Chapter 37: More pain
Daubutim quietly held onto the shivering and screaming boys' thin arms. His respect for Irwin grew with each passing moment.
He has only tried to pull back a few times, he thought.
Another loud strike hit the curious Anvil, and he forced Irwin's hand to remain on the Anvil while he howled in agony. It wasn't the first time Daubutim had heard something like that, and he shivered as he recalled the practice his father had forced upon him and his brothers. The nightmares from those days haunted him to this day. Still, there was a benefit. Without those sessions, he'd never have been able to hold his hand on that surface.
No, he thought as he shivered at the memory. That sensation of his hand being crushed again and again had been horrible.
The next bang didn't occur, and he waited for a moment. Was it done? There had been eighty-seven strikes this time—twelve more than were needed for the morningstar.
"Right, and another one done!"
Daubutim was both surprised and annoyed by the cheery tone. He didn't say anything and slowly led Irwin away. The scrawny boy had changed again, his arms having gained the barest hint of muscle. His gaze moved to Irwin's hand. The middle card was still glowing, the lines clear as a painting. A pair of red eyes sat in the center, with a wide cone of fire bursting out towards the edge of the card.
"Ugh," Irwin muttered, and Daubutim lowered him to the ground.
"Rest. I'll guard you," he said.
Irwin muttered something he didn't catch, and suddenly he began shivering. His teeth rattled, and his entire body seemed to vibrate.
"What is going on?" Daubutim snapped as he looked up.
"Ah, right! Forgot about that part," Ambraz said. "You might want to wake him up! He needs to use his flame and heat himself up, or he might die.."