Forged Legacy

Chapter 153 - A Matter of Perspective

The four left the church, finally walking back home.

“I’m actually kind of excited for the battle tomorrow,” Tyler said. “I want to test out our new skills.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’re still two G-Grades fighting evolved monsters,” Harvey warned.

“Don’t be such a downer.”

“Harvey’s right, but you’re both doing a lot better than the last group of faithful I tried to train,” Cash said.

“Thanks again for helping us,” Steve added as they reached the driveway leading up to their assigned home. “My wife and I feel a lot better knowing you have our backs.”

“Of course! Now you guys eat some food and get some sleep. We’ve got a few more long days ahead of us,” Cash replied as he walked backward down the driveway.

“Wait. Why don’t you join us for dinner? We’d love to have you. Unless you’ve got somewhere to be,” Steve offered.

Cash hesitated, looking back and forth between the door and the church in the distance. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Come on,” Steve chuckled, pushing the front door open and waving them all inside. Max came thumping down the stairs, crashing into them like a bowling ball. Cassandra was sitting in a lounge chair, feet up on the coffee table, and reading a book.

“Daddy! Harvey!” Max shrieked, clapping his hands and stomping his feet with excitement.

“Tyler!” Tyler mimicked, souring as his brother darted right past him to wrap around the angel standing awkwardly behind them all. Surprised, Cash gently patted Max’s head. Eleanor peeked out from the hallway at the top of the stairs, smiling when she saw Max beaming up at him.

“Hallelujah, you guys are finally home. I was starting to get worried,” Cassandra fussed, tossing her book aside and leaping into her husband's arms.

“We’re home,” Steve smiled, pulling Cassandra in. “I invited Cash over for dinner. I hope that’s ok.”

Cassandra pulled away, beaming at the angel as she pulled them all to the kitchen. “That sounds great! I made plenty of food, but it will take me a few minutes to warm everything up. I wasn’t sure when you’d get back, so I’ve had it all ready for a couple of hours.”

The boys were already clean thanks to the Cleansing Gel, so they only needed to strip off their armor before gathering around the table. Harvey changed into jeans and a t-shirt, feeling 20 pounds lighter now that he wasn’t lugging around all the extra metal.

Dinner was simple, pot roast with white rice, steamed vegetables, and gravy, but it tasted divine. The meat seemed to melt in his mouth, combining with the thick, salty, savory gravy. Tension he didn’t know he’d been carrying melted away with it, replaced by warmth and comfort spreading out from his chest.

Steve and Tyler both shared his sentiment, neither saying a word as they shoveled food into their mouths. That left Cash to his mother’s mercy, a dangerous place to be, considering they had all seen Eleanor’s eyes darting back and forth between her plate and the angel sitting across from her. She’d changed a lot over the years. Come out of her shell. But right now it looked like she wanted nothing more than to crawl back in.

“So, Cash. Are you married?” Cassandra asked.

The angel froze, roast tumbling off the fork, half-raised to his mouth. “Umm, no. I’m still very young for an angel, and most of us wait until we believe we’ve reached the end of our path before settling down.”

“Really? That’s pretty different from what we were taught. The whole multiply and replenish the Earth thing,” Cassandra responded.

Cash just stared, not sure what to say.

“So, you’re single then?” Cassandra pushed as Eleanor buried her face in her hands.

“Mom, leave him alone. I’m pretty sure the bible says their babies would be Nephilim anyway, and I don’t think you’re ready for giant grandkids,” Harvey exclaimed.

“What? I’m just trying to learn about angelic society! What’s wrong with that?” Cassandra exclaimed.

“Sorry about her,” Eleanor said, her face pink with embarrassment. “She’s been trying to pawn me off for years now.

“Pawn is too harsh,” Steve said. “I prefer auction.”

The family chatted away, keeping things light as they chewed through second helpings and a large tray of triple-chocolate brownies. Harvey didn’t stop until he was worried his stomach would burst, sighing contentedly as he leaned back in his chair.

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“That was delicious, Mrs. Thorne. Thank you, guys, so much for having me,” Cash said.

“Any time! You’re always welcome in our home,” Cassandra responded.

With that, Cash got up to leave, but stopped when Harvey followed him to the door.

“Mind joining me in the garage for a sec? I’ve got a few questions for you.”

“As long as they’re not about dating your sister,” Cash grumbled under his breath.

Harvey just laughed and pulled him outside. Walking towards his workbench, he placed two crystalline tattoos down on top. They were the Mark and Imprint left behind when Varek died. He had others stored in his spatial ring, but didn’t want to reveal that until he knew whether using them was taboo.

“Varek’s legacy?” Cash asked, picking up the Imprint depicting a golden poker chip, half-covered in blood.

“Yep. I didn’t want to do anything with it until I asked what the standards about these are out in the multiverse. I assume they’re pretty common since everyone who has one leaves them behind when they die, but I don’t want to get smited or anything if I use them.” Harvey explained.

“It’s kind of up to you. Most people have no problem using them as crafting materials, and they’re usually some of the strongest ingredients you can find. Legacies are essentially super-condensed resonance. Not all are useful since some paths, like greed, are considered pretty niche, but that infernal Mark would make a great weapon to fight us, angels.”

“So why don’t the demons all have legacy-infused weapons?” Harvey asked.

“Some do, but most see using the legacy of fallen allies as heretical. It’s not uncommon for the craftsmen using them to develop Stains and Scars if they use too many.”

“That seems like a double standard. Enemy legacies are fair game, but ally ones aren’t?” Harvey asked.

“That’s exactly what it is, but knowing that doesn’t change reality. It’s really not that different from how legacy works when you’re alive. Greed can be an Imprint for a demon, but the same thing would be a Scar for me. It’s antithetical to my nature. In a way, destroying a legacy like this and using it for ink would be virtuous for me, but sacrilege to someone who shares the values held within.”

Harvey paused, thinking about that for a long time. Concepts like Greed and Holiness might be pretty cut and dry for an angel, but what about him? How could he be sure he didn’t stain himself again if he decided to use these things?

“I don’t like how open-ended that is. Wouldn’t that mean some serial killer demon would have no problem turning all his friends into legacy weapons?” Harvey asked.

“Someone like that would probably be fine,” Cash agreed. “At the end of the day, it comes down to you. Be true to yourself, and it will all work out in the end. If you feel comfortable using them, go for it. If you don’t, don’t.”

He’d need to think about it, but at least he knew the general consensus of the multiverse.

“Alright, thanks.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, actually. I’m planning on finishing my silver armor tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted me to make a set for you,” Harvey offered.

Cash looked taken aback, “Really? I can’t exactly afford the materials right now.”

“You can’t? We earned a lot of merit today,” Harvey replied. “Either way, I wasn’t expecting you to pay anything. I’ll do it for free.”

“Most of my merit is tithed by the church. We pool it all together to fund the war effort. Like I said, bullets are expensive.”

Harvey was starting to get an idea of the cost of materials here in the trial, and doubted ammunition was soaking up all that merit. Yes, they were expensive, and crafting any strong enough to take down the stronger monsters could easily bankrupt a single soldier, but those weren’t the rounds Heaven was going for.

“Is that why the shepherds like you don’t get any armor?” Harvey asked.

Cash nodded. “We need to prioritize those fighting on the front lines.”

“Screw that, I’ll make you some as long as you promise nobody else is going to steal it off your back afterward.”

“I’d like to see them try,” Cash smiled.

The measuring process was a little strange. Harvey just needed to look at the angel from different angles while Artificer’s Eyes measured everything out for him. Working around the wings would be a little awkward, but Cash explained a few subtle changes in design that most angels used. Instead of a single, solid backplate, theirs were split into two pieces. The bottom piece started just below the shoulder blades, where the wings connected to the body, and the top piece lay over it with cutouts for the wings. He had to leave more open space than he’d like for Cash to be able to move freely, but it was a lot better than the simple robe he wore now.

The inscriptions would be fairly simple, the same holy reinforcement arrays he’d already been planning for his own set. He still needed to test whether he could combine the holy water with his thanefire drake bones to create the ink, but Cash seemed confident the combination would work once he stripped the thanum out of the bones.

“Thank you, Harvey. Really. I try my best not to be covetous, but being forced to fight without any armor has always been hard for me.”

“It’s ridiculous for them to expect anyone to do what you do unprotected,” Harvey scoffed. “I don’t think I can have it ready by tomorrow, but I’ll get it done as fast as I can.”

“No rush,” Cash smiled. “I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

The motor whined as it rolled the garage door open, and they both waved goodbye. A pit had been forming in his stomach ever since Silas, the angel standing guard at the gates when Harvey first arrived in heaven, seemed ok with humans dying as long as no angel blood was spilled, and it just kept getting bigger. First, he had to threaten Diana to heal Steve and Tyler’s souls, and now they were taking Cash’s merit and forcing him to fight in a robe?

Harvey picked up the infernal Mark still resting on the table, turning it over as his mind began to race. He absently rubbed it, feeling the faint thrum of hellish power radiating from the small tattoo.

I don’t trust them.

[Couldn’t hurt to have a contingency plan,] Julius replied.

How do you feel? About using legacies, I mean.

[I think we need every advantage we can find, and I’m living proof that items created with them are powerful.]

But the Cognition Matrix is different. Julian’s legacy wasn’t destroyed, and the System kind of forced my hand.

[Look at it this way. If you were willing to kill them in the first place, then you might as well finish the job. This isn’t all or nothing. Using Varek’s legacy doesn’t mean you have to use Amy’s.]

Harvey sighed, putting them both away in his spatial ring before filling the forge with charcoal.

You’re right. Let me sit on it for a bit, though. Besides, we’ve already got a lot of smithing to do.