Kiem set to work on the strange ingot, but the material proved nearly impossible to manipulate. Heat would not soften it, he could not cut it, and finally, his hammer shattered on its surface. Frustrated and exhausted he stepped into the cool breeze outside his shop, pacing and packing his pipe, uncertain how to continue. He had avoided using his family's tools his entire life for fear of damaging them, and now when that possibility seemed most likely, he considered it. Opening the small family chest he stared at the tools, he had always wondered how they held up in the past, none of his recent ancestors had used them, as they appeared to be made of heavily oxidized copper and gold. Until now he suspected they were ornamental. Pulling the hammer from its velvet surface, the stone in his ring began to subtly vibrate and the hammer itself seemed to take on the same otherworldly luster as the stone. He went back to work. Pulling the ingot from the forge he lightly struck it with the hammer, still afraid to damage the tool, and to his surprise, the material succumbed to the light touch of the hammer. Gradually, his confidence in the toolâs resilience grew and his pace grew. He soon realized that each of his family's tools worked in conjunction with the ring and that it responded to his thoughts. He discovered he no longer needed the furnace. The single-minded thought âsoftenâ was enough for the item to give way under his hammer. It took him a week to learn the dynamics of this toolset, and for each roadblock, the answer seemed to be in how his mind interacted with the items. Two weeks later and the dagger was finished, he felt as though he had not designed the object, but had only facilitated its creation. Its blade was translucent and extended into three prongs near the end, what this could be used for he knew not, but he knew it was perfect.
