Grand Saint Alloy

It had been almost three weeks, and it had been some of the most productive three weeks of his life. Tristan inspected the freeform screw he had made. It looked like a screw, not a pretty one, but still, it was leagues better than he had been before. Everything had improved rapidly, his essence control was just the only new thing.

Having access to healing was very helpful. Combined with the food his production brought in he was able to recover to around ninety percent of his original abilities. It would take him a while to squeeze out those last few repetitions, but it would not stop him from being helpful. Making a fist he nodded to himself, he intended to help the mine’s unit when they left for the Lake Caldera.

They were part of a group that included only tier zero and one people, and Olfred, who had somehow survived. Having a warrior in their group would dramatically increase their survivability, so he intended to put his hand on the scale as much as possible.

“You going with Conni and the others?” Harp asked.

She was standing in the doorway with a plate of toast and eggs. Tristan only nodded as he finished emptying his essence reserves to marked gears and wire. He should not need the spare metal essence while traveling.

“You know your uncle is scheduled to be executed next week right?” Harp said.

“So?” Tristan asked. He was genuinely unsure of why she would ask that question. Nobody liked Elder Forest, while that was no reason to kill a person, it was a good enough reason not to sacrifice lives to save them. Elder Forest was ambitious and foolish, Tristan believed he was comparable to Elder Plain. The only difference being the type of apocalypse they released.

“He’s your uncle, don’t you think you should care a little?” Harp said.

Tristan only shrugged, “My memory gets fuzzier the farther back it goes, I have no positive memories of him. However, just because someone is related to you, that does not make them worth your time.”

That did not seem to sit well with Harp, but she had a good relationship with her dad and presumably her aunts and uncles. Tristan could not blame her for projecting those familial feelings onto him. It was not that he did not want to have a great family, however, he would argue that he had one. It should have been obvious to even Harp with the people he asked to put his heart back. He trusted Conni and Eve with his heart and if that was not a metaphor he did not know what was.

He took the offered breakfast and motioned to the pile of metal, “I am leaving these here to get you by until we can return.”

Harp nodded, “Thank you, just don’t die.”

Tristan grinned, “I’ll try not to, but as you know I am pretty hard to kill.”

She did not smile, simply nodding and stepping away as two children got into a fight in another room. Grabbing a coat he stepped outside, strangely the temperature was rising. It was by no means warm but it was far warmer than it should have been at this time of year. The snow had started melting over the last few weeks and the Caldera had received warm rain as opposed to snow.

Any wind coming from the west was frigid while any wind blowing from the east was comparatively warm. Vulcan had theorized a volcano had erupted somewhere, Tristan had no concept of what a volcano was, but a mountain that spewed out molten stone seemed quite far-fetched. However, it was pretty normal compared to the demigod lamppost giving him that information.

Walking outside he found a man in a well-pressed military outfit and stopped him, “Do you know where the recruitment station is, I just recovered from an injury and want to enlist.”

He was not worried about the man turning him down or being irritated. Tristan knew the paper pusher was paid a commission on every recruit that he brought in. A tier three had to be worth quite a bit.

“Uh, yes,” He looked Tristan up and down, “What injury did you have?”

Tristan did not look like he had just recovered from anything. The lack of a scar, limp, or any sign at all was odd. If an injury only just now healed, then he would have been fine for the draft three weeks ago.

“I had a few broken ribs and a punctured lung,” Tristan said, “A buddy managed to get some time to heal me with a healing artifact.”

“You have a healer for a friend?” The man perked up.

“Well, it was an artifact meant for prolonging torture, so I was unconscious for most of it,” Tristan said. He was not willing to throw Eve to the wolves by saying she was the only reason he survived. Bruce, on the other hand, the Temple would not go after him. Not because he was too valuable to target, but because that spear of his was classified as a torture implement.

“Well, uh thank you for your rush, what tier are you,” He asked hesitantly.

His eyes widened when Tristan held up three fingers. There had been a shortage of warriors, there had only been a little more than six hundred to begin with and few had stayed behind in their respective calderas. Aside from those who had reached tier three through their political connections, there were probably only a handful in the city.

“Follow me,” the man said.

Tristan started regretting his actions when he was led to the steward’s seat of power. He was not being placed under Kerri, he no longer feared the man, He just was unwilling to to serve under him. They entered into the main atrium but did not enter Kerri’s office. Instead, they entered an identical room save for the black marks on the wall and the painting behind the desk. This one was of a shield that looked to be made of granite bricks with a hamlet set behind it.

“This is Holden the head of security,” Tristan’s guide explained as they entered the room, “He is responsible for assigning patrolmen and protectors to VIP personnel.”

“You sure you want me guarding anyone?” Tristan asked uncertainly. It was not something he had done before, his version of guarding was killing the threat before it reaped too many lives. He did not even have that good of a track record.

The guide did not have time to answer as Holden looked up from his papers. He was average in just about every way, brown hair, brown eyes, tan skin, the only thing distinctive was the white hair at his temples and running along his jawline. The head of security would have made a decent undercover agent, which truly could have been his post before taking up this position.

“Who did you bring me?” Holden asked curiously, “I hope it's important, I don’t have time to waste.”

“Yes, sir,” the guide saluted, “I was approached by, uh, what was your name?”

“Sage,” Tristan answered, with Kerri down the hall he would not risk throwing his name out there.

“Sage is a warrior who just recovered from his injuries due to a private artifact owned by his associate,” The guide said, “He asked for directions, and that is why I brought him here.”

Holden nodded, “Good job, I vaguely recollect that name crossing this desk. Let's get the test out of the way, you are dismissed.”

The guide marched off, most likely to take care of some paperwork. Tristan expected the man to be a warrior, most likely with an earth kern considering all the earth tones present in his appearance. He was curious about what test he would be made to perform, he could make a construct, you could not get much more proof than that. Instead, Holden rummaged around in a drawer and pulled out a needle and a piece of paper with four marks on it.

Tristan remembered this from the recruiters that had come to the mine, but he had to ask, “Why do you want a blood test when I could just make a construct?”

“You aren’t from the River Caldera are you?” Holden said, “We like our bureaucracy here and that means paperwork. I can put a slip of paper into a folder with your name on it, but I can only place stone constructs in the same place. You don’t look like you have stone kern, yellow eyes, or fire I would guess? I’m not able to put a fire construct in a folder.”

Tristan could fake a weak fire kern. He was not resistant to it, and he could only keep the tier fifteen flames from Vulcan up for a few moments. It would be enough to fool any test. He had hoped that the tier of the fire would increase its power. While that was technically true, it required an ocean of essence to use that power. A fire burned fuel, Tristan had poor essence to use as fuel and he lacked the volume to compensate for the low quality.

“Makes sense,” Tristan said, he wrote Sage at the top of the strip of paper and pricked his finger. Predictably, the red line at the base turned dark up to the fourth mark.

“Now you can demonstrate your essence type,” Holden said, nodding as he watched the candle like flame light at the end of Tristan's finger, “Thank you for not making a fireball.”

He placed the slip of paper in his desk and removed a second document. Tristan looked at the wall, well that explained the scorch marks. Some bozo had tried to make a large fire construct in here.

Holden cleared his throat, “As you have noticed we will be heading to the Lake Caldera to assist them with their infestation. However, due to our shortage of able bodied men, I am assigning you to protection detail.”

“I am not the best at protection,” Tristan played into fire kern stereotypes, “You know that fire kerns have large area of effects and suck at taking hits.”

“No problem, the guards of the head family will be loaned mythical beast leather,” Holden said, “It's just as good as the Forrest Calderas tower plate, only lighter.”

Tristan knew that at tier three, lighter armor was not a perk. He could get away with it due to how heavy he was and so could most people with earth kerns, but they were already pretty tanky. Other types of essence benefited from the extra mass of heavy armor with it being a requirement for anyone at tier four who lacked a compensating force.

The first part of the statement processed, “Wait, I’m protecting the head family?”