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The pinnacle of the blacksmith's work. A weapon not even those of royal blood nor hierarchy could pick. The weapon was stubborn, just as the blacksmith was. Never based on fate but facts. If one were to try and pick the young weapon, being worthy of doing so they must show.
This put a smile on the blacksmith's face. As Smith itself would not work for anyone who did not prove to be worthy of thy skill. Keeping most of the treasures forged by its hand to be the Smith and the smith's alone.
Often struggling with its offsprings who shared similar attributes but most of the time stayed away from what the smith would deem a remarkable way of life. It was until the smith gave itself the work to forge the greatest weapon to have ever been build from its hands. Such as Elaine, the Queen of Darkness who bestowed an intersting challenge for our Smith.

And so the Smith would roam the Alternate lands in search for the finest materials.
- The netherworlds ore

Said to be used to forge the Tribunal's rings. Able to hold such power so the rings themselves would not shatter to pieces at the presence of their rightful bearers.
It was said only those of the Tribunal's guard were brave and strong enough, to pick the cursed ore from the depths of the netherworld's void.
A treacherous dwell filled with traps, spells of the ancient and eldritch horrors. Corrupting everything they touched.
It was the greatest honor a guard would hold. To be purged from this world by a tribunal member after retrieving the ore for them. As well as the blacksmiths who worked on the process.
Some said the tribunal members wished its secrets never to be shared with the rest of the world. Others claim to see each individual fall prey into madness after completing their task. That the ore would consume them.

Yet the tribunal members themselves showed how it was done.
The souls of those who were purged fell into the ore to help it stabilize, allowing it to be held safely for a short period of time. Enough to forge an item. Before the curse would be brought back to life.
Through blood and death, an item would be forged. And would be held up with great honor. For it was worth its weight and volume in souls and blood.

No one but the guards would retrieve it? Sounds like a plan. Finally a worthy challenge for the prideful smith. To put thy skills and creations to the test to help the Smith retrieve said ore from the Netherworld's depts.

A Journey never meant to be spoken, nor engraved on the likes of a book or surface. Words could not describe what the Smith witnessed. Yet thy Smith would share to those who prove themselves worthy of hearing.

"I now understand why the Tribunal never steps into the void. They need no rules, nor society. The chaos itself balances the equation. No horror let the other climb up to reach our kind. It keeps itself growing stronger yet at the same time in check. Perhaps Arthorias was right to say it would harvest the end of our world at its rightful time. No need to rush it."

The Smith's armory rests until this day on thy Smith's personal forge. As proof to be the one to carve and forge the depths of the void. And lived to tell the tale.
"...When I reach the depts, I struggled with the roars of horrors awaiting... when I rose above them. And returned at the entrance. A song came to me, from the void's heart. A song that until this day. Keeps me company."

- Alloy of the ancient ones

Black and White silver from the moon, as the stabilizing core.
Journeys to the moon were not impossible but hard to manage. The moon was just as treacherous as the netherworld. It was easier to look at the shooting stars. The hard part was surviving the hostile environment. Only a strong soul could help thy smith to move its body. Never the less, stubborn as one may be, the Smith continued. Thanks to thy journey by the void. Thy Smith was well prepared to face the challenges the moon approached, both sides, light, and dark. To dig within their many dungeons for the singular silver born only on each side of the moon. Their magical properties would help to stabilize the materials needed to produce the alloy. Cleansed by the purifying dwell at the center of the moon's core. The Silver was ready to be used.

Stardust's Diamond as the primus spell.
So that only one of the same caliber could cut against it.
Chasing for a dying star on its way across the universe. A beautiful comet, with amber bright. Hurt by the golden glory of the sun. It was thy chance. And so Thy Smith lunged forward. Concealing the dying star with the aid of the fragments of the moon. Crushing every shard of it into a single particle. A Stardust diamond was forged. The first the Blacksmith had ever done. It stole a tear from thy eyes.
"When I first held it... I felt it was alive. Looking up to me as it rested in my hand. Have I forged a living heart?"

Alloy steel as the Vessel.
Every Smith has their recipes and tricks to work their metal. This case was no exception. While nothing remarkable special in comparison with the other materials. This alloy was a signature product of her own. Crafting her finest blades with it.
This was easier to take since thy Smith had complete control over it. Unlike the rest of the ingredients. Which made it handy. Especially if she looked forward to reparations. Just in case.

Nova core, as the prideful bond between all pieces.
Nova cores are simple sun shards which are ignited by the heat of battle between flame lords at the sun's surface. Yet most Flame lords nowadays were scarce and not as strong as they used to be.

- The flames of a Firelord feed the forge.

Only the strongest flame would melt the materials together.
None the less, an old friend of Thy Smith, Queen Elaine of the darkness flame called up to thy Smith. While not as strong as her ancestors. Elaine's flames at the surface of the sun would work just like any other Fire ruler. She was... the best.
"My time has come, a new generation may carry on with our people's story. I wish you to be there... with me. Maybe I could help you work one last craft."
The Smith would not reject such unique and opportune chance to retrieve the last piece for thy blade. But knowing it would also be the last time the Smith would see Queen Elaine. It fractured thy heart. Thy Smith's generation was falling one by one as time would not forgive any of them. Let alone, thy successor was not worthy to take Elaine's place. Let alone her life. But as custom dictated. A new Queen of Darkness had to stand up from the ashes of the previous one. And as much as Elaine was loved, she was tired and could no longer rule her people with the same strength and passion she once had. This work... would be her memento as well. While there would be a new Queen of Darkness, the last of the Firelord's legacy would fade away along with Elaine's life.
Thy Smith cried next to Elain who pet thy smith's head which rested on her lap. The same song thy smith heard, would join them from Elaine's lips. Whispering gently of a promise.
"The same song... has she been there as well? No wonder she's the last Firelord...."
The song now eased thy Smith's heart. Mending it while also tormenting. The flames of Darkness would merge the materials into a single blade. And Thy Smith would only have one shot.
"For Elaine..."

With the materials in a bag, the Smith held thy heart among Queen Elaine as Smith escorted the Firelord to the sun. Along with them was the Queen of Darkness Candidate, Ruina.
"Ruina merely believed in her own strength. Sure she was able to out strength Elaine, but it was merely because of Elaine's age. In her prime, none of these lower coals could stand up to the raging inferno Elaine was."
The tension between Ruina and thy Smith was obvious. Yet Elaine eased the mood. Mumbling the song, over and over. It was fierce, nostalgic. Prideful.
That's the Elaine thy Smith knew and wished to remember. It brought tears once more which hid beneath thy Smith's helmet. Yet Elaine smile, for she knew those tears were for her.
"Fear not, It's only natural. We are vessels that burn brightly, keeping our world warm and alive. I take pride in my deeds. My life was forged as I wished. I've no regrets. I will not run from this fight. It is my departure gift. Heh..."
Her bright smile once more brought the Smith to its knees.
"... If I had to face an enemy of old times, I would have no chance to enjoy the encounter... Nor to share a departure gift for you."
The Smith cried. Holding her hand tightly which she tenderly squeezed against thy Smith's.
Ruina rolled her eyes, she couldn't wait to get this over with. She had much to conquer. Things to burn down. And raise her name as the Queen of darkness.
"I will not kill her... it is not my privilege. But I swear my blood will avenge you, Elaine."
The Smith swore in silence. Honoring her wishes to let the new generations forge their own future.
As they reached the Sun's surface, a part of Thy Smith went away with Elaine as she prepared to face her opponent. Her soul flared and the dark flames would burn brighter absorbing the sun's. Ruina's flames seemed to tower Elaine's however. But even then, Elaine remained gracefully unfaced.

The Smith rushed, placing the special incantation on the Steel last night by infusing the Stardust diamond. The Steel would not melt right away. It would take Patience until a nova core would rise in the middle of the battle.
Smith could only watch as Elaine battled the brattish teen. Exchanging blows because of Ruina's poor coordination. She had strength not experience.
However, as the Nova cores began to pop up. Elaine's age was catching up with her as well. Her reflexes were each time slower. Her strength was burning up along with her time.

The Smith was quick to retrieve the fines core one could find in the midsts of the battle to imbue it on the Steel, which started to melt it away. Using the Moon silver, the Smith was able to contain the materials from merging into the sun. Allowing thy smith to maneuver and hammer the blade into shape, using an old gift from Elaine which allowed thy Hammer and gloves to sustain the infernal heat. With Soul protect Smith was able to survive the maddening heat from the sun, the battle and the soon-to-be weapon.

The Curse was catching up, the Void core reacted to the flames. Yet Elaine's flames would fend the curse at bay.
"Elaine.... even now you..."
There was no time to lose, the Smith would put body and soul into the blade. The song endlessly echoing in her head. Sang by the void and Elaine's voice as one. Thy Smith eyes steamed for not even the tears would be able to form. Smith Roared as the last part, the core as hammered into the blade. Capturing the intense battle into the core of the weapon. Awakening the eldritch horrors stored within the ore.
The heart paused, time stopped. Turning upon its shoulder, Smith saw Elaine fade, with that smile still unfazed. Greeting her fate with grace.
"NOO!!!"
The Smith roared as Ruina laughed at her victory. Words came out from her lips. He could not listen nor would try. Bragging about her victory she did not saw Smith taking Elaine's soul to stabilize the core if only for a few seconds.
Eyes went wild as she observed how her price was stolen from her. About to make a move. She watched helplessly as Smith jumped with all it's might against the moon, leaving only its fading voice claiming.
"You're not Worthy!"
The smith's broken voice kept singing the void's song... Elaine's song. The flames and horrors inside the blade reacted to this. Soon the Smith was burning. It did not matter. Smith aimed for a cave that was carved a few months ago... Aiming straight to the purifying dwell and finish the blade in one go.

Crashing against the dwell, the magic ran wild, uncontained along with the flames and horrors trying to violently subdue one another. Smith was losing it. The blade's flames acquired a beautiful assure color, just like Elaine's eyes. It was the last thing Smith saw. Before half of the moon blew up because of the unstable reaction which finally fixed one another. Leaving the moon as the C shaped satellite we know nowadays.

Once the Smith returned to its senses. Smith would see, at last. The blade had been forged. Worn out by the curse and the trouble of performing this act along. Thy Smith could barely stand.
The body would clash against debris. An unknown force came out of nowhere. Taking the last of its strength.
"Ruina you b***h!!"
The Smith cursed before observing with horror Ruina wasn't there. A dark cloak with a skeleton mask stood before thy Smith, holding its precious work.

It shouldn't surprise the Smith, after all, Smith became a celebrity by extracting the core from the void. It was clear that wouldn't be the last thing Smith would do. The Shinigami laughed. It had all been so easy.
With its supremacy over Weapons and magical artifacts, stealing Smith's work would be a piece of cake.
He muted, noticing there was also a tribunal member. But since She didn't have any intentions to interfere. The grim reaper smirked, she would only be a witness to Smith's downfall.
Smith cursed, cried. Feeling not only its loss for Elaine but also Elaine's effort to help the Smith achieve this moment.

About to give the finishing blow on the Smith, Death paused. There was a fracture on its mask. But how? Turning at the Tribunal member, she shrugged it off. As she had no need to lower herself to do such thing.
It was then when a voice broke the silence. A child's voice. Comming from the blade, singing... along Elaine.
The song came back to Smith once more. As Death appeared unable to let go of the blade. The clove would soon start to crack as well.
And just as he did back then, Death would contemplate with horror. as the tribunal member smiled back at him. She would not interfere at all.

A spherical manifestation surrounded death. Isolating its soul within that radius along with the shinigami's figure. Grunting, he used every trick up his sleeve, trying to sever the link between them. To release himself from the magical sphere.
Inside the magical field. The flames, darkness and eldritch horrors would cut loose in a strong violent wind which started slashing, slowly but surely cutting through the shinigami.
The shinigami struggled, enduring for its might was great. But just like Elaine, time caught up with him. Making someone as strong as the Shinigami, fade away.
And so, the song that marked the departure of two elder lords. gave birth to two new others. The heir of death was now the ruler of his father's domain. As well as Ruin who took over Elaine's.

The tribunal member simply smiled.
"I hope you know what you're doing. Bibs..."
It was all she had to say before fading away. Back to her domain.
With the help of the remaining silver, the Smith was able to bring the weapon along to the forge. It rained for a month. And so the Smith named her Raine.

Unable to walk, move, or even acquire a human form. The sheer wavelength strength of said weapon would rave and cut through anyone foolish enough to walk past her.
The blacksmith often observes its bruised arms and smile proudly at the work done with her.
Whenever the blade showed hostility or the Smith simply wanted to carry her around. It would mumble of sing Elaine's lullaby.
"She appears to be fond of the song... or perhaps she likes music in general."
While she enjoyed music, at least some genres. She seemed particularly attracted to vocals and acoustic pieces. Finally, the Smith would find some progress.
None the less, her unstable nature brought her to be the Smith's most dangerous creation. Her mere emotions triggered tempest inside whatever place she was stored at. Tearing through walls and furniture alike. This was dangerous. As it meant her powers were beyond her control the Smith had to find a way to stabilize it's creation, before she destroyed everything around her by accident.
"Her powers are too much for a little girl to handle..."

Isolated, and treated with music to keep her in check most of the time. The weapon would soon learn to reshape herself. It took a few years. But one day. The Smith had a little girl running around the house. Things couldn't be even more dangerous. She was a menace when she was a standing weapon. Now that she had limbs and could run at her will. It only meant she was a walking bomb waiting for anything to trigger her maelstrom of horrors.

But after five years of cautious planning. Bibs would call the girl to sit by her side. The little girl would smile. Sitting. And resting by Bib's lap.
The Smith would then chan a lullaby, one the forger used upon Bib's grandchild. The Smith stroke the brunette's hair gently. Inviting her to rest. She was young and delighted by the lullaby's song. And so her eyes closed.
Followed by an Incantation. Bib's sealed the girl's mind and body, keeping her from ever waking. The time had come, and every second mattered. With a grandchild now running through her home. Bibs would need the Smith to guarantee her safety. The weapon was dangerous and wild. And could easily harm the small cub.
"She has a great destiny awaiting her. I would not like to see it taken from her."
The Smith understood. While thy creation was glorious and proud in power. Too much of it with no control could not lead to any good. No youngling should be cursed with so much power.
Years and years of Study and preparation allowed Bibs and the Smith to craft another Stardust diamond. To help sever the infusion. Only for a moment. And make the blade breakable.
Shattered, the Smith's creation remained silent. Cast through a rare fox fire, boosted by madness and The Observer's ring. The shard was mold and a twin set of swords was formed from what it was originally one.
Letting the girl rest. They departure to the depts of the Smith's forge. Preparing themselves to face the newest creation. All the emotional sparks. The rage, love. Stripped from the girl and poured into a younger one. Yet the body was formed. And a baby girl rested within Bib's arms instead of a raging inferno which was originally expected. Tear's of joy was brought as the Smith nor Bibs would have to destroy their creation entirely, it merely needed a few tweaks. The Smith's pride grew even more. As well as the unique arsenal that has been recently added to thy stock. From the joy created after the storm. She was named Tear. The tribunal member saw with good eyes the Smith's course of action. And decided to continue as a simple observer. To honor the Smith's quick thinking and Bib's resolve.

The next day, however, was the trial by fire. Since the Smith and Bibs had drained all of their magical power trying to keep the spell going. With the last of their magic, Raine's eyes opened from a little bed. A room of her own.

She sat, her hands reached up for her chest. Her eyes went wild. Furtive. She felt betrayed. Stolen. Incomplete. Those amber eyes would soon find the Smith, resting by a chair next to her. Bibs could only look at the Smith's reflection framed within an amber prison.

The Smith was careful. Words calm, warm and gentle. No sudden movements that could provoke the weapon. They were both exhausted and defenseless towards any retaliation the little girl would unleash upon them. They had to be careful.
"Good morning Raine. Did you sleep well."
She would not answer. The frown on her face showed the Smith was not fooling anyone. She knew something had been done to her.
"Are you feeling well?"
Asked again, to receive the same look from the girl. Observing her body language just as Raine examined the Smith's. Bibs concluded, just as The Observer and Smith. She wasn't exploding like she usual. Raine was actually analyzing the situation. Trying to figure things out by herself. She was more collected now. As if her whole childhood had been stripped away from her. Leading into a forced state of maturity. Which she immediately accepted. The Smith could bet there would be some sort of blackmail attempts from her from now on because of this.
"heh... such a clever girl."
The Smith could not be more proud. Bibs was relieved and The Observer was amused.
Raine would look up to the Smith, the creator's figure slowly towering over the young weapon. No hesitation, no fear in her eyes. It appears she still conserved some of that defiant attitude of hers. But the Smith wouldn't be pleased if the weapon did not carry the same pride as the creator.
"Raine, I have a present for you."
The girl's eyes softened. Slowly but it was a noticeable change. She was still questioning the Smith who may or may not had been too hasty at giving them back on her. There was plenty of room for retaliation. Yet she waited in bed. Holding her position for just a little longer.
With the Smith going outside the room. Raine moved the blankets away. Trying to get her feet on the floor took her a second or two. The bed was still to tall for her.
It was during the time she gave her back on the door when said door would creek again. She turned back slowly, only to find Bibs holding someone in her arms. The weapon paused, facing on their direction. Her eyes widened as she ran towards Bibs demanding to meet the child. It was a little girl... just like her... in many ways.
"Her name is Tear, She's your little sister. The only family you have... so please make sure to take good care of her."
Bibs replied. The Smith waited patiently. Ready to jump should the situation arrived.
Raine, on the other hand, showed to be strong enough to hold Tear at such young age. She could effortlessly lift her.
The young weapon would quickly run back to bed placing Tear on it as she careful get back up.
"Oh, careful there Raine."
Worried this move may have been too hasty. Bibs waited. Raine was a little more careful. Once in bed, she held the little girl like a teddy bear.
From then on. The young weapon became more and more responsible. Holding that smaller version of her dearly. For she was all she had in this world.