"Phantom Rebirth: The Last White Raven’s Path to the Ultimate Assassin"

The forge was alive with a gentle pulse of magical energy, the warmth of its heart still resonating from the earlier forging of Serpent’s Kiss. Emberlight flickered across the stone walls, dancing on hanging tools and ancient scrolls tucked in narrow wooden shelves.

Thalor was still feeling the weight of what he'd seen earlier—the crack in reality, the endless void, and that silent white raven. But he shook it off. For now, he had something else in mind.

He turned toward Seraphis, who was cleaning off her hands with a soft cloth, and asked, “Do you mind helping me out with another project I have in mind?”

She looked up, silver eyes sharp and curious. “Sure,” she said with a nod, “What do you have?”

Thalor reached under a nearby table, pulling out a thick parchment paper. It looked old, but carefully preserved, the edges reinforced with thin strips of treated leather. He unrolled it and laid it across the crafting table. Seraphis stepped forward, her gaze falling on the detailed drawing of a dagger—sleek, curved, and alive with runic etchings.

At the top in bold lettering:
Dagger of the Emberwraith

He tapped the parchment as he explained. “Here’s what it’s meant to do.”

Her eyes followed each description, line by line, as he spoke.

1. Flameblade: Upon command, the blade ignites in a conflagration of magical fire. This flame does not harm the wielder and can slice through armor as easily as through cloth, dealing additional fire damage with each successful strike.

2. Inferno Trail: When the user moves while wielding the dagger, they can create a trail of fire behind them for a short duration. Enemies that cross this trail take fire damage and may be ignited, suffering ongoing damage until they extinguish the flames.

3. Wall of Fire: Once per day, the wielder can drive the dagger into the ground to summon a circular wall of fire that erupts in a 10-foot radius around them. This barrier lasts for a few minutes and provides both protection and damage to those who attempt to cross it.

4. Ember Wraith Summoning: The dagger can be used to summon an Ember Wraith—an elemental spirit of fire that fights alongside the wielder for a short duration (usually one combat encounter). The wraith can unleash fiery attacks and distract enemies, making it a valuable ally in battle.

5. Heat Absorption: The dagger is capable of absorbing heat from nearby flames or fire-based attacks, converting this energy into a protective shield that temporarily boosts the wielder's resilience against fire damage.

Seraphis raised an eyebrow, impressed.

“Well,” she said with a smirk, “You’re pretty good at coming up with ideas for daggers.”

Thalor smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks.”

Her gaze dropped back to the schematic. “Judging from what it looks like... and all the stuff it needs... this one’s going to be more complex than Serpent’s Kiss.”

She traced the lines of the blade’s design with a finger. “Alright. First thing—you’re going to need to forge the core from the Dark Damascus Stone. That’ll give the blade its layered, wave-like strength. But that alone isn’t enough to hold magical flame. You’ll need to embed Black Stone along the edge in a split-layer technique—it absorbs heat naturally, but you’ll have to temper it slow. Too fast, and it fractures.”

Thalor nodded, already taking mental notes.

“And the hilt?” he asked.

“That’s where the Darkwood comes in. It’s heat-resistant and binds well with runes. You’ll need to carve fire glyphs directly into the wood—use a carving chisel dipped in liquid embers. It’ll burn the runes into place without cracking the material. Once done, we’ll bind it all with a fire-thread seal. I’ll help with the enchantment weaving.”

She looked up at him. “Do you have all the material?”

Thalor immediately responded, “Yes, I’ve got them ready.”

“Alright,” she said. “Let’s get started.”

Together they moved to the back of the forge. Thalor brought out a locked box from beneath the main crafting bench. When he opened it, Seraphis could see the shimmering raw materials inside—Dark Damascus Stone, glinting with layers of smoky silver and iron black; Black Stone, dense and matte like a piece of night; and the sturdy, fire-kissed planks of Darkwood.

With a focused breath, Thalor began working.

He smelted the Damascus Stone first, folding it with practiced rhythm—clank, fold, pound, fold. The forge glowed a bright red-orange, occasionally pulsing with added bursts of fire magic from Seraphis’s open palm. She didn’t interfere with his process, only infused the atmosphere with subtle waves of heat to allow for finer work.

Once the blade was shaped, he began embedding pieces of Black Stone into the edges. With delicate precision, he placed each shard and melded it in place with slow, circular motions, fusing them seamlessly into the blade.

Seraphis assisted next. With glowing red fingers, she reached over and gently cast Runeburn—a minor fire glyph spell—onto the carving tools.

“Use this,” she said. “The flame will guide the symbols.”

Thalor nodded and began carving. Each rune etched into the Darkwood burned golden, then cooled into soft crimson veins.

They bound the pieces together, blade and hilt, wrapping the junction with fire-thread. Then, as the final step, Seraphis wove a binding enchantment, flames dancing over the dagger in spiraling coils as she chanted under her breath in a forgotten tongue.

When the flame vanished, Thalor held the finished piece.

The Dagger of the Emberwraith was complete.

He handed it to Seraphis.

She nodded, then lifted her hand and summoned her Aetherial Appraisal. The runes in her eyes shimmered faintly—then glowed a soft green.

“Nice work,” she said with a small, satisfied smile. “You’re getting better.”

Thalor let out a breath and looked down at the blade with quiet pride.

“I used to hear stories about Ember Wraiths,” he murmured. “They were said to haunt volcanoes... spirits of fallen warriors who burned with unfinished rage.”

Seraphis looked up at him with a knowing gaze. “They’re not just stories.”

The fire crackled around them, casting long shadows—and somewhere, in the distance of another realm, the flicker of flame in an old volcano stirred.