The ease of pain felt great and desirable. Reed stood up and stretched his back a little, making sure not to touch the embedded medallion in his chest.
He steadily heard the clanking of tools and the sizzling of hot metal in the water. Aloysius had been working non-stop until he heard the voices of everyone returning to the shop.
Reed brushed his sweat-filled hair back, revealing more forehead as he stepped out of the room shirtless, afraid to graze the cloth against the scar.
There stood Penburn, Furnella, Tainch, and someone he'd not talked to before, but someone he had recognized from the entrance of Dromair.
He thought the person to be Rhewl, as he hadn't talked to him before.
"There you are, Reed," Penburn greeted, stepping into the hot room of stone and fire.
Aloysius stood from a short rock in front of the furnace and approached Reed.
"Looks clean." He said, "For now at least."
What do you mean 'for now'? " Reed replied, expressing some worry."
"Well..." Aloysius responded before being cut off by the new face approaching the two of them.
"Your body will react differently to the thing." He said. He was taller than Reed, but much shorter than Aloysius. He looked not too younger than Penburn himself, the oldest of Reed, Tainch, and Furnella. His autumn-peppered hair flowed down to his neck in a mullet fashion. He wore a black strip of cloth across his face, covering his left eye. The edges of it showed infinitesimal cracks on the skin, barely visible.
"My name is Rhewl Prodomor," he greeted, raising his hand to shake. "You must be Reed, no?"
Reed nodded, returning the gesture.
"Back to what you were saying?" Reed asked.
"Right," Rhewl said. "Like me, your body can react differently, given time. The answer to that escapes me, however."
Rhewl explained as he lifted the cloth strip from his left eye, revealing an all-black sphere with small strings of cracks around it.
"These types of bindings with medallions are consequential. Penburn has had a creeping mark. His, however, has been the slowest, fortunately. I am unsure as to what extent this will continue on my end."
"That isn't my problem as of now," Reed replied with determination. "I need to know whether this medallion will work quickly." He thought of Linette, Geraint, and his life.
"Well," Penburn said to him, Tainch and Furnella stood beside him, observing the scar on Reed's chest. "How do you feel? Maybe do what you think you should do when you used to bind with your previous medallion."
Reed hadn't known what to do other than do what he used to do with his knowledge of binding.
Before closing his eyes and trying to exert some will, he looked at everyone who now stared at him.
The fresh face of Rhewl's stern countenance glared at him as if to judge. He felt he needed to do something immediately, otherwise he'd have wasted everyone's time.
Closing his eyes, Reed tried finding the location of his will. He found it easy when the memory of his father resisting the chains that held him down came to him. Unfortunately, it all went blank from there. He looked for something that wasn't there. He searched for something that was supposed to be in its place, but nothing appeared. Instead, in its place, he saw the silhouette of a hand he hadn't known.
As he saw nothing but the hand, he reached for it, and as he slowly did, he witnessed white nails that closed with the instant of an unknown force. The hand grasped tightly as he neared it. Before he knew it, Reed felt a pain in his back. Opening his eyes, he was at the back of the room in Aloysius's workshop lying on the floor. Behind him had been a nasty crack against the wall, as his shoulders ached.
"W...What happened?" He coughed and heaved.
The shock on everyone's face told him he was in trouble. Furnella's eyes showed fear, Tainch's eyes showed confusion, Penburn revealed worry, Rhewl observed keenly, and Aloysius had his arm to the side grasping at nothing, ready to strike from nothing, and furiously worried at nothing.
"Your arm," Penburn said to Reed.
As Reed looked at his arms, he discovered that his right one was covered in blinding silver skin instead of his own. His fingers showed upward ridges of platinum facing him that continued up to his shoulder and stopped somewhat up his neck.
"For a moment, a blade appeared," Rhewl stated. "Not all of it, but it did. Something I couldn't say much of as it silverly blinded us for a moment."
"Zemizel knew of this," Aloysius said. "He knew of who the Reaver who took this form was. He fought him and saw its potential."
"But my blade?" Reed exclaimed. "where's the blade? What am I supposed to do with a damn arm of silver!"
Reed was furious. He needed an answer to all his problems now, and none of this was any of that.
"Calm yourself, Reed." Penburn tried calming him, "It isn't perfect in the beginning, I mean look." He pointed at Reed's chest. "It hasn't shattered, it worked, Reed. You fused with it."
"Pen is right." Aloysius said, "Even though I hate to admit it."
"Seriously!" Penburn said to Aloysius.
"Fine!" Reed shouted, "It worked, dusted hells it worked, but what, do the same and keep getting slammed until my body shatters! Because if not the medallion, then I will."
"No." Tainch began stepping up front. "No, you won't. You found your fear, you need to accept it. Once you do, then everything should be clear."
"What do you mean Tainch, I don't understand all these riddles!"
"For now," Penburn said, "Let's go back to the infirmary and let you rest. When you do, think about what you saw if you did see anything, and try to retrace what you initially did. Study it."
"Mmm," Reed mumbled, annoyed at his incompetence at knowing anything.
"Do what they say, Reed," Aloysius added. "You're already showing more progress than Zemizel. It shattered the moment I tried fusing it in him."
Reed sighed and rubbed his forehead.
"I apologize," he said to everyone. "I'm still recovering from..." And he stood up and wore his vest. Walking out of the workshop, Penburn followed, and everyone else stayed.
They began walking back the way they came from and eventually made it back to the infirmary.
"Go rest, and do what I've told you. I've got some things I need to attend to. I'll be back by nightfall." Penburn hadn't let him speak and just pushed him in, handing him the infirmary key.
The place was quiet. It felt calm without the distant voices of the patients. Reed strolled around the halls, going from room to room. They all looked the same, with the occasional minor differences.
Reed recalled a hall he hadn't gone through near the back and strolled into that area before coming across an empty hallway. No door or window adorned the walls, it was just empty.
Walking back and uninterested in the place anymore, he wandered back into the room Penburn had let him use. He almost missed the red drapes and soft couch only after a few hours.
He threw himself down on a cushion and rested his eyes.
He thought about the many things he missed and wondered about the one thing he couldn't remember. Nothing came of it. He had no recollection of what it was that once lingered in that part of his mind.
With a failure to remember, he began focusing on the medallion itself and tried doing so with the vague instructions that were given to him.
He focused on fear this time, anything that he felt off with, recalling the cold breathing in his ear the night before, the fear of losing Linette, the fear of his life gone, and the fear of forgetting something important to him.
The last one caused his chest to turn cold as he felt it stiffen.
Looking down, he glared at the now silver, rigid surface on his skin, spreading slowly as he felt his body shifting away to the side. Looking at his arm, he could see something bright and silver piercing the couch as it pushed him away with each moment it grew.
A minute later, Reed had stood up to not damage any more of Penburn's furniture. It was now that he witnessed himself covered in half a body of silver, where the transformation stopped, cold mist rose from the ridges of the armor-like structure on Reed's body, where his hand was, instead an amalgamation of skin and silver melding into a thin blade that extended a length and half of his own body. One side of the tool faced downwards in a patterned, rigid formation.
As he raised his blade and saw the reflection of himself on the steel, gleaming, scaled armor covered a portion of his face.
"What the hell is this?" He muttered to himself, his voice an erratic noise of low tones.
He raised the blade that was now a part of his hand slowly, as it extended far from him, careful as to not scrape it against the wall.
Cold mist flowed with the white trail itself behind.
"Kingdom Devils!" He said in fury.