Marvel : the Author

Hey, guys ! Sorry about the late update… again. I forgot and then has to update the Webnovel app.

You know… it's been almost a week that I don't have the internet at home. I wanted to switch to fiber optic internet… ever since then nothing. I'm suffering from severe internet withdrawal ! Besides, nowadays without the Internet, you're kind of screwed. Can't even play Starfield on the Xbox 'cause for some reason, I need an internet connection…

Thankfully I have my phone for a quick fix… but it's not the best, y'a know ?

Anyways… enjoy !

==============

Okay, so… Full disclosure ! It seems my mom might have been onto something. You know… When she said I can forge for shit. I'm not sure if she used those exact words but… Yeah. After I've spent a few weeks with Gagna on her home planet - station, whatever - and started to learn a bit of her craft. That's the conclusion I've come to. Then again, I don't think that even the smiths of old, the ones able to forge real Damascus steel or even the legendary swordsmiths would have been considered good, here. That's just how big the difference is !

The dwarves have got hundreds, thousands… I don't know how many alloys they can make. They use metals we have no idea exist. Their facilities are so amazing that… Actually, I'm not sure about that last part. Gagna tried to explain about all the gizmos and stuff but I couldn't understand any of it. Even their methods are so complicated and obscure it might as well be magic. The thing is though… Although she's a decent smith, Gagna is hopeless when it comes to actually using magic. She doesn't have the talent for it, I guess. Or the patience.

Anyways… After it was made clear, after several rounds of Gagna yelling at me something I didn't understand - probably cursing me or my inability to smith adequately in dwarvish - she decided it'll be better to put our respective talents where they were best suited. Meaning now, she's handling all the smithing part, and I busy myself with the enchantments.

I don't know if it's to make sure our partnership works or something but, we've started working on things other than my ring. Armors, swords, pickaxes, hammers… that kind of things. The thing is, though, the things we made… I don't know where they've gone. We finish something and then, the next day it's gone from the workshop. Is she selling them or what ?

During dinner that night, I just decide to ask her, point blank :

« Gagna… Say, what do you do with what we've been making ? »

She answers gruffly :

« What do you think I've been doing with it ? Selling them, of course ! »

Now, I'm surprised a little. I didn't think the things we made were of any interest to the dwarves… Then again, maybe she's not selling them to the dwarves. It's my understanding that Nidavellir produces a lot of stuff for the Nine Realms - minus Midgard - and in exchange, they get food, textiles and other necessary stuff they don't necessarily make here.

Gagna's not done talking though and she continues with a little shame :

« I've never been able to sell my products except to miners and worlds where magical equipment is to expensive to buy. My husband was actually the one making most of the money for us to live. But now, with your help… I was able to for the first time. » She shakes her head as she says : « It's too bad I can't sell them under my own name… Would have been great for my shop ! »

« Why ? »

Instead of answering my questions, she asks another one :

« What happens when you leave ? »

Now that she tells me, it's obvious what happens : she'll still be unable to enchant her crafts. A pity 'cause I've come to respect how much work and dedication she puts in her 'babies'. She doesn't call them that ; it's just I see how much care she has for her job, how she treats each of her creations. If only I could help her in some way…

After a moment of silence where the two of us are just eating in silence, I tell her :

« Why don't we make something for yourself ? Your family ? Your husband's a miner right ? And your daughter a soldier ? »

I haven't realized before, but after I say this, it dawns on me how much I value our current relationship. We're not exactly friends, nor are we master and apprentice. It's more like… an acquaintance or a friend of the family that has done so much for you that you want to repay it somehow, you know ?

I also feel like smacking myself. My enchantments are good, no doubt about it. Maybe not, top-of-the-line dwarven enchantments good, but still pretty good. The thing is, though, like everything I make, they're defined by me, on a separate piece of paper or surface with the code detailing the effects of the enchantment. I can use runic scripts, since it basically fulfills the same purpose and is already defined by magic… Or something. But I don't because, well, it's kind of a secret of their race so I'm not supposed to know of it.

And since I'm using my personal enchantment, with their definitions and all, that means that, should the time come where the information where those definitions were was destroyed, the enchantments would lose their effects as well. Imagining a beautiful woman getting killed on the battlefield because the armor or weapon we made for her fails… It doesn't leave a good feeling.

Gagna knows, how my power works since my mom explained it to her. She didn't ask me, 'cause I would have said : 'Hell no ! We're not telling her !' My parents, my friends, Gagna and Henry McCoy, AKA Beast. That's just too many people that know about my secret. What if one of them get mind-controlled or mind-read ?

Be that as it may, she knows and so, she probably thought of the same thing I did just now. She decides :

« I'll keep a copy of the blueprints for your enchantments in the storeroom. With this and your own copy, it creates redundancy that your power needs. » She pauses before asking : « After you leave, can I have one of our enchanters take a look at them ? I'm hopeless in magic, but maybe they'll be able to help me reproduce it… »

It's clear she doesn't have much hope of that. Mutations are generally pretty unique and difficult, if not impossible to replicate. Let's just look at Wolverine's case : Weapon-X spent the better part of the latter half of a century replicating his power and cloning him. They were successful in the end. But what about his own power ? Not to brag, but it is much more powerful and complex than simple immortality and high regeneration powers ! Okay, maybe I'm bragging. Just a bit !

Perhaps, my power and DNA isn't so difficult to replicate. And maybe - most likely - I'll end up the puppet of a mind-controlling bastard like Kilgrave. As I think this, I arrive at a resolution :

« Let's work on that not happening ! »

A tattoo meant to protect from mental manipulation powers… It should be possible for me to create one. Tattooing myself on the other hand… It might be like sewing your own wounds. Let's worry about that when it comes down to it. For now, I'm still here on Nidavellir. And I don't even know how long I'll stay…

« Alright ! I'll copy the 'blueprints' in the evenings. »

Blueprints are what Gagna's calling them. I call them program or codes. Same difference, some might say. They're not exactly blueprints, of course, but considering they tell how the enchantments supposed to work, it's similar… I guess ?

Gagna returns my nod and smiles slightly :

« Then… I will be in your care ! Let us make my husband and daughter's equipment ! »

As she says this, I get the bad feeling that I'm not very close to get back to my own world… Will I be able to remember my parents faces ? My friends ? Just being slightly dramatic, I know… But, still…

« I miss Earth ! » I mutter to myself.Chapter 22 : I suck ?

Okay, so… Full disclosure ! It seems my mom might have been onto something. You know… When she said I can forge for shit. I'm not sure if she used those exact words but… Yeah. After I've spent a few weeks with Gagna on her home planet - station, whatever - and started to learn a bit of her craft. That's the conclusion I've come to. Then again, I don't think that even the smiths of old, the ones able to forge real Damascus steel or even the legendary swordsmiths would have been considered good, here. That's just how big the difference is !

The dwarves have got hundreds, thousands… I don't know how many alloys they can make. They use metals we have no idea exist. Their facilities are so amazing that… Actually, I'm not sure about that last part. Gagna tried to explain about all the gizmos and stuff but I couldn't understand any of it. Even their methods are so complicated and obscure it might as well be magic. The thing is though… Although she's a decent smith, Gagna is hopeless when it comes to actually using magic. She doesn't have the talent for it, I guess. Or the patience.

Anyways… After it was made clear, after several rounds of Gagna yelling at me something I didn't understand - probably cursing me or my inability to smith adequately in dwarvish - she decided it'll be better to put our respective talents where they were best suited. Meaning now, she's handling all the smithing part, and I busy myself with the enchantments.

I don't know if it's to make sure our partnership works or something but, we've started working on things other than my ring. Armors, swords, pickaxes, hammers… that kind of things. The thing is, though, the things we made… I don't know where they've gone. We finish something and then, the next day it's gone from the workshop. Is she selling them or what ?

During dinner that night, I just decide to ask her, point blank :

« Gagna… Say, what do you do with what we've been making ? »

She answers gruffly :

« What do you think I've been doing with it ? Selling them, of course ! »

Now, I'm surprised a little. I didn't think the things we made were of any interest to the dwarves… Then again, maybe she's not selling them to the dwarves. It's my understanding that Nidavellir produces a lot of stuff for the Nine Realms - minus Midgard - and in exchange, they get food, textiles and other necessary stuff they don't necessarily make here.

Gagna's not done talking though and she continues with a little shame :

« I've never been able to sell my products except to miners and worlds where magical equipment is to expensive to buy. My husband was actually the one making most of the money for us to live. But now, with your help… I was able to for the first time. » She shakes her head as she says : « It's too bad I can't sell them under my own name… Would have been great for my shop ! »

« Why ? »

Instead of answering my questions, she asks another one :

« What happens when you leave ? »

Now that she tells me, it's obvious what happens : she'll still be unable to enchant her crafts. A pity 'cause I've come to respect how much work and dedication she puts in her 'babies'. She doesn't call them that ; it's just I see how much care she has for her job, how she treats each of her creations. If only I could help her in some way…

After a moment of silence where the two of us are just eating in silence, I tell her :

« Why don't we make something for yourself ? Your family ? Your husband's a miner right ? And your daughter a soldier ? »

I haven't realized before, but after I say this, it dawns on me how much I value our current relationship. We're not exactly friends, nor are we master and apprentice. It's more like… an acquaintance or a friend of the family that has done so much for you that you want to repay it somehow, you know ?

I also feel like smacking myself. My enchantments are good, no doubt about it. Maybe not, top-of-the-line dwarven enchantments good, but still pretty good. The thing is, though, like everything I make, they're defined by me, on a separate piece of paper or surface with the code detailing the effects of the enchantment. I can use runic scripts, since it basically fulfills the same purpose and is already defined by magic… Or something. But I don't because, well, it's kind of a secret of their race so I'm not supposed to know of it.

And since I'm using my personal enchantment, with their definitions and all, that means that, should the time come where the information where those definitions were was destroyed, the enchantments would lose their effects as well. Imagining a beautiful woman getting killed on the battlefield because the armor or weapon we made for her fails… It doesn't leave a good feeling.

Gagna knows, how my power works since my mom explained it to her. She didn't ask me, 'cause I would have said : 'Hell no ! We're not telling her !' My parents, my friends, Gagna and Henry McCoy, AKA Beast. That's just too many people that know about my secret. What if one of them get mind-controlled or mind-read ?

Be that as it may, she knows and so, she probably thought of the same thing I did just now. She decides :

« I'll keep a copy of the blueprints for your enchantments in the storeroom. With this and your own copy, it creates redundancy that your power needs. » She pauses before asking : « After you leave, can I have one of our enchanters take a look at them ? I'm hopeless in magic, but maybe they'll be able to help me reproduce it… »

It's clear she doesn't have much hope of that. Mutations are generally pretty unique and difficult, if not impossible to replicate. Let's just look at Wolverine's case : Weapon-X spent the better part of the latter half of a century replicating his power and cloning him. They were successful in the end. But what about his own power ? Not to brag, but it is much more powerful and complex than simple immortality and high regeneration powers ! Okay, maybe I'm bragging. Just a bit !

Perhaps, my power and DNA isn't so difficult to replicate. And maybe - most likely - I'll end up the puppet of a mind-controlling bastard like Kilgrave. As I think this, I arrive at a resolution :

« Let's work on that not happening ! »

A tattoo meant to protect from mental manipulation powers… It should be possible for me to create one. Tattooing myself on the other hand… It might be like sewing your own wounds. Let's worry about that when it comes down to it. For now, I'm still here on Nidavellir. And I don't even know how long I'll stay…

« Alright ! I'll copy the 'blueprints' in the evenings. »

Blueprints are what Gagna's calling them. I call them program or codes. Same difference, some might say. They're not exactly blueprints, of course, but considering they tell how the enchantments supposed to work, it's similar… I guess ?

Gagna returns my nod and smiles slightly :

« Then… I will be in your care ! Let us make my husband and daughter's equipment ! »

As she says this, I get the bad feeling that I'm not very close to get back to my own world… Will I be able to remember my parents faces ? My friends ? Just being slightly dramatic, I know… But, still…

« I miss Earth ! » I mutter to myself.