Father walked up to the altar as the molten alloy stopped spinning. The liquid-cooled down, forming into an iron-gray spear tainted with amber cracks. He squeezed the spear's handle hard, sparking the whole thing in yellow light, and in that flash, the spear retracted itself to a metal bar the size of a palm.
"Smart choice kid."
"Wow! I never knew we could do stuff like that!" I said with a childishly enthusiastic voice.
"Hell, even I had no idea." said my brother.
"Wait, then how did you even build that?"
"What the weapon can do is in its creator's mind during its creation," Father answered.
"Wait, so you're saying we can make our weapon do anything? Like anything?"
I asked as I imagined something too ridiculous to be true, something that would only pop out of a child's mind, a spear that could sunder the sky, a shield that could block the crash of a meteor, or simply just a legendary magic blade.
"… In short, no. But the real answer is probably, but you'll die due to many causes. To name a few: Surge of Arcane or losing too much energy. Most of the time, if the one who crafted it is no lunatic, there are limits. Look at your brother."
Aeneas sat there, panting in exhaustion, his face pale and his whole body bathed in sweat.
"Well, that's pretty disappointing," I grumbled.
"Now, this is the last step to finish off this ritual. Aeneas! Come here!" He walked down the stairs.
Aeneas tried to stand up but his arms shook as it tried to raise his daunted body. But in the end, he fell, bumping his bottom to the floor.
"I think he's not ready," I said to our father.
"Of course, I wouldn't be! Just let me—let me rest for a bit." His back fell to the floor and stared at the ceiling silently, too tired to spill out another word.
"That's fine, I'll just sit here–" Father sat down on the stair "And—oh I forgot about something."
"What is it, Pa?"
"Listen closely,"
Aeneas then sat upright and still, focusing on capturing every word that the old man would utter. Our father waved his hand down in my direction, signaling me to sit.
"Remember this, you two must always be mindful of your actions. Especially you, Aeneas. You got this in your hand—"
He stretched his hand out, showing the spear bar in his hand.
"This weapon is for self-defense only, and always trained, to protect, not harm, understand?" Said as he laid down the spear.
We nodded.
"Good … good." He uttered before standing up, his gaze fixed on the sky above. The amberish sky from a setting sun. It was a brief moment yet that gaze was filled with passion, seemingly reminiscing or recalling his past.
"After all these years, there's only one thing I want you two to always remember, doesn't matter if you'll become a saint or the devil incarnate, be whatever you want. Be free. But on one condition, make sure it is truly what you chose. Because it was you who chose that path, not anyone else, not your friends, not your brother, not the king, not me, not even the gods. Don't let others limit what you can do. Believe in yourself, like how I believe in both of you and you'll see that your potentials are limitless."
"Pa?" Aeneas interrupted.
Our father quickly turned to his son.
"And what if I don't know where to go? What if I'm … lost?" Aeneas asked.
Our father relaxed his face and closed his eyes as he answered with a calm voice.
"Then close your eyes. Calm the voices in your head, let it turn silent. Then there will come another voice, one from your heart. When the time comes, ask it, and believe it with your soul, for the heart never lies."