Irwin's Journey chapter 14: Anvil of the gods

Small stones pressed in his soles as Irwin moved across the path, some so sharp they hurt his tender flesh. Worse, the ground was hot enough to hurt his feet, and as he moved along it, his heartbeat shot up. The air was odd, thick, and hard to breathe, and he kept taking peaks at the lava. It seemed as bright as the sun in some spots, with dark swirling patterns as the stone above hardened and darkened slightly as it reached the surface before being moved back below by the churning.

Halfway across the path, a dull, droning snore joined the bubbling and hissing of the molten rock.

Perhaps he'll just remain sleeping, Irwin thought as he reached one of the most narrow parts, barely enough for him to put two feet side by side. Twenty feet beyond was a larger outcropping of stone, after which was the last part. Putting his feet forward, an odd movement came from his left, accompanied by a sloshing sound. Irwin's heart skipped a beat as he turned.

A large black head rose from the lava, the molten rock sliding from it. Two narrow yellow irises sat in massive gray eyes, focused intently on him. The thing reminded him of the snakes that sometimes found their way into Malorin during the hottest summer days.

Irwin froze- unable to move as the massive thing rose further. Its lips parted, and a long tongue flicked between four canines the size of his legs. Slowly the thing moved forward.

Irwin's legs began shaking, and it took all of his effort to keep his bladder under control as the thing moved to within a foot of him, hanging partially over the narrow path.. A burning hot air came from two slits on its nose.

I don't want to be eaten alive, he thought as the lips parted again. He should have fled as soon as the thing appeared. I'm such an idiot. Why didn't I just go up and search for-

The tongue slowly moved forward, its tip touching the flame above his hand. There was a tiny outburst of sparks as the flame surged up to its maximum size, and the tongue slowly retreated. There was another sniffing sound, and the massive head cocked to the side, a curious interest radiating from its eyes.

It's like Bullwinkel's hounds, Irwin thought as he blinked. The tongue licked forward again, this time touching his chest. His shirt and jacket caught fire and turned to dust so fast he didn't even feel the flames, then he felt a soft pressure where the tongue pressed against him. It was incredibly hot, to the point of pain, but Irwin remained motionless.

The snake, or whatever it was, remained like that for a few seconds, then withdrew, leaving a smooth and painful spot on Irwin's now bare and boney chest. Its large eyes focused on Irwin's flame, then Irwin, then the lips parted, and the head sank down into the molten rock, leaving no more than a wobble.

Irwin fell back and thudded on his ass, not even caring that his pants flamed up and turned to ash. His flame was hovering above his hand as he stared in disbelief at the lava. Had that been a demon? It didn't feel like one or even intelligent. Well, no more than a hound. And why was it even in this practice portal? After a second, he licked his lips, frowned, and crawled up. Something nagged at the back of his mind like he was missing something, but he didn't care.

He looked at the path, the lava that had dropped on it already cooling, and then back. Should he continue? What if the thing had just given him a warning? He hesitated, looked at the edge of the anvil that he could see from here and the chain. The Linchpin beckoned, and he prayed to Gelwin that a giant lava snake wouldn't eat him.

Flame to the side, he carefully snuck across the trail. As he closed in on the last stop, he saw no sign of the snake. Only when he stepped on the larger outcrop did he notice an odd movement in the lava fifty feet from him. It didn't come closer, but a slight elevation appeared for a moment before disappearing again.

Stepping on the relative safety of the wider platform, Irwin rose to his toes, trying to see if the Imp was still before the anvil. However, the jagged stone surface on which they stood was too high, and the closer he got, the more the edge blocked his view of what was atop. Taking a deep breath, he wondered if he should take a break before moving the last bit. Prodding and probing his legs showed they were fine, though, and he continued along the final, wider path.

Five minutes later, he slowly pulled himself up the ledge, his toes pressed against the warm stone as he tried to find a good handhold. His flame was angled back on his hand, the tip darting up and over the edge. The hot stone crumbled, dust raining on his face. Holding his breath, he peaked over and instantly retreated. The Imp was a short distance away, seeming even larger now that he was this close, and the massive anvil cast a shadow across the area. There was no shout or surprised screams, so Irwin looked again. The Imp didn't move, its chest moving up and down as it snored.

Behind it, hanging from thick chains, hung the red jewel, its facets glimmering and glittering from the many light sources. Dozens of blemishes and scratches covered it and the chain, with dark rust marring parts of the dull metal.

Did something try to break it? Irwin thought. He looked at the Imp and, after a little hesitation, pulled himself up, making sure not to touch his own flame. He still hadn't tried that, and knowing what it did with the Imps, he was reluctant to try.

A rock cracked below his foot, and a smaller one shot away, clattering across the stone before plummeting over the side. Gritting his teeth at the pain and hoping he hadn't cut himself, Irwin stared at the Imp. It grumbled, snorted, then continued snoring.

Too close.

Flame forward, Irwin snuck toward the Imp. If he could end that one-

"What an interesting flame," a soft, crystal-clear voice whispered.

Irwin almost had a heart attack, and with a face drained of blood, he stared at the Imp. It was still snoring, appearing deep asleep.

"Probably can't understand me," the voice muttered, annoyed.

Irwin looked up and around and saw a mouth on the side of the massive anvil, lips curved down in discontent.

Irwin just gazed at it. This wasn't happening, was it? He'd heard about talking weapons from rare cards, and there were rumors of a hero on the wall that had an armor imbued by another, but this?

Irwin licked his lips. "What- what are you," he whispered.

The lips froze, then shivered as if suppressing something. "You can speak Firion… how?" The lips curled up in a wide smile. "Fantastic! What's your name, young one?"

Irwin hesitated, then softly whispered his name.

"Hmm, an odd name," the anvil muttered. "Well, as for what I am? So young and already turning blind.. So sad. Well, you do look fairly skeletal, so perhaps you are sick?"

Irwin didn't know if it was a question or not, but the anvil continued without wait.

"I'm an Anvil! And a fantastic one at that," the anvil said in a slightly louder whisper. "I'm Ambraz, Anvil of the gods! The Infernal Titan lord once used me to craft Glibzwonger, the dagger of Fury!"

Irwin stared at it. The names told him nothing besides sounding extravagant. He'd never heard of an Infernal Titan lord either…

"A good flame you have there, Kiddo! That could probably heat metal nicely if you find some decent Emerald or Ruby cards to increase its power! Ever think about becoming a smith?" Ambraz grinned, showing a mouthful of shiny golden teeth.

A snort from the Imp caused Irwin to start, and he held his breath until it snored again.

"Ah! Don't worry about that thing- he's far gone. Been trying to remove this binding that those nasty sorcerers placed on me to get us out of this horrible trap. Not that he is going to succeed, he'd have to grow twice as strong, and there's no time for that, with this shitty place resetting every day."

Irwin looked at the anvil, then turned to the Imp. He'd almost forgotten about it, and he was wasting time. What if it woke up? He raised his hand and took a step towards the Imp.

"That won't work," Ambraz said. "Durpy over there is on the cusp of having an Emerald soul. That Ruby card of yours might be from a stronger beast, but it won't ash him like it probably did those Quartz-souled Imps you saw above."

Irwin had stopped moving and was staring at the anvil, utterly confused. "Ruby card?" he whispered.

"Ah, right, you people on this plane don't use the regular wording… let's see… you would call it a Special card? Such a bother. You should really use the proper names!"

"..." Irwin dumbly stared at him, unsure what to say.

"Don't give me that look!" Ambraz said louder than before, and Irwin automatically crawled down, staring at the Imp. It didn't react, still snoring.

Perhaps it's trying to keep me talking so the Imp can wake? Irwin thought suddenly, then shoved the thought away. If that were true, the anvil could have just shouted loudly…

"Do you have a way for me to end him? I need to find the Linchpin," he asked, deciding it couldn't hurt to try.

"Hmmm…" Ambraz's lips pursed again, and Irwin could almost picture him tapping his chin with a finger. "Well… why would I help you?"

Irwin didn't know what to say, trying to come up with a quick solution. The problem was he was thoroughly confused by the whole situation. As he searched for something to say, the anvil hummed a tune before speaking again. "Well… I could help you. But only if you do something for me."

Irwin's hair rose. What did it mean with that? "Wu- what do you want?" he muttered softly, stepping back towards the edge.

"If you can get me out of here, I'll help you in any way I can," Ambraz said softly, his voice having a sudden deep rumble.

"But this is a fake portal," Irwin muttered. "You're not-"

"Real? Kiddo, those sorcerers really don't tell anything to the poor saps they send in here, do they? Do you really think they could create something like this? Bah… not even if they get a full set of diamond cards! Pfah! This is a binding. A powerful spell created by one of them to hold me here and use my energy to create this tiny world. Prison, really. Stuck in time and resetted every time someone enters or every day. Whichever comes first."

Irwin looked at the Imp, then Ambraz, and frowned. What was that thing anyway… it said it was an Anvil, but it was too big, and it talked. Also, even if he wanted to bring it out, how would he even lift it?

The anvil seemed to read his mind as it sniffed. "Don't worry about my size! If you can remove that chain, I can shrink to the size of your thumb if I want to!"

It was quiet for a few moments as Irwin thought about what Ambraz had said. If the anvil could help him get the Linchpin, he'd be able to get a new card and perhaps not even have to return here… but would bringing him out destroy this portal? The sorcerers might get upset with him! He shivered as he thought about angering the sorcerers.

"What will happen to this place if you are gone?" he whispered.

"Nothing! Those fool sorcerers bound both me and this fat-ass in here. Overkill! One of us would have been plenty to power this tiny plane. Don't worry. If you help me out, nobody will be the wiser… at least not for a few years. Perhaps eventually someone will wonder why the cards they gain for beating this place have dropped in quality, but with only one in a thousand cards being amethyst, that won't be a while yet."

Irwin cocked his head as a sudden idea came to him. "Can you get me another card if I help you out?" he asked.

"Ohhh, making demands already?" Ambraz snapped before letting out a loud snort.

"Ughhh, keep it down, you stupid chunk of metal," a high-pitched voice came as the snoring stopped. "I'm trying to-... wait, who are you talking to?"

Irwin jumped back towards the ledge just as the Imp rolled over. Its bleary yellow eyes blinked as it took in Irwin, then widened as he struggled up. "Human! Finally, something to play with," the Imp screamed.

"Help me," Irwin shouted as he backed up, terrified as the hulking Imp waggled towards him. He raised his hand, flame outward, and the Imp cackled in glee.

"Errr…" the anvil muttered, its mouth turning into a thin line. "I can't do much with this thing on me… sorry. You shouldn't have made so much noise!"

You made the noise! Irwin thought. His foot touched the plateau's edge, and he almost fell backward, barely holding his balance.

"You've been talking with this plaything instead of waking me?" the Imp snarled as it took a quick look at the anvil. "I'll remember that!"

"Bah- you have been trying to break that chain for over four thousand days and are no closer! The last few hundred, you barely tried! Can't blame an Anvil for trying other venues!"

As the Imp scowled at Ambraz, Irwin lowered himself to his knees and dropped down the edge. He had no serious plan, but in the back of his mind, he decided he'd prefer burning in the lava over getting tortured by that Imp. The image of the Orc's long scars, bruises, and horrible mutilations was far too scary.

"Don't leave," the Imp squealed as he began stomping towards Irwin. The wings on its back flapped back, each stretching so far to the side that it almost looked comical. If he didn't know what the fat Imp was capable of, Irwin might have laughed… maybe.

He lowered himself, and dropped down, landing on the small ledge, before turning and running to the narrow path. A thunderous flapping came from behind him, similar to his mother beating out the rugs in spring, but then a thousand times louder.

"Get back here… I'm too tired, and if you make me catch you, it'll only be worse!"

Irwin didn't believe a word of what the Imp said, and unlike the previous time, he ran over the path. As always, his mind seemed busy with other things as he ran, and suddenly alerted him of the fact that his legs weren't as painful as they should be, and there was something wrong with his lips. Irwin gritted his teeth as he ran. Why was he thinking about that now?

A soft woosh was all the warning he got, and he simply let himself fall forward. A burning pain came from his back as the skin was torn apart. Then the thunderous flapping came again, so loud Irwin covered his ears while looking back. The Imp was gaining altitude again, turning around for a second pass.

He scrambled up, feeling the blood run down his back. How his flame was still up, he didn't know, nor why it comforted him. But it did. Holding it in front of him like a shield, he backed up till his foot was at the edge of the path. The burning lava came from his back, and he prepared himself to drop in.

"Careful!" the Imp screeched. "If you fall in, I'll have no fun, and that'll make me mad!"

Somehow, the idiocy of the remark caused Irwin's fear to be replaced by a rapidly growing anger. The bottled-up resentment and irritation of the last few days in this portal surged forward all at once. Couldn't this stupid Imp just drop dead? Why was everything so- so… so hard! One hit as it swoops down, he thought as he glared at the Imp. Even if it didn't ash the thing, it would hopefully hurt!

"Yes, wait right there," the Imp cackled as it dove down, wings spread out like the kites of the wealthy kids during the summer.

Irwin lowered himself, his heartbeat thundering in his ears as the Imp came toward him. Two feet away, the Imp's eyes widened, and it made an odd flap as if to move away, but it was too late. Its claws were a foot from Irwin, who jumped back while spreading his flame forward. It sizzled as it hit the Imp's leg, which howled while trying to flap up and back, a look of panic and fear on its ugly face.

What's going on? Irwin thought just as he fell back. He fully expected to collide with the molten rock, but instead, he thudded on something hard and smooth. It was hot, burning so, and he felt what remained of his pants, shirt, and coat burn away, scalding his skin.

Wait… why am I going up?

Irwin lay, stunned, as the Imp seemed to rapidly close in, which was odd as it was flying away as fast it seemed able. The ground tilted, and Irwin slid back. He yelped and scrambled for a handheld and barely managed to hold on to some odd round edges that covered the surface. Then he hung, and the Imp was gone. Feeling his arms burning as he dangled from his fingers, he heard a high-pitched scream. For a moment, he thought it was his own. Then he realized his jaw was hurting from how hard he was clenching his teeth.

The thing he was holding moved forward again, and a few moments later, the strain on his fingers and arms disappeared, and he lay horizontal, panting and completely confused.

Face on the ground, or whatever it was, he heard a deep thumping and, a second later, an odd hum.

"I'd get off its back before it realizes you aren't one of its long-lost halfbreads that looks funny," Ambraz shouted.

It what? Irwin got up, confused. The edge of the plateau was in front of him, almost level with the ground he stood on. The anvil's mouth was drawn in a thin line.

"Get off, Kiddo. Hurry!" the anvil snapped.

Irwin automatically stepped forward and jumped onto the plateau before turning around.

The giant black snakehead hung before him, its yellow-slitted eyes locked onto him, and he sensed the curiosity in them again.

"Bow!" the anvil snapped, and Irwin instantly did so. When he got back up, the snake was turning away before sinking back into the lava below.

"What… what just happened?" Irwin whispered.

"I guess old Black Scale finally had enough of the flying pest. Not that it will do either of us any good. Durpy will just return in a few hours when this stupid plane resets. Isn't even really dead… just locked away."

Irwin took a few steps, swayed, and sat down with a thud. The threads of his clothes hung around him, and he stupidly thought it was a good thing they would return when he exited the portal. Otherwise, his mum would be mad.

"So…" Ambraz said with a half smile on its lips. "Now, how about you see what that little flame of yours can do on this chain?"