HP: The Artisan's Path Chapter 109

Hi all,

​Here’s the first chapter for the week. It was meant to be released yesterday, but I ended up scrapping most of the first draft and rewriting it.

​Chapter 109

The apprentices remained silent for several minutes, watching the dwarves hammer away at their forges. The air was heavy with the sharp tang of burning charcoal. It mixed with the scent of molten metal. Each strike of the hammer sent vibrations through the ground and resonated in their chests. The awe of the scene held them captive. Few could claim to have witnessed a supposedly extinct race working before their eyes.

Dwarves were rumoured to be master blacksmiths without equal. Their legendary works still appeared scattered throughout the magical world, treasured by collectors and warriors alike. Even the goblins, with all their skill, couldn't match the artistry these stocky craftsmen produced.

Completely absorbed in their work, the dwarves paid no attention to the newcomers. Curious creatures, they stood half as tall as the humans but seemed twice as broad. Their massive arms were corded with muscle and looked strong enough to snap Harry in half. Their elaborately plaited beards, adorned with small metal rings and charms, swung with each hammer strike. Some beards hung past their waists, while others, tucked safely into their belts, stayed clear of the work.

Each dwarf claimed their own dedicated forge, with a wooden barrel of ale conveniently stationed beside every workstation. Occasionally, a dwarf would finish his task, pour a generous measure from the barrel, and down the ale in a single gulp before moving to the next piece.

Harry's keen eyes noted that the dwarves' forging involved careful, repeated folding of the metal, each movement executed with exacting precision. Wanting to examine the process more closely, he stepped nearer to a dwarf working on a piece of armour, focusing on each deliberate hammer strike and the effect on the metal.

The dwarf wielded a hammer connected to a gauntlet on his arm by a heavy chain. Harry couldn't determine what purpose the gauntlet served, but it resembled his own in some ways.

On each upswing of the hammer, Harry distinctly noticed a glowing rune array etched on the underside of the hammer's head. This detail wasn't apparent from farther away, but up close, it repeatedly caught his attention.

He frowned, scrutinising the glowing array and pondering its purpose. Was it simply a reinforcement array to strengthen the hammer from constant use, or did it serve a more intricate function in the forging process?

As Harry considered this, he noticed the rune array subtly shifted patterns on its own each time the dwarf struck the metal. Intrigued, Harry shifted his attention from the hammer to the way the armour’s form responded and changed with each blow. By observing these interactions over several minutes, he began to deduce how the forging process and magical arrays might be connected.

"Unbelievable," Harry muttered..

Though difficult to spot, Harry realised that at the exact moment the hammer struck, he saw a brief flash—a fleeting outline shaped like an array appearing on the metal's surface. He wondered if the hammer acted as a runic pen, imprinting these arrays onto the metal with each strike. As the dwarf repeatedly folded the metal, Harry considered that each fold might trap more layers of arrays, hidden deep beneath the surface.

Traditional enchanting required painstakingly inscribing runes onto a finished piece. These dwarves, however, embedded magical arrays during the forging itself. Each fold of the metal trapped another layer of enchantment within the structure. This built up complexity that would be impossible to achieve through surface engraving alone.

The implications of what he’d seen struck Harry forcefully. If he could figure out this method, he could craft armour and weapons with enchantments as advanced as the knights’—something he'd always envied. He remembered his frustration at seeing their armour with no apparent runes. Even with a physical sample, breaking apart and copying arrays embedded deep within would be a serious challenge. It seemed more straightforward to break an Obscuring Array than to uncover how these internal enchantments worked.

Harry was pulled from his musings when Sheena spoke up.

"You must be wondering why we're letting green apprentices in on a secret like this. Seems a hefty risk, doesn't it?"

The apprentices glanced at each other nervously, knowing she was right.

"Besides being equipped with your own set of armour," Sheena continued, "this marks another important milestone in your training. Today, we introduce you to the Knight's Oath. This is a set of strict rules and principles that ensure we maintain discipline and a certain mentality. It also exists to protect the guild's secrets and never betray it in a way that could cause harm."

Harry wondered what exactly they meant by 'betrayal.' Without a clearly defined oath, breaking it by accident seemed all too possible. He felt uneasy at the thought, questioning whether taking the oath would only lead to complications.

Jorge raised his hand, and Sheena nodded at him to speak.

"What does this oath entail, exactly?" Jorge asked. "Is it reinforced by magic? If we break the oath, will we receive a magical backlash?"

"The oath is not bound by magic, nor will you be punished if you break it. We don't believe in compelling people to follow a code through magical coercion—that would defeat the entire purpose." Sheena paused, gaze sharp. "But take this seriously. The guild and Knights don’t mess around. Betray your oath and you’ll regret it. Big time."

Sheena continued, answering the following question before it could be asked. "At a minimum, you will be kicked out of the order. Your armour will be confiscated, and you will be forbidden from claiming any association with the knights or the guild. Any additional punishment will depend on the severity of the infringement."

"Still doesn't add up," an apprentice cut in. "We're not knights yet. What if we walk out now?"

Sheena smirked. "Then we'll wipe your memories of this meeting. The reason we're revealing them now is to show you the resources we have at our disposal, to incentivise you to fully commit to becoming a knight."

Her gaze swept across the group before settling on Harry. "I believe Harry already understands what the dwarves are capable of producing."

Harry nodded when everyone glanced in his direction.

Sheena continued. "It's not easy to find people capable of becoming knights. The training is brutal, and the dangers are very real. We need to reveal some of our secrets to help you understand what you're potentially signing up for, and what you'd be walking away from."

"What about the armour?" Jorge asked. "Do we get to keep it if we opt out of the training?"

"Of course not," Sheena replied without hesitation. "These suits of armour are far too valuable. They all have resizing enchantments built into them, so someone else can use them after you're gone."

Sheena continued speaking, but Harry had lost interest. He returned his attention to the dwarf from earlier. Five more minutes passed in silence before the dwarf set down the completed breastplate with a grunt of satisfaction. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, then reached for his barrel and poured himself a generous measure of ale.

Among his fellows, this dwarf cut an impressive figure. Fiery red hair, a brilliant copper, was braided into three thick plaits that hung down his back. His right forearm bore a tattoo: two crossed hammers beneath a stylised flame.

"Catch your eye, lad?" the dwarf rumbled, not looking up from his ale.

Harry nodded. "Your forging technique. How does it work exactly?"

The dwarf finally turned, bushy eyebrows arched. "Did I ask for an apprentice? Don't see one."

"Huh?"

“Aye, only if you were my trainee would I ever share such trade secrets." The dwarf stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Hel itself would freeze solid before I'd take a gangly lad like you on. You're too scrawny for proper forge work."

Harry bristled at the casual dismissal. "I happen to have some experience in forging myself. Does this look like something made by an amateur?"

He rolled up his sleeve and extended his arm, showing off his gauntlet.

The dwarf leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing as he examined the craftsmanship. "What does it do?"

"Wouldn’t you like to know," Harry shot back, pulling his arm away. "I’m not the only one guarding secrets."

"Heh, got spirit! Name’s Sindri." The dwarf grinned, sticking out his hand.

Harry shook the offered hand, feeling the immense strength in the dwarf's grip. "Harry."

"That's a fine piece of work, lad." Sindri released his hand and tilted his head thoughtfully. "Are you the artisan who caused all the kerfuffle with the aircraft the other night?"

"That's right."

Sindri shook his head. "I heard you brought an interesting artifact with you. I asked permission to examine it, but the lackwits in charge denied me. Now, I won't get the chance to examine it at all."

"I feel the same way," Harry replied. He didn't think it prudent to mention his role in the sword's disappearance. "Say, where can I get my hands on one of those gauntlets of yours?"

"Keep your mitts where I can see them," Sindri barked, chuckling.

Harry frowned. "If my suspicions are correct, the gauntlet functions like a computer programme, sending new arrays to the hammer to imprint into the piece of armour. Is it preprogrammed with specific patterns, or do you have to activate different sequences somehow?"

"Smart little lad, aren't ya." Sindri paused, seeming to weigh how much to reveal. "I'll tell you this much, and no more. Each gauntlet is designed for a specific task and doesn't require our input once we start working. The arrays change automatically as the forging progresses. As long as we don't get our timing screwed up, we only have to worry about hammering away."

Harry was about to press for more details when Sheena called his name. He glanced over to see her gesturing for the apprentices to gather.

The next hour passed in a blur of activity. The dwarves took their measurements for the apprentices' armour. Then each apprentice was assigned their own dwarf to craft their personal suit.

By lucky circumstance, Sindri was assigned as his smith. Harry tried asking more questions as Sindri began sketching out preliminary designs on a piece of worn parchment, but the dwarf refused to answer any of them. Instead, Harry found himself relegated to sitting in silence, watching Sindri as he worked.

The dwarves dismissed them soon after, telling the apprentices they had everything they needed for now.

As Harry walked back to the castle with the other apprentices, he vowed that he would find a way to pry the secrets from Sindri's head. He'd come here under the assumption that he would learn the secrets to the knights' armour enchantments, but that was looking increasingly unlikely at this point.

Time was the problem. He didn’t have much left before he had to return to Hogwarts for the new term. He would have to work quickly to find a way to convince the stubborn dwarf to share at least some of his knowledge.

One way or another, Harry was determined to unlock the mystery of the dwarven forging technique before he left Finland.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=

​23rd August

Harry had just finished breakfast in the Great Hall when a knight approached him.

"I have a message from Grimshaven," the knight said. "His patient has woken up."

Harry's eyes widened, his fork clattering against the plate. "It's about bloody time."

He shoved his chair back, stood, and sprinted for the exit. Relief and anticipation flooded him, his heart hammering.

As Harry darted away, the knight called after him, "No running in the hall!"

Harry climbed the stairs three steps at a time and sprinted down the hallway before bursting into the infirmary.

Lewis was sitting up in bed, gazing out the window at the courtyard below. He looked far better than he had a couple of days ago.

Harry froze in the doorway, barely believing Lewis was alive and conscious. Emotions rushed through him: relief, gratitude, anger at Lewis's unexplained disappearance, and a deep, aching fondness for the man who had given him refuge as a child before his grandparents found him.

Lewis turned and chuckled when he saw Harry's dumbfounded expression. "Harry, you're looking much better than the last time I saw you. You've turned from an ugly duckling into a swan."

He realised Lewis meant the necklace enchantment—the charm that had disguised him so completely that no one recognised him.

Harry shot him a dirty look. "You saw through the enchantment, remember? You could have told me in person instead of leaving a letter behind."

Lewis's smile faded, his expression growing sombre. "I wish I could have stuck around, but Obsidian found me. I barely had time to scrawl that note before I had to flee."

Harry nodded. He had pieced together the evidence Lewis left behind and came to the same conclusion. 

Lewis patted the space beside him on the bed. "Come sit beside me. We have much to talk about."

Harry crossed the room and settled on the edge of the bed. Now that he was closer, he could see the faint tremor in Lewis's hands. The old man had survived, yes. But the ordeal had clearly taken its toll.

"It seems like I've been chasing your tail for the past two years,” Harry said. “Imagine my surprise when I discovered your connection to Galahad."

"Yes, a deception I deeply regret now."

"What do you mean? I heard you were the leader of the Knights of the Round. That you were the only one in your order who interacted with Galahad."

"It's a long, messy story." Lewis picked at the edge of the blanket. "I'll give you the short version since I'm already feeling tired."

Harry glanced towards the infirmary door, knowing he should be training with the other apprentices. But the weight of unanswered questions had been pressing on him for too long. "I should be training, but this is too important."

Lewis shifted to get more comfortable.

"It started when my family kicked me out after they found out I was a Squib. I probably should have left the magical world behind then, but I was stubborn and wanted to prove myself and them wrong. Being a Squib wasn't a complete disaster. Some jobs don't require magic, but without funds or a proper education, my prospects were bleak."

Harry listened closely, hanging on every word. Violet had barely talked about her brother, only sharing bits and pieces. He still had a lot to learn about the man.

"My sister helped me," Lewis continued. "Used her personal allowance to hire tutors so I could complete the theoretical portion of my NEWTs. Although I couldn't take the actual test, I had the knowledge to pursue a career in Cursebreaking."

Harry gaped. "Are you serious?"

Lewis nodded. "I found that I had a knack for old languages and solving puzzles, a big part of exploring old tombs. As long as I was with a team of wizards, I could make myself useful."

Harry frowned, something not quite adding up. "I find it hard to believe they would allow a Squib on their team. There had to be another reason."

Lewis laughed. "Well, yes. I had another purpose. I was their guinea pig. A lot of the magical tombs being explored today assume that you're magical. So many of the traps target wizards specifically, never thinking that they wouldn't have any effect on me. I was the sacrifice to trigger the trap to keep the rest of the team safe."

"That sounds dangerous."

"It was, but I liked it." Lewis's eyes lit up at the memory. "It also felt good to prove to my family that I was still worth something. But everything changed when I made a discovery in Giza. My team was exploring a hidden chamber in a pyramid when something triggered, and I got separated from them. I ended up in a small room filled with strange artifacts."

"Galahad?" Harry shook his head. "His presence can be felt everywhere. He even had a laboratory in this castle, where I found one of the three watches. It took me a long time to figure out the gift you sent me.”

"I couldn't uncover its secret," Lewis admitted. "While some of the artifacts I discovered came with clear instructions, others remained an absolute mystery.”

"So you fobbed it on to me," Harry scoffed. "Still, I have to admit, the artifact is incredibly useful.”

Lewis went on. "I realised right away how valuable the artifacts were, but the most important was a device that let a Squib do basic magic. I didn't want to tell my team about it, so I stayed in the room for a whole day until I was sure they had left. They probably thought I was dead. Once I found a way out, I spent weeks quietly moving everything, including the device, out of the pyramid."

"Don't you mean stole?"

"Call it what you want." Lewis waved his hand. "I ended up with some amazing artifacts, but I left the magical world because I was scared someone would find out my secret. I didn't have much direction, but I liked tinkering, so I bought the junk shop. I probably would have stayed there if the war hadn't started. Death Eaters were going after Muggles and Muggleborns. Every week, the papers had stories about accidents, but I knew they were covering things up."

Things were starting to make sense now. "So you started the Knights of the Round? You never actually met Galahad."

"Yes." Lewis sighed. "I gathered some old friends who were Squibs like me, and started fighting back. Those were exciting times. Dangerous, but exciting. I felt like I was actually making a real difference."

Harry felt a surge of frustration bubbling up. "It seems danger excites you. Did you create the golden dragon tattoo as well? Based your entire resistance group on Arthurian legends? Led me on a bloody goose chase, only to find that the answers aren't as interesting as I imagined?"

Lewis nodded slightly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Indeed, the tales of Arthurian legends always fascinated me. especially since one of the knights of the Round Table shared a name with the creator of the artifacts. The legends represented hope, nobility, and the fight against darkness. I wanted others to feel that same sense of purpose, and to believe they too could be part of something bigger."

Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He still had many questions, but right now he was more concerned with understanding how Lewis had been found and what had nearly killed him.

"Who attacked you? Was it the skinless creature?"

Lewis's brow furrowed. "I don't know who the man was, but he definitely wasn't skinless. You obviously know something I don't.”

Harry frowned. What was happening? The skinless creature definitely had the sword when it killed Dumbledore. So how had it ended up in someone else's hands? Had the creature somehow lost the sword, and another person stumbled upon it? Or was there something else at play here?

"Do you know why he attacked you?" Harry asked.

"He came searching for me, asking for Galahad's whereabouts, but I couldn't give him an answer. I started regretting lying about Galahad right around the time the man stabbed me with the sword. Funny how facing death gives you perspective on your past decisions.”

Lewis yawned. 

Harry decided it was time to leave. They had plenty of time to catch up later. He wasn't about to let the old man vanish again. Despite everything, Harry saw him as family.

"We can talk more later,” Harry said. “I'll send a message to your sister to let her know you're alright."

Lewis winced. "Can you hold off on telling her? I'd like to recover before she lays into me. You know how Violet gets."

"Sorry, I'm not stupid enough to upset her," Harry snorted. "You're on your own with that one."

"Brat. Kicking an injured man whilst he's down."

Harry was about to leave, already halfway to the door, when Lewis called out to him. "How is my old junk shop doing?"

"Grandfather had it repaired and locked down,” Harry said. “Now that Obsidian is disbanded, it's probably safe to return. But don't think you'll get rid of me that easily."

"I wouldn't dream of it.”

Harry exited the infirmary, feeling lighter than he had in days. Now that his worries over Lewis had been assuaged, he could focus properly on his training and, more importantly, find a way to persuade that stubborn dwarf to share his secrets.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

26th August

Harry watched Sindri at the forge, driven by a desire to learn forging secrets and to understand better how enchanted armour was made. He had been visiting for days, balancing his curiosity with a hope that Sindri might eventually open up if he showed enough interest.

So far, he hadn't made any significant progress in learning Sindri's secrets. He'd even purchased some expensive ale for the dwarf, thinking it might soften Sindri's stance. Sindri had appreciated the gesture immensely and consumed the entire lot in one go, but it hadn't changed his mind about sharing his secrets. Harry realised that winning over Sindri would require more than simple gifts.

The armour was nearly finished. Harry would get to try it soon, but he still didn't know what the enchantments did besides blocking magical attacks. He was sure there was more to it, since all the knights seemed much stronger in their armour. He had seen that himself with Sheena.

He'd asked her if he would receive a sword with the armour, but she'd told him that privilege was only granted if he officially joined the order. Although he didn't typically use a sword, the ability to cast magic through it had left him curious.

Lynx wasn't around today. She was helping Pierre with the gate in France, where things were getting worse every day. Pierre had sent some Hit Wizards to check the area and look for the lock to close the gate. Lynx said the lock was usually close by, but Harry doubted it would help. The Beastkin had probably already destroyed it.

In the process of searching the area, the French Hit Wizards had come into conflict not only with the Beastkin but with Spanish forces as well. The gate was located on the border between the two countries, so it was expected that Spain would be nervous about its proximity.

Lynx was going there to see if she could help stabilise the situation. Harry still didn't know the girl's full capabilities, thanks to her magic being heavily restricted. He still had a question left to ask her, but he didn't know what to ask. The opportunity felt too valuable to waste on something trivial.

He needed to build the temple soon. He had some ideas for speeding up the work, but he wasn't sure he could finish before the year ended. Time was working against him again.

A sudden motion pulled Harry from his thoughts—a hammer came flying his way. Instincts took over, and his hand shot up to catch its handle just before it could crash into his face.

"What the hell was that for?" Harry demanded, examining the hammer. To his dismay, it was only an ordinary one.

"If you're going to be a pest, then you can make yourself useful," Sindri said without looking up from his work. "The knights asked me for some new training equipment, but I don't have time to make them. That forge over there is empty. Get to work."

Harry sighed when Sindri pointed to an empty forge, but he didn't complain. It was better than being kicked out. As he got the fire going, he wondered if this meant Sindri liked him and if it might lead to something more.

And pigs could fly.

Minutes passed in silence as he worked, falling into the familiar rhythm of the forge. The heat pressed in, but the process itself felt almost meditative.

"I'm curious about that tattoo on your arm," Harry said. "What does it represent?"

Sindri paused in his work. "It's a symbol of my clan. Back in the day, when there were a lot more of us around, we served an important role in dwarven society. We protected the Eternal Flame, a supernatural fire that we used to create our most powerful weapons and armours. It was such a huge responsibility that our family's clan name was changed to the 'Eternal Clan.'"

Harry raised an eyebrow. He had heard of the Eternal Flame before and wondered if he was about to experience an extraordinary coincidence.

Sindri's expression grew sombre. "Unfortunately, the flame was lost when the dwarves' main city was destroyed during a conflict with the goblins. The survivors fled north, eventually settling in this country, where we've been ever since."

"Why were you in conflict with the goblins?"

"I don't know," Sindri admitted. "Much of our history from those times is lost to us."

"You haven't found the Eternal Flame since then?"

"Not for lack of trying. Even after several centuries, my ancestors and I haven't found a trace of it. It remains a stain on our clan's honour, lad."

"What is the flame exactly?” Harry asked. “Do you know its origins?"

Sindri shook his head. "My ancestors discovered it when they were excavating a cave system to build their main city. Maybe they should have questioned its origins more closely, but the dwarves were too enamoured with it to look deeper. It's often said that we have rocks for brains, and that holds true for some of us."

Harry set down his hammer, turning to face the dwarf fully. "What if I told you that I've heard of this Eternal Flame?"

Sindri's head snapped up, his eyes widening. "Hel's breath, lad! Why didn't you say something sooner? What do you know?"

Harry told him about Solas, the phoenix he'd met on the Greek island. The bird had mentioned the Eternal Flame in passing, and Fawkes had made reference to it on several occasions as well.

Sindri looked positively excited now, running his hands through his beard roughly, tugging at the plaits. "I need to meet this Solas. I may get to see the Eternal Flame in my lifetime. Why didn’t I think that the phoenixes might be connected?"

The dwarf had completely abandoned his work and was rambling now, gesturing wildly with his hands. Harry felt incredibly fortunate, having stumbled upon a method to get into the dwarf's good graces. If he could facilitate a meeting with Solas, he might finally learn the dwarven forging secrets.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Lynx surveyed the situation spread out before her, her keen eyes taking in every detail of the landscape. The bowl-shaped valley below stretched wide and deep, its natural contours now dominated by a massive barrier. 

The magical construct was impressive, hiding the Beastkin forces from direct observation whilst simultaneously broadcasting their presence like a challenge. She could feel the raw power emanating from it even at this distance, a constant thrum against her senses.

It was unknown what their total numbers were, but the Beastkin had been given more than enough time to swell their ranks. Every day that passed, likely saw more warriors streaming through the gate, consolidating their position. 

Lynx couldn't understand their actions. Beastkin were the most prolific race in the Fae Realm, their numbers vast and their warriors formidable. They were no pushovers. So what had caused them to become the advance guard for the Fae Realm forces? Surely they must have realised that they would suffer the most losses if conflict broke out with the humans. 

She realised with an uncomfortable jolt that she was far more blind to the current situation within the Fae Realm than she'd thought. She'd been stuck in her temple for too long, isolated and cut off from the political machinations of her former world. She'd gathered some basic intelligence before borrowing one of the gates to arrive here, but now she wondered if she'd been too hasty. 

Should she make a trip back to the Fae Realm? The thought was tempting, but with her current strength still recovering and the increasingly volatile situation, it might not be the best idea.

"Can you find the lock?" Seraphina asked.

Lynx shook her head. "The lock is already destroyed. If there's any hope of closing the gate, it will have to be from the other side. Or we can try to negotiate with the Beastkin."

"Would they even listen? They seem pretty hostile to me."

Lynx shrugged. "They're just like humans, with both good and bad people amongst them. You can't pigeonhole them all into the same category."

Behind them, the Hit Wizards had set up an encampment on the mountainside. By the time she'd arrived, the French and Spanish wizards had put aside their differences and decided to work together, recognising the threat before them. 

"I'm heading into the valley to get a closer look," Lynx announced, already moving towards the slope.

"I'll come with you," Seraphina said immediately, stepping forward.

"No." Lynx's voice was firm, brooking no argument. "I know you're a powerful witch, but it won't work against sheer numbers. Not even your Allure will affect them, at least not by much. Beastkin have natural resistance to mental manipulation. I, on the other hand, am confident in escaping if need be."

Before Seraphina could protest further, she transformed. 

Lynx started making her way down the mountain. She had some burning questions, and the Beastkin was going to answer them—one way or another.

So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Lynx meets the Beastkin and Harry tests out his new armour.

Thanks for reading. 

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