[DanMachi/Percy Jackson] Prytaneum

Chapter 20: Enlightenment part 1

I left early in the morning, long before Hestia woke up, and left the ribbon beside her bed. Hestia had fallen asleep before updating my Status, but I didn't intend to go to the Dungeon today, so I figured it was fine. As for why I left so early...well, it was more like I'd just never gotten to sleep in the first place, so as soon as the sky began to lighten, I gave up and decided to go out.

...It's not like I was embarrassed to give Hestia the ribbon in person or anything. Well, maybe a little. Or a lot. But that wasn't why I decided to leave so early. I mean, I was all but certain that she'd like it, so there wasn't anything to really be nervous about, and I wanted to see her reaction, too—but at the same time, the questions that had plagued me all night were resounding in my head now and I wanted to answer them as quickly as possible. With any luck, I'd make it back to the Church before Hestia even left.

But for the time being, I headed straight for Welf's workshop, following the path he'd led me on the day before and knocking on the door. A part of me wondered what I was doing and why I thought Welf would even be working this early, but on my third knock I heard a voice from within and soon the door opened.

"Hey," Welf said, blinking at me. "You're early today, Percy. Do you need something? I'm still not done with your armor if that's what you're after."

"It's not that," I said and a night without sleep didn't keep me from shifting back and forth. "Do you have a minute?"

"Sure," He said, still looking confused, but readily stepping aside to let me in. "What do you need?"

"I want to show you something," I said. "Do you, uh...do you have any thread lying around?"

"Thread?" He repeated, furrowing his eyebrows before nodding and moving to take something from one of the shelves and toss it to me. "You tear something? I can help you sew it back together, if you need me too."

"Might not hurt to have you show me how to do that at some point," I said. "But...well, just watch."

Taking a deep breath, I shucked off my shirt, the same one I'd crudely sewn back together the night before. Without even needing to glance at it, I called water from the tub Welf kept near the fire, spreading a curtain of droplets through the air before me. Several of them gathered around the thread, while others did so around the needle I'd brought with me, and I quickly connected the two.

Then, I closed my eyes and tried to remember the feeling from last night, of the things I'd wanted to say to Hestia and the small miracle I'd asked for. I focused on it as hard as I could, thinking of what had happened, and calling out to it in my mind—and abruptly heard Welf draw a quick breath. When I opened my eyes, the water droplets were all glowing faintly blue and the color quickly began to spread across the thread where they touched. In moments, the entire thing glowed, and I quickly brought the needle to my shirt, the surface seeming to ripple with the first touch.

In that moment, I put everything else aside, casting Welf and the workshop from my mind. Here, there was only me and my work, the thread and the mysterious power I could feel flowing through it. I guided the thread in strange patterns, shifting the cloth, suffusing it, continuing on and on until my thread ran dry. Once again, it didn't seem as though I'd added anything to the shirt; I hadn't lengthened it or anything like that, despite all the work I'd done. Instead, it seemed as though I'd remade it. All signs of wear and tear were gone as if nothing had ever happened, but more than that, where the shirt had once been simple black cloth, it was now a shimmering, perfect blue.

I looked up at Welf, holding up the shirt as if it would somehow explain everything, and found him staring at me—or rather, at my work—in wonder.

"When did you level up?" He asked me, eyes flicking up to meet mine. "When you asked before, I'd thought about it, but...to have reached Level 2 in less than two weeks...I couldn't believe it."

I licked my lips and shook my head.

"I'm..." I trailed off at first before focusing. "I'm not. Level 2, I mean. It's just that ever since I first received Hestia's Blessing...I had this."

"How is that possible?" Welf asked, looking at me with confused eyes. "I've never heard of anyone with a Developmental Ability before Level 2, Percy."

"I don't know," I admitted. "Before you told me, I didn't even know what it was, but last night I wanted to make something for Hestia and I tried and...it worked. I don't know how, but it did."

"A Developmental Ability," Welf whispered to himself, shaking his head. "Magic and a skill. What else can you do?"

"Do you want to know?" I asked, looking at him seriously.

Welf abruptly hesitated looking down.

"I'm sorry," He said, looking embarrassed. "After everything we said last night, look at me. I shouldn't pry."

"It's fine," I replied. "Do you want to know?"

He paused for another moment before nodded slowly.

"I have three spells," I said. "And two Developmental Abilities and Skills. I had all of those things from the moment I received the Falna."

Welf closed his eyes and seemed to jerk slightly at that, as if he'd been staggered while standing still.

"That should be unbelievable," He whispered. "But...it's hard to say stuff like that to you, Percy."

Welf held out a hand, gesturing towards my now blue shirt, and I handed it to him. He lifted it up to the shutters, looked at it carefully, and slowly exhaled.

"This looks like Undine Silk," Welf said after a moment, sounding like he could barely believe it.

"What's an Undine?" I asked.

Welf sighed, ducking his head slightly at the question.

"It's a Spirit," He said. "A Spirit of Water."

"Ah," I said, some pieces sliding into place.

"They can imbue clothing with their power, like this," Welf told me, shaking the shirt slightly. "It gives some protection from water and from extreme heat, which is what most people use it for. Well, I say 'most' people, but it's mainly just high-level adventurers. On the forty-fourth floor of the Dungeon, you can find the Flame Rocks that drop Inferno Stones like the ones we smiths use—"

At that, he nodded towards the fire of his forge.

"We need it," He continued. "You can't melt things like Adamant with normal heat—but at the same time, you won't find anything like normal heat on that floor, either. It's supposed to be as hot as the insides of a volcano, too much for even most adventurers to withstand...but if you wear Undine Silk clothes, you won't feel a thing. Not unless you let a Flame Rock hit you, at least."

"I see," I said, remembering my trip to Mount St. Helens. I'd burned eventually, but not easily. Not even in lava. "Is it valuable?"

"It's very valuable," He said. "Way more than any armor I've ever made—but I've never heard of a human making it, even with Mystery. It's called Undine Silk for a reason; it needs to be imbued with the power of a Water Spirit. But you could sell this for...at least a hundred thousand valis. More, depending on how strong it is."

"Oh," I said, rocking back slightly at that. I'd thought that Welf might understand what I'd made, but...I'd never considered that it might be that valuable. "Seriously?"

"Can you make anything else?" Welf asked instead of answering that stupid question. "There are other things like it—Salamander Wool can protect against fire and keep you warm in the middle of a blizzard, for instance."

I looked from the water droplets in the air to the fireplace and scratched my cheek.

"Maybe," I said. "But you said it wasn't normal, even for people with Mystery. At a guess, I'd say I just have an affinity for...Undine Silk."

Welf nodded slowly, looking away and then at me.

"This...may be an odd question," He asked, looking hesitant. "But I couldn't help but notice that you controlled water without a chant, both here and before. And on top of that, you have so much magic, so many skills, and the Dungeon...well, it seems to hate you a bit. So this may be a weird thing to ask, but Percy...are you human? Completely?"

I looked at him, hesitating...but he deserved at least something like an answer.

"No," I whispered. "Only half."

"And what's the other half?" He asked. "An Undine?"

"It's more complicated than that," I said. "I'm—"

Welf abruptly grimaced, raising a hand and shaking his head again.

"No," He said. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you that question. And you shouldn't tell me, Percy—you shouldn't tell anyone."

"I trust you," I said quietly.

"I know," He replied. "And I'm glad. But this...if this gets out, it could be bad for you Percy. Maybe really, really bad. I'm going to do my best to never say a word of this to anyone, but...you've got to remember, what you're willing to do doesn't always matter. So I don't know anything for sure, okay? And let's leave it at that."

"It's that bad?" I asked.

"It could be," He said. "This is a big deal, Percy. I was—I am—glad we're friends. Forgive me for being a bit selfish, but as your smith, I was pleased, because I figured out pretty quickly that you were going to go a long way. I lucked out a lot when you came to my doorstep, even if I'm one of the only ones who know it, and I think I am. There's me, Wayland, and your goddess, right?"

"And Eina, maybe," I said. "My adviser. But she doesn't know too much about it, yet, just how far into the Dungeon I've gone."

"Which is still a lot," Welf said. "But the Guild can be trusted, more or less—they have to stay neutral. The only thing they're allowed to share about an adventurer is common knowledge and their level and that should be fine for you, at least for now. People aren't going to pay too much attention to a Level 1, so long as their missing the details. But if anyone finds out or figures out even a part of the picture..."

Welf shook his head.

"Like I said, it could be a big deal," He said. "Magic? Rare skills? Those will attract people right off the bat—and with your Developmental Abilities...I only know what one of them is, but it's enough. Mystery is a rare ability to begin with and it's highly sought after; I don't know all the specifics, but I know that those with the Mystery Ability can create Grimoires."

"Grimoires?" I asked.

"Books," He said. "Books that can force anyone who reads them to learn magic. Just a quick read and you'll have a spell."

"Wow," I said, blinking as I looked down at my hands. "I can do that?"

He shrugged.

"I don't know how high a level Mystery needs to be to do that," He said. "So probably not yet, like how a new Blacksmith couldn't create magic swords. And for something like that, I think I heard it said that other stuff might be required--stuff like Mage or something. Mage is another rare ability, see; you have to be a master of magic to obtain it, basically. But for someone like you who already has three spells at level one...it might not be impossible. And I think people will notice that."

"Are Grimoires valuable then?" I asked.

"Something that can teach people magic?" Welf asked incredulously. "That normally needs someone of at least Level 3 to make? Things like that are worth as much as the best weapons in the Hephaestus Familia—no, maybe even more, in some cases. They're the type of things you'd need tens or hundreds of millions of valis to buy, miracles given form. And if you consider that only about five people in Orario have the skill Mystery and that the skill Mage is rare in its own right, then there must be only one or two people in all of Orario who can make things like that. If you could learn to make grimoires, completely forgetting about money problems might not be impossible; you could buy or do whatever you wanted. The best weapons from the best smiths in Orario, magic swords, elixirs, and more."

I thought about that for a moment, considering the implications before lifting a hand to my chin.

"There's nothing I really want to buy, though," I mused. "And I already have you and the Miach Familia...but I guess it would be useful to have. With stuff like that, supporting Hestia wouldn't be a problem and she could live however she wanted. Or I could help Miach...hm."

I closed one eye and looked at Welf.

"Do you want magic, Welf?" I asked him. "You mentioned that your other spell was circumstantial—if nothing else, being able to give magic to my friends might be useful."

Welf just sighed and shook his head.

"It's not really a question of whether I'd want it or not," He answered tiredly. "But you shouldn't say things like that so easily, since this is a big deal. But I suppose the fact that you can say stuff like that is what I like about you, Percy."

Even as he said the words, however, he started to frown.

"But you might want to be careful," He warned. "The ability to make things like that...it has a tendency to attract the wrong sorts of people or bring out the worst in them. If you were a part of a large and powerful Familia, there might not be a problem, but as your Familia is now...you won't like the attention it might draw. Not all gods are as kind as yours and mine."

I looked at him carefully, tilting my head to the side.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," I said. "But the way you talk about it makes it seem like you're speaking from experience."

Welf closed his eyes and turned away.

"Where's that drink when I need it?" He wondered to himself, his back to me. "But no, especially now, you deserve to know. "I...can make magic swords. That's what the Crozzo family is known for."

"Magic swords...ah, right, you mentioned those before," I remembered. "What are those?"

Welf's shoulders lowered and he sighed again.

"Sometimes it's hard to talk to you, Percy," He said, hunching slightly.

"Well what? Are they just swords that are magic?" I asked, flushing slightly at his words. "Like mine? Or are they something else?"

"Something else," He said. "Simply put, a magic sword is a sword that casts magic—just a swing and anyone can cast a spell. High-level Blacksmiths can make them...and so can the Crozzo. Even though I'm Level 1, I can make them with ease. No, more than that, the swords I can make are probably more powerful than anyone else's. But I hate them. In Rakia, the land I come from, my family became nobles by making countless magic swords for the god who rules it, Ares."

"Ares," I repeated, making a face. Something must have slipped into my tone because Welf glanced at me over my shoulder.

"You know him?" He asked.

"Ah," I said, waving a hand as if to dismiss the slip up. Things weren't the same here and I had to keep that in mind. "Probably not. Or, at the very least, let's say I'd rather not know him."

"Hah," Welf laughed bleakly. "I suppose I feel the same. Because he's a god of war, Rakia was always quick to start a fight—and with the swords we made, there was no need for tactics. Instead, Rakia's armies would just swing their swords and annihilate everything in their path. They trampled over everything in their way, attacked with the slightest excuse, and hurt countless people. Until one day it ended."

"How?" I asked.

"Spirits," He said, chuckling again. "The reason we have this power is because, years ago, my ancestor nearly sacrificed his life to save a Spirit from harm. In return for his actions, the spirit gave him some of her blood and magic and when my family first received the Falna...we had this power. But one day, Rakia turned its sights on a forest where elves and Spirits lived and turned it all to ash. The elves took their revenge on Rakia, the survivors joining Familias to gain the strength they needed to do so, but the Spirits struck at the Crozzo family and its magic swords. One day, in the middle of battle, every sword shattered and the Crozzo lost the ability to make any new ones."

"But you can?" I asked. "Why?"

"I don't know," He said. "Maybe the curse ran its course. Maybe the Spirits saw something in me. Maybe it's just luck. But when I first received the Falna, I had the power to make magic swords. I found that out when I first made one...and so did my father and grandfather. No, not just them, but Ares and his Familia probably found out, too; I don't know. Before they could come find me, my father tried to force me to make magic swords—make something to return the family to nobility. Instead, I ran with the help of...someone who's gone now."

Welf reached up to rub at his face and heaved a breath.

"Is that why your Familia doesn't like you?" I asked. "Because you don't make magic swords for them?"

"They think it's a waste," He said with a shrug. "I guess I understand it—I know I have a power that most people would kill to have. I told you before that I don't have any other customers, but that wasn't always true; people used to bother me about them all the time. No, even now there are probably a lot of people out there who'd want one of Crozzo's magic swords. The only sword I ever sold was returned quickly, probably because the wielder realized what it was. Frankly, I got so sick of it all that I just kicked all of them out and yelled at them. 'Who would ever want to forge something for your assholes!?' Stuff like that."

I chuckled a little bit at that.

"And that's why you don't want to make any magic swords?" I guessed. "But you'll still make me armor and such, right?"

Welf's shoulders shook again, but this time, the sound that came out of his mouth was one of startled laughter.

"You make it sound so simple," He said. "Like it's nothing."

"Well," I hedged. "I still don't really know what you're talking about, so maybe it's just that I don't really know what I'm missing...but I already have a magical sword, remember? And magic, too. So given the choice...I'd rather have a friend than another sword. Riptide's the best, anyway."

Welf laughed again at that, shoulders rising as he turned around.

"Riptide's pretty amazing," He said. "The best sword I've ever seen. Something that endures and returns no matter what, that'll stay by your side until the very end. One day, if I could make something like that..."

"I'll look forward to it," I told him. "But for now, mind focusing on making me that armor? We both still have a long way to go."

He nodded and smiled at me.

"Will do," He said. "And also...I've decided."

I blinked at him.

"Decided what?" I asked.

"If it's alright with you, I'll start looking for a supporter," He told me. "Might as well give the Guild a shot, right? See if we get lucky."

"Isn't your name an issue, though?" I asked.

"It is, but..." He trailed off and shrugged. "I can't let it hold us back here, can I? If you don't mind though...would you be alright with me screening the applicants? I'll tell all the bastards who show up to just piss off."

"Sure," I said, nodding. "That's fine with me. I'll trust your judgement on this one, Welf."

"I'll stop by the Guild later, then," He told me. "It might take a few days, but...we should find something. You can stop by here later today for your armor, too."

"Will do," I replied, taking back my shirt and shrugging it on. "I need to hurry home then. Since I'm making this...Undine things anyway, do you want me to make you one? I can bring some more thread by later today."

"Sure," He said. "Why not? This forge gets hot as hell anyway. See you later then, Percy."

"See you later, Welf."