The next day was an important one for Julian.
He was finally going to attempt making a ringwraith.
It wasn't surprising that Helena eagerly volunteered as a guinea pig without hesitation. With the detailed knowledge of the crafting style, Julian understood that the ring itself didn't need to be outrageously powerful to create and maintain a ringwraith. In fact, the rings given to men had barely carried powerful enchantments at all.
First and foremost was the effect that made their wearers "invisible," because their bodies resided in the astral realm. Only their spirits walked the world in a physical manner, and because time held no meaning in the astral realm, they didn't age.
Julian's rings could skip the part where the physical body was displaced and focus only on the physical spirit aspect.
...
The second ability those rings held was the way they made ordinary mortals into powerful sorcerers by tying their power to Sauron's.
Again, Julian could skip that entirely, because one of the prerequisites for becoming a ghost was being magical.
That was why there weren't far more ghosts, even though muggles often died with unfinished business and a strong refusal to pass on. Those things mattered, but magic mattered too.
Instead, Julian planned to bind the rings to himself in a way that made them fall off instantly if the ghost wearing one ever turned against him.
With the requirements lowered so much by those factors, Julian believed he might be able to create a ringwraith with his crafting far below the level of Celebrimbor or Sauron.
...
The biggest hurdle was energy.
Unlike either of them, Julian's pool was tiny.
Celebrimbor had been an elf over a thousand years old.
Sauron had been an immortal fallen angel.
A soul equivalent to an eleven-year-old in age didn't hold much power compared to either.
Julian's soul would have been worth nearly thirty years, if his memories and knowledge from his previous life hadn't been stripped away. In this world, knowledge was power in the most literal sense. A wizard's soul naturally grew stronger with age and learning, and those lost years would have made his soul far stronger.
...
Quality, though, was a different matter.
Julian's soul was fusing with the spirit of the celestial bird, and it was also becoming elven in nature. That qualitative shift made it superior to a normal wizard's soul by multiple tiers.
That was what allowed Julian to learn so quickly. Without it, he'd only be a bit above average in raw learning talent.
...
"What do you think would be a good material for something like this?" Julian asked Helena, who hovered nearby in the workshop, practically vibrating with anticipation. "Mithril, or something else?"
Helena's expression turned serious as she thought.
In the meantime, Julian turned on the furnace and switched it over to his new cold flames. A chill rolled through the workshop as the paradoxical fire took hold. The strange nature of cold fire felt like the best choice available for turning a ghost into a ringwraith.
Even Celebrimbor had agreed, mostly because he didn't truly know. His world had few types of magical flame, and he had only ever worked with sun flame among them.
Sun flame existed in this world too, but it was notoriously difficult to obtain. It only appeared during lunar eclipses, and it tended to die within minutes after forming on earth. Acquiring it required luck, proximity, and preparation.
...
Helena finally chose, looking at Julian with sudden certainty. "You should use blood silver."
"HISSSS," Julian sucked in a sharp breath, a mix of surprise and disgust.
Blood silver was a vile metal. It was created by extracting the iron from the blood of wizards or other magical beings while they were still alive, mixing it with mithril, then sealing it in a jar of blood for no less than six days.
The metal was known for taking dark enchantments exceptionally well, and it was even theorized to have ties to soul magic. Helena was clearly referring to that.
Julian refused outright.
"NO," he said firmly.
Helena looked disappointed, but she accepted it and went back to thinking.
...
While she considered alternatives, Julian took stock of his metals.
Four bars of goblin silver.
Twelve bars of dragon steel.
Seven bars of mithril.
Two bars of orichalcum.
Two bars of adamantium.
Half a bar of star metal.
And plenty of mundane metals.
He hadn't purchased more since raiding what the Room had provided, because he hadn't needed to. Most rings since then were made from ordinary metal, with only occasional use of the rarer materials.
"Mithril should suffice," Helena said at last, frowning faintly. "Though it has no known ties to souls."
Julian ignored the comment. He already knew he was working with less-than-ideal conditions.
...
He grabbed a mithril bar and placed it into the cold fire, gritting his teeth as the chill bit at him.
Strangely, the metal changed color as if it were heating, and it even melted in the cold flames.
Julian drew the liquid metal out with his wand, separated off what he needed, and poured the rest into a mold to reform into an ingot.
The portion he kept, he shaped into a small sphere and allowed it to cool, or in this case, heat, until it became solid and workable again.
Once it was ready, he set the sphere on the anvil and hammered it flat on both sides like a coin, though far thicker.
...
Then he began working a hole through the center to turn it into a ring.
He had to return the metal to the furnace more than once to keep it workable, but eventually he drove the hole clean through.
From there he shaped it into a simple band, carefully managing the stress so he wouldn't crack the mithril.
After an hour of steady work, the ring was complete.
Then came the real trial.
...
Julian began to glow, filling the workshop with bright gold-and-white radiance that quickly tightened, focusing into his hand and hammer.
"GUL!" he spoke, and struck the ring with full intent and knowledge.
The ring hummed, and a fuzzy word in elvish flashed beside it.
"SORNA!" on the next strike.
Now two words hung beside the ring, and the humming grew more intense.
"NEM!" he struck again.
Three words.
Julian repeated the sequence over and over, hammering, chanting, reinforcing the binding with every blow.
After three more hours, he felt the rebound of energy that meant the enchantment had fully anchored itself.
With the final strike, he spoke the last word.
"NAZGUL!"
The humming ceased.
The ring sat on the anvil, radiating a cold blue shine as it waited to be used.
~-------------------------
Patreon Advance Chapters: patreon .com / hpdreamer