baby lumendra gets a sword

“Watch it, mouse.” Ricochet warned, as the tiny luma nosed his way through the back of his shop. 

Pixie was back on his daily routine of scavenging for scraps. And he’d made quite a mess at that. Heaps and heaps of scrap metal, rusted iron nails and unused claw caps sat in a corner whilst the green luma dug and dug through the depths of his workshop, sending bits of raw materials flying. Eventually, the racket was enough to usher Ricochet out of the storefront and check on Pixie’s antics.

“What are you looking for this time, young’un?” Ricochet sighed, his gaze locking on the tiny green blob, who was squirming in an attempt to lift up a gigantic steel plank. 

“A sword.” Pixie muttered, lifting up the beam with his mouth and his four paws before promptly collapsing on the wooden workshop floor. He stood up indignantly, and tried to get the steel beam to budge again. “A really sharp one. Just like yours.” 

Ricochet brandished the sword on his tail. It was rusty and long neglected, with bits of moss and fungi already starting to spread across it. He glanced back at Pixie, who had given up and moved on to digging out more scrap metal. 

“What in Faia could you possibly want a sword for?” Ricochet thought out loud. 

“To stab somebody with, of course.” Pixie replied without a single hint of hesitation. 

“Unless it’s the wither, you won’t be getting past anyone with that…” Ricochet muttered, debating whether to go forth with the plan or not. He glanced at the young luma again, who certainly wouldn’t leave his stores of scrap metal alone until he’d gotten what he’d wanted. 

“...Alright, fine. I’ll make you a sword.” He grunted, prodding Pixie with one claw. “Get me some of those scraps.” Pixie’s face immediately lit up. “ You know where I’ll be.”

He headed to a clear area in his backyard, past where his workshop would normally be.  Pixie nosed his way through the heaps of haphazardly stacked crafting materials, following him along. 

“Sit down.” Ricochet motioned, letting Pixie watch as he pulled one of the pieces of scrap metal and thrusted it into the open flames. Pixie watched, his mouth wide open as the metal seemed to simmer and melt before his eyes. Ricochet swiftly yanked a hammer from one of the many pigeon-hole cupboards and began to knock the metal into shape, sometimes pulling it out of the flames to let it cool and hammering it even more, and quickly thrusting it back into the flames. 

Eventually, after much of what seemed like magical craftsmanship, a finished iron sword sat at the very edge of the crafting table. Ricochet inspected it and wrapped a few pieces of cloth around the handle. 

“There, that’ll do.” Ricochet grunted, thrusting the heavy sword into the tiny luma’s arms. He cast a fond look at Pixie as he immediately tried to brandish it, but instead ended up flailing around on the ground due to just how heavy it is. “Watch the other stuff in the shop.” He called, as Pixie stumbled out of the workshop. 

“Who knows what that rascal’s gonna do next?” He muttered to himself, continuing with his duties.