Several years have passed. The warrior Vargas left his kingdom to pursue greater strength, while the knight turned weapon, Lava, continued down a path of solitude and power. Neither had seen each other in years and, until the fickle finger of fate drew them together again in the future, neither was aware of the other's growth. To Vargas, surpassing Lava had become a wall he had to overcome, one that was worth all of his effort and determination, but not because he felt inferior or jealous. In his mind, Lava was the ideal form of a Knight of the Agni Kingdom. She was fierce, calm, strong and lacked hesitation in the areas where he was brash, hot headed and without focus. To say that he wanted to be like Lava wouldn't be far from the truth, but he understood that even his ideal and goal had flaws.

It wasn't until after Vargas left the Agni Kingdom that he learned of Lava's near emotionless personality and path of isolation that pushed her away from those under her leadership. It wasn't until after he had left that he learned of Lava's fascination with him and her desire to cross blades with him once more or that he had been the one to spark Lava's desire to improve more than ever. Really, he found that to be a bit bothersome. It wasn't Lava's inevitable improvement or the fact that he had been far too hasty when he chose to leave for training that bothered him, but the fact that he learned more about the one he strived to surpass only after he left.

The young warrior sighed just thinking about it. He'd really screwed up back then, but living in the past was no way to pave a way into the future. He'd trained, trained for hours, sometimes days, on end with no rest until he couldn't lift his father's sword anymore. Gradually, this took longer and longer to occur, up to the point where the heirloom had become worn, chipped and battered to near ruin, but each time Vargas would repair Anrhi's sword back to its original state. It was after one such day that fate finally dealt Vargas a winning hand so to speak, though it was a blessing in disguise initially.

"Ah," paused the warrior as the sword that had been at his side since his father's passing snapped in two. He looked at the portion he held then to the portion embedded in a nearby rock for several moments before dread finally set in. "Of all of the... This can't, this CANNOT be happening! Not now of all times!" He began to pace the area briskly. "Nononono nononono no and no! Now what am I going to do? I can't use this sword anymore, much less train with it anymore. That's beside the point! GRAAH!"

To anyone passing by, this would look like a nervous breakdown with no real cause, but at that moment not just anyone was passing through the area.

"Oi, Fire Knight," called the passerby. "If you can get me the materials I can make you a better sword." This person was Galant, a soon to be fabled blacksmith known for his fierce temperament when it came to weapons. In truth, he had seen the incident that cost Vargas his heirloom blade(An overzealous swing that made the blade bite into a large stone) and he had planned to chew the swordsman out for the incident, but seeing the man crumble as the worn weapon snapped had put him off. He contemplated whether or not to simply leave the man alone or berate him when his departed grandfather's words echoed in his ears.

"A blacksmith does not simply better weapons and armor, he also enhances the will and motivation of those who wield them."

Galant's wrath faded and he sighed before addressing the warrior, startling Vargas in the process. "I won't repeat myself." Galant narrowed his eyes, thinking Vargas daft, and prepared to continue his own journey when the warrior called out to him.

"W-wait! Give me a moment!" The blacksmith turned around quietly, glancing over the man behind him as he attempted to retrieve the half of his sword embedded in the stone. You've got to be kidding me. Let's hope he can pull his own weight... Galant had the feeling that this would be the start of a long partnership and not in the good way.