Blacksmiths work with iron. Goldsmiths craft wonders with gold. Silversmiths with silver, and redsmiths work copper into numerous things.
These have been normal and noble trades throughout the centuries. Dating back to the time of kings and regal Knights, men and women have put their minds and hands to these most precious of minerals and created great things. Suits of armour, weapons for thousands of armies, things of beauty for royalty, the profession of a smithy was and is still revered.
But my work, my smithing, has not gone celebrated. It has gone unappreciated for centuries. And as master smith has taught and raised up new smiths to take hammer and anvil to our precious material, we have borne the burden of being scorned.
I am the last great master of my kind. I am the lone Grand Smithy of the Purple, and this story will be shared.
The Purple has been a mineral of great mystery and controversy for eons.
You will not see it on the crowns of kings or queens, nor on the rings of spiritual leaders, for they are disturbed why the forces that live within it. It will not appear on any version of the Periodic Table of Elements, for the properties of the Purple cannot be completely defined. Science, both in the dark and enlightened age, refuse to acknowledge its existence.
But because you can’t find it in a scientific journal, or on the jewelry of royalty doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. It has been at the centre of some of the great moments in history, though you won’t know it. They may say history is written by the winners, but it is actually written by the liars with the most influence, winners or losers.
And let me be clear, the Purple is not some alien material that fell from the heavens. It was not that the centre of some meteor or piece of space derby that received ancient worship. No. This mystic substance is something more. To give it earthen qualities, even alien qualities, would be to diminish the awesome power that dwells within the Purple.
More on that later.
The Purple was discovered late in humanities history. It was the end of the first century. Rome was still in her glory, ruling most of the known world. China was growing and expanding, not yet reading out as far as it would in later years. Between these two superpowers of ancient days, there were the barbarian hordes. There were many tribes, many dialects and cultures within the barbarian ranks, but there was one that reigned supreme. They were called the Huant tribe. Their leader was Dunduzk, father of Munduzk, the father of Attila the Hun.
One fall, after the time of war with Rome, Dunduzk took several leaders of the tribe for a military retreat. He may not have been a wise man, continually driving his people towards death in war, but he was smart enough to know that Rome wouldn’t be defeated by brute strength. Strategy would be required.
As they went deep into forest for their meeting, Dunduzk became confused by the amount of stone that showed through the grass. Never before had he seen the ground so grassless. This stone was ruining a great resource for his people, so he order young men to dig up the stone so that the forest, and their way of life, may return to normal.
But normal would never the word used to describe their lives again.
Upon unearthing this stone, Dunduzk became fascinated by its rich hue. Not blue, but not red. This was the first sighting of the Purple.
But Dunduzk did nothing with it. He did all he could to restore his forest to its former glory, and went about his warring way, raising one of the most notorious warriors to all time, Attila the Hun.
But it was Attila’s brother, Bleda, that took greater interest in the Purple and began the work that would lead to the smithing of this mysterious mineral. One can only imagine that it was a long and hard work to discover how the Purple worked. For Purple cannot be put to flame to refine it, like gold or silver. The properties of the Purple require it to be frozen to be purified.
When it is in a time of hibernation, the Purple seems to excrete whatever foreign substances may have attempted to latch onto it, or attempted to bury itself in the Purple. Only after all foreign material has left the Purple does it become workable.
For Bleda, this must have been a lengthy process, as he never had the technology we now have to speed up cooling and thawing. But though it was a tough labour, it seems a labour of love, a labour worth devoting himself to.
Bleda was the first master of the Purple. It was he who created the first of the Nine Great Pieces. The Nine Pieces were his original purple smith works of art. Pieces of extreme beauty, but also of great power. Like silver is used in weapons and art, so Bleda purposed the Purple. But what he did not know was the power in the Nine Pieces. He saw the evidence of it though he could not have imagined it was from his work or the stones that his father unearthed.
The fire that brought Rome to its knees was not the doing of Nero. It was the Great Flaming Sword, the first of the Nine Great Pieces that Bleda had fashioned, started it.
The earthquake that swallowed up the great library in Alexandra was not a natural occurrence. A fool got his hands of The Titan Arrow and Bow, shot The Titan Arrow into the sea, ripping the ocean floor open.
History recorded more, though they covered up the true causes. Because they fear the Purple, and the power that is locked inside of it, the power of The Great Gods of Time.
Photo credit: Hans Splinter, Flickr