"She is," the former-Mer confirmed between strikes of the hammer, and though his expression remained focused with concentration on his work there was a slight lift to his chin of pride at the compliment to his mother. The question that followed immediately on its heels, however, was met initially with silence as Hadama took extra care with shaping the curve of the blade in the last seconds that it remained hot enough to work.
As he switched the rough blades out so that he could temper the first and refine it to its final form he spoke again. "Forging underwater is more difficult," he explained as he hammered away with precise strokes. "It requires full mastery of water and air. And great strength. Landforging, using fire, is much more difficult for a Mer, but requires no magic. Any human can learn it, with training." Or any Ancient, or even a Mer who grew legs during a full moon, for that matter.
He waited patiently while she weighed her own answer, hammering on first one blade and then the other until they took on recognizable form, clean-edged and sleek even beneath their patina of char. When she found her voice he nodded acknowledgment as he quenched the blades in oil. "Mmh. Do you have a favored port?"
This time he did not return the knives to the forge but set them aside and moved to crack the molds on the guards. They had cooled enough to lift out bare-handed, and he measured them against the tangs of the blades as he chose a file. While they continued to speak he set to work on the central holes in the discs of metal so that they would fit snugly down to the shoulder of the blades.
As he switched the rough blades out so that he could temper the first and refine it to its final form he spoke again. "Forging underwater is more difficult," he explained as he hammered away with precise strokes. "It requires full mastery of water and air. And great strength. Landforging, using fire, is much more difficult for a Mer, but requires no magic. Any human can learn it, with training." Or any Ancient, or even a Mer who grew legs during a full moon, for that matter.
He waited patiently while she weighed her own answer, hammering on first one blade and then the other until they took on recognizable form, clean-edged and sleek even beneath their patina of char. When she found her voice he nodded acknowledgment as he quenched the blades in oil. "Mmh. Do you have a favored port?"
This time he did not return the knives to the forge but set them aside and moved to crack the molds on the guards. They had cooled enough to lift out bare-handed, and he measured them against the tangs of the blades as he chose a file. While they continued to speak he set to work on the central holes in the discs of metal so that they would fit snugly down to the shoulder of the blades.
