Free Battle Mage: Winter's Edge by Donald Wigboldy Page A

moment, it would slowly shift to pink and then to violet before receding back towards diamond again.
                  A low whistle of admiration left Halthor’s lips bringing Sebastian’s attention back to the men watching him. With an apologetic smile, the mage bowed his head slightly, “I am sorry, sir, but I seem to have used up your iron. What do I owe you for the stock? It appears that I need to keep it now after all.”
                  Waving off the idea of payment, the smith said, “No, falcon, that is quite all right. Just seeing such an amazing work is payment enough. I thought that I knew metals and how to work them. Such strange affinity you have I would never have believed, but answer me, young mage, how did you do such a thing? I’ve never seen even a wizard with such a magnificent piece. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d almost think this staff was alive.”
                  Looking at the staff again, Sebastian knew what the man meant. It did feel alive, warm, and yet for all its previous existence, the mage felt like the staff was also a part of him as well. Propping it against the wall so that his own magic didn’t interfere with what he sensed, the mage felt for the staff and for any magic within it. Even from several feet, he could feel an energy within it that was all its own. The gem still slowly pulsed with life and there was now a bond between them. Opening his hand towards the staff, it seemed to leap across the distance to him. A small glow from his palm as it reunited with him signaled even more of a strangeness to their bond.
                  The smiths had all stepped back in amazement at the strange feat, but not knowing magic, they were even less surprised than the mage. The common folk expected strangeness from magic users, and having never seen such a thing meant little to the uninformed.
                  Sebastian, on the other hand, was completely dumbfounded by what he had created. Calling the staff to him had required no use of his magic. It had come of its own will and yet it was also his will calling it as well.
                  Halthor moved closer to inspect the intricacies of the mage’s staff in wonderment. “Such an amazing thing.” Looking at the mage with a glance of meaning, he added, “It should have a name. All great weapons have found names, either from their makers or the ones who wield them. Will you name it, master mage?”
                  “Bairh’loore,” the name seemed to escape his lips before he could think.
                  The smith looked perplexed. “What kind of name is that?”
                  Shaking his head, Sebastian replied, “I think it means Life’s Blood, though how I know that I can’t even begin to say.”
                  Dismissing it as more magical mystery, the smith nodded replying, “Life’s Blood, now that I can believe.” The man traced his fingers along the staff feeling the patterns of iron and wood. Sebastian could feel the touch strangely enough from Bairh’loore and wondered if anyone were to ever try and steal it if the staff would let him know that too.
                  When the blacksmith let his gaze run to the head of the staff, he frowned uncertainly. “I wonder where this stone came from. It’s warm to the touch. The staff is also actually. Truly this is a mage’s staff, I think. I doubt any craftsman could begin to fabricate it’s like with a mere forge. No wonder you didn’t ask for any help from us. We could have bound the wood in iron, but this seems to be wood and iron binding each other. Only magic can do something like this,” he acknowledged.
                  Sebastian went to gather his leather bag and took a quick swallow of water. Strangely, he wasn’t feeling a hunger as large uses of magic usually left him. The thirst was merely from the warmth of the