron (mid). You can now identify basic rank, quality, wear, simple function, and obvious material provenance with reduced focus cost. Deeper readings still require direct attention, suitable access, and sufficient familiarity. The advancement restored none of the Copper understanding I had abandoned. It made the forge easier to inspect and the poor trade harder to deny. The brace above the future bar racks became Eisenfeld.

Broken planes of stone filled the lower section without symmetry, while thin seams moved through them and emerged as carts, bars, brackets, hinges, axe heads, and the broad bridge plate Halden had drawn into three plans. A sword remained near the edge, smaller than the tools. Metal spent most of its value before anyone tried to kill with it. The fourth brace stood beside the furnace and carried the deepest damage, a dark scar crossing three knots where Ironwood Strike had bitten too far during cutting.

Hiding it would have required removing sound timber, so I deepened the line into a split trunk whose roots wrapped around old stones. A small axe rested among the roots. Above it, I carved the uneven bird charm from memory, one wing heavier than the other. I could not carve Orven's face without choosing which version grief had altered least. His coat hung from one branch by the shoulder, with the curve of a hand resting against the trunk beneath it. Anyone else would see clothing left in a tree.

The absence carried the part I could not cut. The knife opened my thumb while I shaped the cuff. Blood followed the groove and vanished into the Ironwood before I could wipe it away. The Heartwood Bird warmed once against my chest, but the brace showed no stain and no system notice explained whether the material had accepted anything beyond the cut. I continued across the bellows frame, carving rounded channels around the slower frost-boar hide and sharper lines around the demon material.

Its buried red paths tightened at angles under compression, so I cut the wood to contain the movement without copying it. The quench trench received waves broken by falling sparks. The charcoal bay showed split timber losing shape as it approached the furnace. By midday, the forge had begun holding its own account. River, road, mine, tree, hide, heat, and impact travelled through the grain according to the work each surface performed.

Wood Charmcraft no longer treated the carvings as separate objects laid over the building. The frame itself had become the worked material. ABILITY ADVANCED Wood Charmcraft has advanced from Copper (mid) to Copper (late). You can now bind simple charm behaviours into larger worked structures when grain, joint, material, and purpose align. Heat, smoke, vibration, stale air, and pressure change may serve as narrow triggers.

Large works remain dependent on sound construction and can fail through damage, poor material, or conflicting functions. The ability showed where the frame could hold warnings without turning the forge into a collection of charms nobody could maintain. A smoke-darkening line entered the doorway brace. Heat spread along the furnace-side carving before reaching the post. A shallow pressure mark around the bellows hinge would deepen if the pin began shifting under repeated use.

I ate dry bread from the bench because someone had left it there before the raid. Memory supplied several ways broth or heat could have made it worth eating. Basic Cooking supplied nothing. The crust broke into the carvings, and I brushed the crumbs from the road south before they settled inside the ruts. The lower wall panel took the remaining afternoon. Herds travelled north in layered bands, deer and boars ahead, long-bodied foxes between them, and heavier shapes behind.

Foxkin moved among the animals with horns, staffs, and ropes. Some faced the road. Others looked back towards something I left outside the panel, because invasion and flight could share the same tracks until someone survived long enough to ask why they had been made. Near the lower edge, I carved a woman carrying a child against one shoulder while leading a ranked beast with the other hand. The figures were small enough that anyone crossing the work floor would see only movement unless they chose to stand close.

The final section showed Dunmere without copying its present damage: Cataract, ferry rope, fields, forge, and empty ground left for buildings that had not yet earned timber. Preserving every broken roof would have mistaken the attack for the town. The first returning cart announced itself through a damaged wheel. Each rotation dropped one side into the road groove and struck the axle housing with a measured knock that travelled ahead of the people pulling it.