Clank. Clank. Clank.

  The hammering of metal entered Tucker’s ears. Heat brushed against his skin as he took a step into the forge. The air thickened with the scent of smoke and hot metal. Inside the smithery, the forge roared at the heart of the room. Flames drifted upwards with the draft as sparks leaped and died against the metal anvil. Each step stole the gazes of the nearby blacksmiths. Their heartbroken and tired expressions landed on the young man as he made his way toward the center. Some took off their hats and held them to their chests, while others didn’t move a muscle.

  The steady rhythm of the hammer faded one after another as Tucker drew closer. Sweat clung to his skin. The sound of bellows breathing life into the flames filled the open space. Once he had crossed the halfway point, Thomas raised his head and stared at Tucker with a wide grin. He set his tools aside, standing in front of a large metal object that was the size of a ship’s hull.

  “Aye, just the man I was looking for!” Thomas said with a grin. He walked toward Tucker and grabbed his hand before shaking it. “I’ll be honest, when I first saw the design, I thought you were insane. But after creating this blasted thing, I can say to you, sir, have designed a work of art.”

  “I… did?” Tucker asked.

  “Mhm, you did. Come, let me show you,” Thomas gestured for him to follow. “You see, when I saw the design, I didn’t exactly understand why you wanted so many engravings, or how it would be done because there’s only so much real estate on the surface.”

  His hand grabbed onto a sheet of iron and held it before Tucker, revealing an intricately crafted engraving. “This is just one prototype, but from our initial tests, it’s possible to do what you want. We can create a base engraving behind one layer of metal, then add several others on top to amplify the effect.”

  “Right, but I’m sure the effect would only be temporary and the metal would warp,” Tucker said.

  “That’s correct, but then I realized something. You didn’t make your one-way design with the background knowledge we’ve obtained in our profession. You brought an interesting concept, and it’s our job to figure out the mechanics to make it work!”

  Tucker watched as Thomas excitedly struck his chest with his fist. The blacksmith’s grin widened. He tapped the back of the large rectangular shape, opening the entrance to the internal workings of the object. Before Tucker stood a frame like that of a rib cage supporting the iron coffin. In the center was a central load-bearing beam that ran from the prow to the rear. Throughout the entire area were harness lines anchored to ribs.

  “No one should stand once this thing breaches. It’ll wedge itself into whatever is on the other end, but it should do the job,” Thomas said. He stepped onto the metal container and stomped his left foot on the surface several times. The platform beneath his feet hardly moved. “We installed shock absorbers used for castle walls; it should help reduce the impact, but we haven’t really tested that yet.”

  Tucker couldn’t help but stare in awe. “And here I was worried that something had happened to you.”

  “What?” Thomas frowned. “What could have possibly happened to me?”

  “I don’t know, I just didn’t get any news from you, so I thought maybe you were caught in a predicament.”

  Laughter tore out of Thomas like a storm. He held his stomach before revealing a wide smirk. “If anything, I should be worried about you, Commander,” Thomas said. “We did our best to meet your requirements, but there were still some limitations that we couldn’t control.”

  Tucker stared at Thomas and raised a brow. “Such as?”

  “You’ll need someone to drive this thing. In fact, you’ll need someone to drive all of them."

  “Drive…? What do you mean?”

  Thomas gestured for Tucker to come to the front as he stepped out of the container. He guided the watchman to the prow of the iron coffin and turned away from it, tapping the surface with his bare knuckles.

  “This thing needs someone to help steer it. We tried to balance the weight, but because we needed to add the drawbridge at the front, it caused the entire thing to tip forward,” Thomas said.

  “How would someone drive this?” Tucker asked.

  “Well, if it’s being carried by wyverns, we figured you would be on top of it with other watchmen. If you have a few wind contractors at the front, you could use your essence to try to create an artifactual slipstream.”

  Tucker slowly nodded, but had no clue what Thomas meant. “You’re gonna have to explain this to me like I’m five,” he said.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Thomas furrowed his brow. He scratched the back of his head, rustling the strands of gray and black hair. Suddenly, an analogy came into his head. “Have you ever ridden a wyvern before?”

  “Once or twice, I guess, but I didn’t do it by myself,” Tucker replied. “I have a wyvern rider with me and I just sat in the back seat.”

  “That’s perfect, then you’ll definitely get this example.” Thomas grabbed two pieces of scrap and held them in each hand. He held the first piece. “This is you.” And then the second. “This would be the wyvern rider in front of you.”

  “I’m following.”

  “Okay, so since we’re both men, I’m pretty sure you held your hand out and felt the wind push it back, right?” Thomas asked.

  “Of course,” Tucker answered.

  “That force acting on your hand is what we call wind resistance. Because we don’t know how fast you’ll be going, we can’t accurately refine the stability of the object,” Thomas said, holding out the two metal pieces. “But if you were to have something move in front of the coffins, you could have that object create a slipstream where the air is calmer and offers less resistance.”

  “I see… then it would make it easier to control,” Tucker replied.

  “Exactly, this would allow you to use less power while maintaining your speed.”

  “Which would also make it a smoother ride for those inside.”

  Thomas nodded with a weary smile. “I… feel like I shouldn’t need to tell you this, but what you’re doing is highly dangerous,” he said quietly.

  Silence settled over the forge as Thomas and the other blacksmiths turned their attention to him. Their soot-stained hands rested on their workbenches, fingers curled near the ends of their tools. All of them had reviewed the designs to the best of their capabilities, providing every bit of their expertise to the creation. But it didn’t require years of experience to understand its purpose.

  This wasn’t like forging a blade, a desperate weapon used to fight with one’s life on the line.

  It was a creation that would lead them to their deaths. One that was meant to be entered with no return.

  “I know, but this is something we have to do,” Tucker replied with a smile. He patted Thomas’s shoulder as the man’s gaze dropped. “You’ve done far more than I could’ve possibly asked for, and you shouldn’t feel bad for what you created.”

  “But must you really force a path where none exists? Isn’t there another way for you to overcome this trial?” He pleaded.

  Tucker stood there, thinking for a moment. He glanced at his hands, noticing that the trembling had long since vanished. Now that they were approaching the mission’s deadline, his fears seemed to have vanished. For what reason? He didn’t know. All he knew was that as the reality of the situation drew near, he had made peace with whatever outcome awaited him.

  “We’ve gone through every possible path. I’ve arranged meetings with technicians, talked to strategic advisors who I could trust for advice,” Tucker said with a steady voice. “I couldn’t tell them the finer details, but on a high level, they understood the danger. And trust me when I say this, but this really is the only way.”

  “What could be so important that you would throw away your life like this?” Thomas gritted his teeth and drove his fist into a nearby workbench. The wooden frame splintered, breaking in half as he cursed. “You have so much to live for, and you know that!”

  Tucker didn’t argue back because he knew Thomas was right. Life held greater promise for him and his companions. If he could, if he didn’t need their help, then he would have sent them all home. But that wasn’t the case, no matter how much he wished for it.

  “What would you do if you saw a weapon that could kill everyone you loved, everyone you cared about in the blink of an eye?” Tucker asked softly.

  Thomas and the other blacksmiths kept their mouths shut.

  “That’s what we saw,” Tucker added. “I saw something that would wipe our nation off the face of Arcadia, and after seeing that, how could I just sit back and do nothing when I know where they’re storing it?”

  He stared at all the surrounding blacksmiths. “Tell me, is there another way?” he asked with a voice that didn’t waver. “Is there a way for me to protect those I care about without sending them to their deaths? Or am I just damning them because I can’t find a better answer?”

  None of them replied, as they finally understood the weight that rested on Tucker’s shoulders. The crackle of flames from the forge cried out in the silent halls, knowing that even now nothing would change the young watchman’s mind. Nothing would prevent the tragedy about to unfold like a story that had already been written.

  Finally, Thomas stood forth and broke the silence. “I… truly wish you the best, Commander,” he said as the light in his eyes softened. “I don’t envy your position, but you have my word that we’ll deliver on these designs. That we’ll forge it to the best of our capabilities, even if we need to stay until the sun rises beyond the horizon.”

  Thomas’s words didn’t bring any relief. They only sealed the moment.

  The other blacksmiths lowered their gazes upon hearing Tucker’s words. Some nodded faintly, others turning back toward the forge without a word. They raised their hammers as the metal face struck the surface of their anvils. Leather aprons were tightened. Gloves were pulled on. And the bellows groaned once more as someone set them in motion, bringing a blaze back into the embers of the forge.

  No more questions followed, nor did any protests rise.

  Instead, only silence remained, not with uncertainty but with a determination that burned brighter than the flames of the furnace.

  Tucker felt it right there and then. This wasn’t his burden alone anymore. He had spread it and laid it across their shoulders. The weight of a world he didn’t understand was now shared between them, and they had accepted it without asking him to carry theirs in return.

  They weren’t the men taking part in the operation, but they were the ones supporting it from the shadows. Every fiber of their being was driven by a desire to see it succeed. To hear news of their comrades’ triumphant victory in the face of overwhelming odds. If the mission were to fail, it wouldn’t be because of them. That was the only thing they could guarantee.

  As iron was fed to the flame and sparks began to dance, Tucker gave a curt nod to Thomas, thanking him for everything he had done before turning away. He didn’t need to watch the forging continue. He already knew how this would end and placed his faith in the men of his homeland.

  Metal rang against metal behind him, each strike sounding less like craftsmanship and more like a countdown. The hammering continued, marking the steady approach of a fate none of them could now escape. Yet faced with such odds, Tucker smiled, knowing that the ones who would help him break it were right by his side.