Andrew Slayn
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Chapter 3: Divine Interest
🕑 Added 2025-04-15 16:30:18 +0000 UTCThe celestial realm existed in a state that defied mortal comprehension—neither here nor there, but somehow everywhere at once. Light flowed like water, and time stretched and compressed according to whims rather than laws. Within this impossible space, Amaranthia reclined on a throne that seemed to be carved from solidified stardust, her iridescent hair flowing in an invisible current as she gazed into a viewing pool.
The pool itself was a circular depression filled with what appeared to be liquid silver, though its surface rippled with colors that had no names in human languages. Currently, it displayed a clear image of Andrew Slayn entering the Artificers' Guild for the first time, his young face a mixture of awe and determination.
"Look at him," Amaranthia murmured, her voice carrying harmonics that would shatter mortal eardrums. "Already finding loopholes. Two months in, and he's managed to secure guild membership."
"Did you expect anything less from your favorite adversary?"
Amaranthia looked up at the newcomer with mild irritation. Discordia appeared as a woman with constantly shifting features—one moment bearing the face of a stern lecturer, the next a mischievous debater. Her form settled momentarily into that of a tall, elegant figure draped in robes that seemed woven from constellations of arguments and counterpoints, her hair a cascading flow of rhetorical devices.
"He is not my 'favorite' anything," Amaranthia replied, though her fingers traced the edge of the viewing pool with something akin to fondness. "He's a presumptuous mortal who needed a lesson in humility."
Discordia, goddess of discussions, debates, and disagreements, laughed—a sound like a thousand compelling arguments all cascading at once. "Two months of your attention for a 'presumptuous mortal'? I've seen you create and destroy entire universes with less consideration." She leaned over the pool, studying Andrew as he was introduced to Renata Bayes. "You must admit, he has a certain... spark."
"He has a certain arrogance," Amaranthia corrected, though there was less heat in her words than she intended. "Critiquing my work as if millennia of careful design could be improved by a human who's barely existed for two decades."
"And yet," Discordia said, a sly smile forming on her lips, "you didn't simply crush him like the insignificant speck he is. Instead, you gave him exactly what he claimed to want—a chance to prove his theories." She settled onto a nearby seat that materialized from swirling cosmic dust. "That seems rather... generous."
Amaranthia waved a dismissive hand, causing ripples across the viewing pool. "It's more entertaining this way. His struggles will be instructive."
"Speaking of struggles," Discordia said, her tone sharpening slightly, "it was rather petty to send him there without any inherent magical ability, don't you think? In a world where magic is the fundamental currency of power?"
For a brief moment, something like guilt flickered across Amaranthia's cosmic features. "I gave him exactly what he claimed was sufficient—his knowledge and his grandfather's techniques. He insisted those were enough to revolutionize magical crafting."
"Without actual magic to work with?" Discordia raised an eyebrow that momentarily took the shape of a perfect syllogism. "Even for us, that seems a bit... vindictive."
Amaranthia's eyes flashed—literal supernovas blooming and dying in their depths. "He specifically claimed that understanding the underlying principles was more important than innate magical ability. I merely created the perfect test case for his hypothesis."
"But even you needed magic—godly magic at that—to build even the most whimsical of your systems," Discordia pointed out, her tone sharpening into the perfect counterargument. "Yet he seems to be accomplishing what he claimed possible. Creating magical circuits without magic? That's rather impressive, don't you think?"
Amaranthia waved a dismissive hand, though her eyes followed Andrew's movements in the pool with heightened interest. "He's using existing magical components. The lacrima provides the power."
"Which he's directing with unprecedented precision for a non-mage," Discordia pressed. "You're not exactly creating a fair comparison here."
"Hmm." Discordia's gaze turned knowing. "And I suppose this has nothing to do with him invoking his dead grandfather to criticize your work?"
The viewing pool rippled violently, almost splashing over its edges before Amaranthia calmed herself. "That was... particularly galling," she admitted. "Human lives are so brief, their understanding so limited. Yet they speak with such certainty about matters beyond their comprehension."
"And yet you've given this particular human your undivided attention for months now," Discordia noted, her voice gentler. "I've known you since before this universe crystallized, Amaranthia. You've never been this invested in proving a mortal wrong."
Amaranthia didn't respond immediately. In the pool, Andrew was now being shown a complex enchanting apparatus by Renata, his eyes lighting up with understanding and excitement. Despite his youth and lack of magical ability, the boy was clearly grasping concepts that had taken others years to master.
"Perhaps," Amaranthia finally said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I was curious to see if he might actually have a point."
Discordia's eyes widened in genuine surprise—a rare expression for the goddess of debate, who prided herself on never being caught off-guard in any discussion. "Now that is interesting."
"His fundamental critique wasn't entirely without merit," Amaranthia continued, watching as Andrew sketched something in a notebook, gesturing animatedly to Renata. "The integration of emotional resonance with metallurgical principles... it's an avenue I hadn't fully explored in that particular reality. His understanding of material properties and how they might interact with ethernano was... unexpectedly insightful."
"So you transported him to Fairy Tail to... what? Collaborate?" Discordia sounded both amused and intrigued.
"Hardly," Amaranthia scoffed, though without real conviction. "To test his theories. To see if his understanding translates to practical application. If he fails, as is likely, he'll learn a valuable lesson about the complexity of integrating magic and metallurgy."
"And if he succeeds?" Discordia pressed.
Amaranthia was silent for a long moment, her cosmic eyes unreadable. "Then perhaps I'll have something new to consider for the next iteration."
Discordia leaned back, a satisfied smile spreading across her features. "You like him."
"I find him mildly interesting," Amaranthia corrected primly. "Most mortals accept the systems they're given without question. His willingness to challenge, to analyze—it's refreshing. If somewhat presumptuous."
"Mmm-hmm." Discordia's tone was knowing. "Is that why you check on him so frequently? I've noticed you watching his progress at least three times daily."
"Merely monitoring my experiment," Amaranthia said, though a faint hue like a nebula's heart colored her ethereal cheeks. "The boy has a tendency to get himself into trouble. His approach to magical theory is recklessly experimental."
As if on cue, the viewing pool showed Andrew carefully connecting a small lightning lacrima to what appeared to be a makeshift circuit board, his face intent with concentration.
"Speaking of which," Amaranthia added, leaning forward with sudden interest, "he's attempting something new."
Discordia peered into the pool. "What is that contraption?"
"He's creating a magical circuit to channel elemental energy in specific patterns," Amaranthia explained, her tone reluctantly impressed. "It's primitive, but the fundamental concept is sound. He's applying principles from his world's electronics to magical energy direction."
"Clever," Discordia admitted. "Not many mortals would think to cross-apply technologies from different realities."
"Yes, well," Amaranthia sniffed, "he has the benefit of perspective. Being from a world where magic is fictional gives him a certain analytical distance."
In the pool, Andrew successfully activated his device, transforming a small piece of metal through directed magical energy. The boy's face lit up with triumph, and Amaranthia's lips curled into the smallest of smiles.
"You're going soft," Discordia teased, catching the expression. "The great Amaranthia, architect of magical frameworks across ten thousand realities, pleased by a mortal boy's simple triumph."
"Nonsense," Amaranthia said, composing her features. "I'm simply monitoring progress."
"Mm-hmm." Discordia rose from her seat, which dissolved back into cosmic dust. "Well, when you're done 'monitoring progress,' perhaps you might consider a small adjustment to your experiment."
Amaranthia looked up sharply. "What kind of adjustment?"
"Nothing major," Discordia said with a casual wave of her hand. "Just... perhaps a pathway to magical development? The boy is clearly working within the constraints you've given him, but even you must admit the deck is rather stacked against him."
"That was the point," Amaranthia said, though with less conviction than before.
"Was it?" Discordia asked, her voice gentle but probing. "Or was the point to see if his theories had merit? Because if it's the latter, then testing those theories without access to the very thing they're meant to integrate with seems... counterproductive."
The viewing pool rippled as Amaranthia considered this. In its depths, Andrew was carefully recording his observations in a notebook, his young face serious with concentration.
"I'll take it under advisement," Amaranthia finally said, her tone noncommittal.
Discordia laughed, the sound like a perfect rebuttal. "Which means you've already been considering it." She began to fade from view, her form dissolving into a shower of logical propositions and rhetorical flourishes. "I look forward to seeing how your 'experiment' progresses, dear friend. It's not often I see you this invested in a single mortal's development."
As Discordia's presence faded completely, Amaranthia returned her full attention to the viewing pool. Andrew was now sleeping, his notebook clutched to his chest, pages filled with diagrams and calculations that showed remarkable insight for someone without formal magical training.
"Hmm," she murmured, tracing a finger along the surface of the pool. Where her finger passed, a small ripple of energy followed, descending into the image and settling over the sleeping boy like an invisible blanket. "Perhaps a small adjustment wouldn't harm the integrity of the experiment."
The energy pulsed once, twice, then sank into Andrew's form, leaving no visible trace. Amaranthia sat back, a thoughtful expression on her cosmic features.
"Sleep well, presumptuous smith," she whispered. "Tomorrow may bring... interesting developments."
In his small room behind Bron's forge, Andrew Slayn shifted in his sleep, his dreams suddenly filled with patterns of energy and metal, formulas and equations that danced just beyond his conscious understanding. His fingers twitched, reaching for something unseen, while outside his window, the stars of Fiore twinkled with unusual brightness, as if the heavens themselves were taking special interest in the dreams of one displaced young blacksmith.
Andrew woke with a start, his mind buzzing with ideas that seemed to have materialized from nowhere. Fragments of dreams clung to the edges of his consciousness—formulas, patterns, connections between magical energy and metallurgical principles that he hadn't considered before.
He fumbled for his notebook, nearly knocking it from the small table beside his cot, and began frantically sketching a design that had appeared with perfect clarity in his mind during the night—a new configuration for his magical circuit that would allow for more precise control of elemental energy.
"Where did that come from?" he muttered, his pencil flying across the page. The design was more advanced than anything he'd attempted before, incorporating principles he'd barely begun to grasp.
A soft golden light suddenly caught his attention. Looking down, he was startled to see faint golden lines tracing along his forearms—patterns that resembled circuit pathways, glowing briefly before fading back into his skin.
"What the—" he whispered, almost dropping his pencil. He hadn't done anything to cause this, hadn't activated any magical devices. The glow pulsed once more, then disappeared completely, leaving his skin unmarked.
Andrew stared at his arms, then back at his notebook, where the design he'd sketched bore a striking resemblance to the patterns that had momentarily appeared on his skin. A slow smile spread across his face as understanding dawned.
"Interesting development indeed," he said to the empty room, a mixture of suspicion and excitement in his voice. "Seems like someone's decided to make this a fair fight after all."
He looked up toward the ceiling, as if he could see through it to the celestial realm beyond. Despite everything, a wave of genuine gratitude washed over him.
"Thank you," he whispered sincerely. "Being in Fairy Tail was always a dream... just being here is amazing. But being here without magic—" he flexed his fingers, watching for any trace of the golden patterns, "—that was just cruel."
His expression softened into something less combative than his usual demeanor. "I'll still prove my theories right, cosmic lady. But... thanks for giving me a fighting chance to do it properly."
In the celestial realm, Amaranthia turned away from the viewing pool, but not before the slightest smile crossed her cosmic features.
"You're welcome, presumptuous smith," she murmured, her voice carrying no further than the swirling mists around her throne.
Andrew couldn't concentrate on his regular apprentice duties. All day, as he pumped the bellows for Bron and fetched various tools, his mind kept returning to the golden patterns that had appeared on his arms that morning. By mid-afternoon, he had nearly dropped a crucible of molten metal when he felt a strange tingling sensation dance across his palms.
"Focus, boy!" Bron barked, though his concerned eyes betrayed his gruff tone. "I've never seen you this distracted. Are you ill?"
"No, sir. Just... thinking about a new project," Andrew replied, not entirely lying.
Bron raised a bushy eyebrow. "Whatever it is can wait until after work hours. Now hold that steady while I pour."
When the workday finally ended, Andrew practically sprinted to his small room, grateful that Bron had decided to close early to visit an old friend at a local tavern. Elisa had gone to her weekly meeting at the library, leaving Andrew alone in the forge—the perfect opportunity to experiment.
He closed his door, laid out his notebook, and sat cross-legged on the floor. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and tried to recapture the sensation he'd felt that morning.
"Okay," he muttered to himself. "If this is what I think it is, it should respond to intent and focus."
Andrew recalled what he knew about magic in Fairy Tail. Unlike many other anime worlds, magic here was powered by Ethernano—magical particles that existed throughout the environment and within mages themselves. According to the anime, a mage's magical container stored this energy inside their body, and different types of magic involved manipulating this energy in different ways.
After fifteen minutes of fruitless meditation, he sighed in frustration. "Come on, cosmic lady. You can't just give me a taste and then take it away."
He glanced down at his notebook, at the intricate circuit designs he'd sketched that morning. Maybe he was approaching this wrong. If the patterns on his arms had resembled circuits...
"What if it's about directing the flow of Ethernano, not just summoning raw magic?" he murmured, a new theory forming.
Andrew grabbed a small iron rod from his collection of materials and held it in his left hand. With his right, he traced a pattern on his forearm similar to the ones he'd seen that morning.
"Ethernano flows through the environment and through mages," he recited, remembering the fundamentals. "Magic is about directing that flow with purpose and intent."
He focused intently on the iron, imagining the magical particles flowing through his body, through the circuits on his skin, and into the metal. He visualized the Ethernano rearranging the iron's molecular structure, strengthening the lattice formation.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, a faint golden glow began to trace along his right arm, following the pattern he'd drawn. The glow extended to his fingertips, then to the iron rod, which began to warm in his hand.
Andrew watched, breathless, as the iron took on a subtle blue-gray sheen, different from its original dull gray. When the glow faded, he tested the rod against another piece of iron, dragging it across the surface.
The rod left a scratch mark on the unmodified iron.
"Holy shit," he whispered, staring at his hands. "I just directed Ethernano to transmute iron without heat or additional elements."
He grabbed his notebook and frantically began documenting the experience, sketching the circuit pattern that had appeared on his arm and noting the changes in the metal. His mind raced with possibilities. This wasn't exactly like Maker Magic, though it had similarities. It wasn't Dragon Slayer Magic or any of the standard categories, but it still used the fundamental Ethernano that powered all magic in this world.
"Circuit Smith Magic?" he murmured, testing the name. "No, that's not quite right." He tapped his pencil against the paper thoughtfully. "Ethernano Integration... Metallic Integration Magic."
He tried again, this time with a small copper sample. As he focused, the circuit patterns appeared more quickly, glowing a bit brighter than before. The copper shifted in his hand, taking on a crystalline quality that regular copper couldn't achieve.
Over the next few hours, Andrew experimented with different materials and different circuit patterns. Some worked better than others. He discovered that drawing the circuits physically on his skin with a non-magical marker helped focus the Ethernano flow. Each material responded differently to the magical energy, and each required slightly different circuit patterns for optimal results.
By midnight, exhausted but exhilarated, Andrew had filled several pages with notes and had successfully modified samples of iron, copper, silver, and a small piece of steel. The magic drained his Ethernano reserves—he could feel his magical energy depleting with each use, just like mages in the anime experienced—but the results were undeniable.
The next morning, Andrew approached Bron's forge with a new sense of purpose. Today was the day he would attempt to incorporate his newfound magic into actual smithing.
"Master Bron," he said as the old smith stoked the morning fire, "would you mind if I worked on a personal project during lunch break? I've been developing a new technique I'd like to try."
Bron eyed him suspiciously. "This have anything to do with your distraction yesterday?"
"Yes, sir. I think I've figured it out now, though."
Bron grunted. "Fine. But your regular duties come first, and I want to see what you're working on. No more secret midnight experiments that could burn down my forge."
Throughout the morning, Andrew worked diligently, but his mind kept returning to the planned experiment. When lunchtime finally arrived, he quickly set up a small workspace with a basic forging setup—a miniature forge, small anvil, quenching oil, and basic tools.
He selected a piece of high-carbon steel that Bron had deemed scrap due to some impurities in the metal. Perfect for experimentation—if he failed, nothing of value would be lost.
First, he heated the metal conventionally in the forge until it glowed a bright orange-red. Then, instead of immediately hammering it, he pulled it out with tongs and laid it on the anvil. With his free hand, he traced a specific circuit pattern on his forearm—one designed for structural enhancement.
The golden lines appeared, glowing through the soot and sweat on his skin. Ethernano flowed from his magical container, through the circuits on his arm, and into the hot metal, which began to glow with the same golden light, overlaying its heat-glow.
"What in the world?" Bron's voice came from behind him, but Andrew couldn't break his concentration.
The magic flowed into the steel, seeking out the impurities. Instead of removing them, as conventional refining would attempt, Andrew's magic was integrating them, creating ordered structures within the metal that actually utilized the impurities to strengthen the overall lattice.
When the glow faded, Andrew quickly began hammering the still-hot metal, shaping it into a simple blade. The steel responded differently than any he'd worked before—more malleable when hot, yet taking and holding an edge better as it cooled.
After quenching and a basic polish, Andrew held up the small knife he'd created. It had a distinctive pattern reminiscent of Damascus steel, but with golden-hued waves running through the metal instead of the typical gray-and-white patterns.
Bron approached cautiously, his expert eyes examining the blade. "What did you just do, boy?"
Andrew handed him the knife. "I call it Integration Magic. It's a way to magically direct Ethernano to reorganize the molecular structure of metal while preserving and utilizing its natural characteristics."
Bron tested the edge with his thumb, then flexed the blade slightly to test its resilience. His bushy eyebrows rose higher with each test.
"This is mage-work," he said finally, looking at Andrew with new eyes. "You never mentioned you had magical ability."
"I didn't... until recently," Andrew replied honestly. "It just manifested yesterday. I've been studying magical theory at the Artificers' Guild, and something just... clicked."
Bron handed the knife back, his expression unreadable. "The old texts speak of Smith-Mages from centuries ago who could sense the Ethernano within metals, could understand its flow in ways ordinary smiths never could." He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "They were said to create weapons and armor of extraordinary quality, items that responded to their wielders almost as if alive."
Andrew's heart raced. This was exactly the kind of magical smithing he'd theorized about in his debates.
"I want to learn more," he said eagerly. "To develop this ability properly."
Bron nodded slowly. "Your Wednesday sessions at the Guild just became more important. And..." he hesitated, as if making a difficult decision, "there are some books in my private collection that might help you. Books I haven't shared with an apprentice in many years."
Elisa burst into the forge, her eyes wide with excitement. "Andrew! I felt Ethernano surging from across town! You've awakened magic!" She rushed over to examine the knife, her Metal-Make gauntlets gleaming in the forge light. "This is... I've never seen anything like this pattern."
"Integration Magic," Bron told her, a hint of pride creeping into his gruff voice. "The boy's developed a way to magically enhance metal at the structural level while working it."
"That's why your experiments with the circuits were so effective," Elisa realized, looking at Andrew with new understanding. "You weren't just channeling external magic through devices—you were unconsciously directing Ethernano through pathways you created. Your magical container was feeding the process all along."
Andrew nodded, thinking back to Amaranthia's "gift" and how it had built upon what he was already developing. She hadn't given him a completely new ability—she'd awakened his magical container and his ability to sense and direct Ethernano, something that aligned perfectly with his knowledge and experience.
"I need to document the different circuit patterns and their effects," he said, already planning his next steps. "Each one seems to direct Ethernano in ways that create different properties in the metal."
Bron cleared his throat. "You'll need a proper magical forge to develop this ability fully. The standard equipment won't be sufficient for high-level Ethernano manipulation."
"The Artificers' Guild has experimental forges," Elisa suggested. "With your new magic, they might grant you access."
Andrew looked down at his hands, where faint traces of the golden circuits still shimmered beneath his skin. This was it—the beginning of the path he'd been seeking since arriving in this world. A way to prove his theories about integrating modern metallurgical knowledge with Fairy Tail's magic system.
"Thank you both," he said sincerely. "For believing in me even when all I had were crazy ideas."
Bron clasped his shoulder firmly. "Ideas are the seeds of innovation, boy. But it takes work and knowledge to make them grow." The old smith's eyes twinkled. "Now you have all the tools you need. Let's see what you can forge with them."
High above, beyond the sight of mortals, Amaranthia watched the scene unfold in her viewing pool, her cosmic features unreadable. Beside her, Discordia materialized again.
"Well," the goddess of debate observed, "he's certainly making the most of your gift."
"It was merely a catalyst," Amaranthia replied, watching as Andrew carefully traced another circuit on his arm. "The potential was already there. I simply awakened his magical container and his ability to sense Ethernano."
"Mmm-hmm," Discordia hummed knowingly. "And I suppose you're not at all pleased that he's developing exactly the kind of magical smithing he theorized about?"
Amaranthia didn't answer immediately, her gaze fixed on the intricate patterns Andrew was creating—patterns that, if she were honest, showed remarkable insight into the fundamental structures of Ethernano flow.
A subtle smile formed on her cosmic features. "I am... satisfied," she admitted finally. "His success validates the underlying frameworks of my design. He couldn't achieve this without a genuine understanding of how Ethernano interacts with physical matter." She traced a finger along the edge of the viewing pool. "For all his arrogance, the boy has an intuitive grasp of magical theory that few mortals possess."
"So you're admitting he was right?" Discordia asked, unable to hide her amusement.
"I'm admitting he understood my work better than I initially gave him credit for," Amaranthia replied, her tone precise. "His criticisms, while presumptuous, came from genuine insight rather than mere contrarianism."
She leaned back, watching as Andrew began sketching new circuit patterns in his notebook. "The experiment continues," she said with a thoughtful expression. "Let's see what he forges next."
Author Note:
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