Chaos Critter Tails: Hector and the Forging of the Sword of Incredible Power and Beauty, Chapter 02
Our cozy fantasy is now more fantasy than cozy, as Hector and Ralph quest for the first ingredient needed for the competition and end up way over their own heads. Plus, furry sibling pictures!
Furry Siblings
One of the benefits of having multiple siblings means there’s always one around to help you demand things from your owners. Regular readers will already be aware: our critters are not aware of any differences between dogs and cats.






And now our feature presentation…
Hector and the Forging of the Sword of Incredible Power and Beauty, Chapter 02
His mind clean from his second swim, Hector settled down to design the sword. He flopped on his side and lay down, letting out a huge Newfie sigh that summoned his fire elemental, Gem. The little creature flickered and flared. With a thought, Hector sent it scrambling to a fetch parchment and his favorite pen.
Gem was little more than a small light at the moment, a swirl of heat and brightness, that could float in the ether until Hector needed him. The little creature was mute, and some thought half-dumb, merely a reflection of the bound’s will, while others insisted all elementals were intelligent, empathetic creatures that we just didn’t know how to speak with yet.
Hector wasn’t sure what he believed. He just knew that talking to Gem made his thoughts order themselves. That his sword design satin an unreachable recess of his mind, but in speaking all his worries and other nonsense out to Gem, the idea would crystalize, as if he had to chip the stone away to reveal the gem beneath, hence why he called his fire elemental Gem. Because it was a muse and a key to his thoughts. And... Hector thought cynically, he just liked talking to his fire elemental.
“I was the first puppy in my entire line to leave our family den on the island. Nobody else in my family makes things. They work at honorable tasks. They’re water rescue dogs manning the lighthouse that dominated the island I grew up on.”
He stopped just in case the fire elemental wanted to reply or an idea would surface. Gem merely floated there, holding the pen posed above the paper. Ink glinted on the nib of the pen, which was held by a pale swirl of burning light. Hector continued.
“But nobody created anything. Even the wagons we hauled and our traces were designed, created by others. Mom knew I was a little weird because I kept wanting to draw stuff. Although it’s really tough to draw when you’re a puppy and don’t have any hands.”
He looked at his paws. His huge, fluffy paws with webbed toes and long claws that could not wrap themselves around a pen or brush, no matter how hard he tried. And he sighed.
“Paws are wonderful for swimming, but very poor for holding a pen or a pencil. But then my fire element, you Gem, established a link and brought me my first brush and hammer, and I moved here to become a metalsmith. Lillian was already working in town. She was startled when I won a contract from her. She hadn’t known she had competition and worked doubly hard to get the next one away from me.”
He sat, looking around the great foundry that was his home den. At the modified tools that let him handle items with his mouth if needed. And the other, delicate ones that Gem welded for him when inspiration took him.
“Sometimes one of us, Lillian or I, does a little better than the other. Other times, the other one pulls ahead. But it’s great because each of us is better because we’re measuring ourselves against our rival. It is a fire that drives us on.”
Gem still merely floated there, perhaps contemplating nothing, perhaps listening intently. The little elemental swirled a little around the pen poised above paper. Hector let out a little sigh. He was close. He could feel the ideas starting to gel. The flicker of thought, an image of a sword, was starting to peak within his mind.
Before he could find the complete image, Hector smelled traces of a lake-cleansed cat. His Maine Coon friend, Ralph, had come to visit.
Barely a breath later, Ralph’s mew signaled his presence. “You there?”
Hector laughed and stood up from where he’d flopped. He felt the image of the sword recede into the mists of his mind. He shook himself, looking at the dim, sparkling light of Gem and greeted Ralph at the door.
“I sure am. Just getting ready to start drawing. What have you been up to?”
Ralph gave him a slow blink. That was terse, even for his friend Ralph. He must be feeling very cat at the moment.
The orange maned tabby sauntered in, rubbing against Hector in greeting. “Tania?”
Hector gave a Newfie chuckle. “No. She’s not here at the moment. I’ll probably see her tonight or tomorrow. I’m supposed to get together with Basant to give her an update, and, you know, Tania is always with her.”
Ralph nodded towards the elemental holding the drawing materials. “Design?”
Hector settled himself onto a nice, cool marble bed set into the floor. Its cold seeped into him, making his mind feel fresh while he worked. “I was just telling Gem...”
The sentence hung in the air as the mist of creativity cleared from Hector’s mind. He could see the design. The spiraled handle, the slightly curved sword that would slice through the wind itself, the wave in the fire-cured steel that glinted in the hottest forge, before being plunged into cold salt water. It was beautiful, magnificent.
And his.
Hector didn’t realize he hadn’t finished the sentence. Instead, Gem flew into motion, drawing the image that danced in Hector’s mind. Not one subtle sweep was forgotten, from etchings to edges, from pommel to point, from ore to craft. Everything was there. Design and recipe.
He forgot Ralph was there.
Hector even forgot he was really directing his fire elemental as his words became the sweep of the brush on parchment, the dream of flames and wind, of earth quenched in water, molded to his will.
Gem glinted gold and then faded to the light of a moon. The brush stokes took on a silver gleam as flicks of dust from the very air settled onto the parchment, freezing the vision in place.
Clarity came. And as if waking from a dream, Hector blinked and sighed. He could smell the light musk of Ralph and the warm smoke of Gem’s drawing. He yawned.
“Ralph. You have a wind elemental. We need Wind Ore to add speed to the sword, to curve it into a shape that the wind itself cannot withstand.”
The cat purred but made no other response as silver shone from the sword design.
Gem etched maroon-copper flecked embers across the sword, breathing life back into the coals of fire in the drawing.
“And, Gem, my fire elemental, of course. I need Fire Ore to seal the sword’s power. It’ll need power in the games.”
The running water of the river came to him through the open doors and windows. “And Water Ore to let the sword bend and not break under pressure, to move with unbearable force and not shatter.”
Blue was followed by copper in the design.
He felt the warmth that was that collected in his fur seeping into the marble underneath him. “And Earth Ore to give structure, a place for everything else to be held together.”
The sword design was elegant: long and slender, with a slight curve at the end.
What started as just a black blade was wrought through with the silver of the Wind Ore, the maroon of a Fire Ore, and the royal blue of a Water Ore. Elements rarely touched each other. But the copper of the Earth Ore ran throughout the sword, touching, combining, joining all of its elements.
Where one Ore began and the other ended was inseparable. The gleam of light wove the colors together into a dark rainbow where the folds of Ore would sing through the steel.
A very orange Maine Coon cat sigh broke Hector’s concentration. Ralph was so impressed. He used two words. “Elegant. Beautiful.”
Hector shook his head. Flicks and bits of drool splattered the floor and ceiling, but mostly missed Ralph.
The Newfie inspected the design carefully and whimpered.
“I don’t have any of these, and you can’t buy them. Even to get the Wind Ore, I can’t fly. I don’t know any birds. I don’t even know where to go to get Wind Ore, but I have to do this and I have to do this myself or it won’t be mine.”
Hector lowered his head, and Gem surged forward. The elemental flickered and swirled. Light and dark. Smoke and fire. Rising and falling.
Ralph shook himself, and with rare eloquence, asked Hector a complete question.
“What would the sword be like with just Fire Ore?”
Hector lost himself in the design and then turned away from it. It wasn’t to be. Instead, he grumped.
“Slow. Fragile. One that shattered at the first hit. Warped with no shape and every shape. A useless sword.”
Ralph just blinked at him.
Hector grumped again. “But I have to do this myself. I just need to.”
Ralph gave Hector a polite headbutt. “Nap calling. Instead, I show Wind Ore.”
Hector gasped. “How do I reach it? Where is it? How do you know it? How do we get to it? How do I get to it? Is there a lot?”
Ralph flicked his tail and turned. He strutted out of the house and toward the river. Gem shimmered and disappeared into the ether.
Hector trotted after him, grumbling questions, until he was almost out of breath.
With a sharp turn, they paused. Hector panting. Ralph flicked a look over his shoulder and sat at the dock rising over the river where they’d had their swim that morning.
Hector blinked. “Why are we at the river? Wind Ore will be up somewhere higher where the winds never stop.”
Ralph nodded at him. “Dive.”
With that, Ralph took a running start and threw himself off the dock, disappearing into the water. His tail was the last of him that Hector saw.
Shaking himself, Hector didn’t ponder further. He galumphed down the dock, and he too disappeared into the water.
Water closed in. Down and down. Dim became dark. Dark became darker until blackness closed in. His lungs burned. His nose ached. His eyes were half shut. Hector wanted to inhale, but knew better. Hector started worrying about running out of air.
Ahead, a gray light began to glow, and Hector swept his leg, pulling the water, surging toward the shadow of Ralph. Suddenly, Ralph’s wind elemental showed up.
It first surrounded Ralph, who slowed down, and as Hector caught up, surrounded the Newfie.
And they could breathe in the dim light of elemental wind.
Hector couldn’t help himself. “Why are we swimming down? Where are we going?”
“Cliffs of the Condors.”
The wind elemental bubble sucked them into the tunnel. It started as just a normal, everyday tunnel that you might find hidden underneath a river that nobody knew about.
Hector started sneezing as the magic tickled his nose. “There’s some sort of magic in the tunnel.”
Ralph gave a cat laugh. “Elemental.”
The bubble rolled them again. Magic tickled them between their webbed toes. Wind and water babbled to each other. The tunnel twisted until Hector could not tell which way was up.
He gasped out a laugh as something pushed him from behind.
And they went sailing through an opening into another cave. He stumbled, feeling the coolness of dry, rough rocks under his paws. He shook, expecting to flick off water.
But it was a dry shake, sending out only drool, dander, and loose fur.
“We’re dry!”
Ralph nodded and straightened his whiskers with a practiced gesture.
Hector considered his fur. “It works well, but it isn’t as fun as the dryer.”
“Faster.”
“True. And a lot more interesting.”
Ralph shot the Newfie a slit-eyed cat glare, and his elemental ruffled Hector’s hair fur, making it all stand on end.
Hector shook his head again, jowls swaying, splattering the cave edges with drool.
A cold, dry land.
Rough, dark rocks.
The scent of wind and light that cut through the damp, he would have expected from an underground river cave. “Where are we?”
The orange tabby turned to face him, sat, and raised his head to look above Hector’s head. Hector knew Ralph wasn’t the sort of cat that would ignore you even if he didn’t talk a lot.
So, he circled around Ralph and looked out into the openness of sky. Then he looked up.
And up.
And up.
Unnecessarily, he asked, “Are those the Cliffs of the Condors?”
The cliffs kept going until they disappeared into the clouds. He’d never seen something so tall. Nothing could be that high. He gave a deep swallow.
A small, dark speck came spiraling down from the cliff. Was a pebble falling?
Something was gliding toward them. Slowly, it inched along, becoming larger.
Time ticked by.
Ralph gave a light, snoring purr from beside him. But Hector couldn’t take his eyes off the dot as it got larger and larger.
It’s a little bird, like a mockingbird or something.
But it got bigger and bigger.
Eventually, he could see it was a dark bird with gray flight feathers paired with gray claws. It had a little mane, almost a collar made up of fine white feathers, like fine fur.
The bird had a wrinkled, red-gray head. As the bird got closer, Hector realized that the bird was gigantic. It was huge! Three Newfies could have stood side by side on the bird’s back, and the bird might not have noticed.
Finally, the bird was close enough for him to catch its eye. Its eyes were laughing, and a kindly voice croaked out from the giant condor. “Hello, Ralph. It’s nice to see you again so soon. Please introduce me to your friend.”
Ralph nodded, yawned, and stretched. He twitched an ear towards the Newfie and said, “Hector.”
He twitched the other ear towards the enormous condor. “Wakasa.”
Hector and Wakasa’s eyes met again, and they laughed. They knew Ralph’s laconic nature well.
The condor nodded. “So, Hector, what brings you to the Cliffs of the Condors?”
Hector took a deep breath and explained the quest. “So, I need to collect a Wind Ore. I need to do it myself. But it is so high.”
Wakasa looked at the Maine Coone, who nodded.
The bird, slightly awkward on land, waddled around in a circle. His twinkling eyes never stopped laughing, and finally, the wrinkled gray head returned to inspect Hector.
“I will help you, but I must be entertained in the traditional manner with a dance.”
Hector barked the sharp yip of a surprised dog laugh. “A dance?”
Wakasa nodded again. “Yes. This is how it has always been done by my people through ages far into the past, beyond what any of us can remember, and we remember much forgotten by others.”
The Newfie turned his big, blocky head towards the Maine Coon cat. “Ralph, will you help?”
The Maine Coon flicked his tail. A rhythm starting from the tip and stretched into a graceful bow to begin the dance.
Quick turns, light hops, sweeping paw gut gestures.
His claws left little lines of silver in the air behind him from his wind element.
Hector laughed and answered with a slow, deep bow, where Ralph jumped over him, his elemental ruffling both of their fur. The Newfie continued with slow, powerful steps, a strong counterpoint to Ralph’s delicacy and grace.
Gem flicked to life, casting shadows and light on the dancers, while Ralph’s wind swirled around them like a veil.
Hector’s broad paws drummed a deep rhythm into the earth. Together, they picked up that rhythm and wove a playful duet. Ralph’s nimble moves wound spry and spunky around Hector’s steady, pounding power.
Wakasa’s bright, ancient eyes gleamed. He spread his great wings halfway. The entire cliff held its breath. As the two sprang and rolled, light shimmered, wind whistled, and paws pounded the hard ground.
The next time Hector noticed anything else, an audience surrounded them. A small circle of condors. Their white manes and gray flight feathers glowed silver, the color of wind elementals.
Ralph leaped onto a low boulder. He arched his back in a final flourish. Hector rose up behind him on his hind legs and made a majestic yet comic bow. His hair was wild and standing on end from the elementals. Then Hector danced to Ralph, bouncing around him.
The great condor’s head bounced in time with Hector. “This, this is your friendship. This is when you met.”
Ralph responded to Hector rolling and cavorting around him.
Like waves bouncing up and down, Wakasa’s head swiveled. “And this, this is your swimming rivalry.”
Hector jumped up high off the ground, his front paws reaching as high as Wakasa’s back. Ralph too sprang up. He clambered up the Newfie’s back and leaped off, upward, his elemental raising him up even higher than Wakasa’s head.
As Ralph went up, Hector went down.
He landed and flopped flat.
Moments later, Ralph also flopped flat, landing atop him.
Then, to Hector’s embarrassment, they both started giggling uncontrollably.
Their giggles were broken when Wakasa gave a great booming cry of approval, spreading his wings out full. His mane and his flight feathers now glowed the silver of a wind elemental.
“My friends, my oldest furred friend and my new furred friend, thank you. Rarely have we had such entertainment, full of friendship, humor, and... grace.”
Wakasa settled himself as low as he could next to the boulder Ralph had jumped onto during the dance. His nod was an invitation. The two four-legged friends climbed onto the condor’s back.
With the rest of the condors leading the way, slowly they flew up the cliff.
It took some time.
At one point, Hector knew that Ralph was sleeping because he could feel the rumbling snore.
He understood the reason.
They were too far off the ground to see anything interesting, and too far from the top for that to be interesting. Just as he thought that he saw a silvery glow at the top.
Wakasa told him, “That glow, that is the Wind Ore. Every few weeks, another handful take full form. There are many.”
Hector watched the glow for a while. Newfies weren’t sight hounds, but they had reasonably decent vision, having been bred to watch for drowning swimmers. Finally, he asked Wakasa, “Is the glow dimming?”
Wakasa’s wrinkled red-gray head turned to face his Newfie passenger for a moment, even as the condor’s wings continued to heave them upward.
The eye Hector could see didn’t lose its humor, but it showed concern. “Yes. You’re not seeing things, and that is very wrong.”
By the time they reached the top, there was no more silver glow.
But in the sunlight, they could just see a red tail tipped in white disappearing around the bend.
Wakasa landed, and they looked around the cliff top. Hector didn’t notice the gorgeous view around them. Or the wind. Or striations in the rock - the ancient history thrust up into the sky.
He only saw that there was no Wind Ore.
His voice was a whispered whimper. “Wakasa, thank you for your help.”
But he couldn’t continue further. He knew what had happened, but not how.
The Newfie looked around, trying to find an Ore that had been missed. A warm softness pressed under his chin and he felt the rumble of Ralph’s purr.
The Maine Coon, pressed up once more, then took a moment to shake himself dry, giving Hector time to piece together some words.
“She took it. She took them all. Not just what she needed.” The Newfie bit back a whine. He knew in his heart that Lillian had absconded with all the Wind Ore.
Wakasa’s distress dimmed the humor in his eyes. “Even the partially formed ores are gone. My friend, there will be no more Wind Ore until long after your competition.”
Ralph snickered.
Hector turned, dropping his head and looked at the Maine Coon his hackle dropped at the betrayal of his closest friend. His anger summoned Gem. The elemental light flared above his head.
Then Wakasa laughed.
The big black Newfie whirled. His eyes hollow with hurt surprise as he faced the great condor.
Hector saw that the humor was back in the big bird’s eyes.
Hurt and a bit of fear rolled through him.
Ralph stalked around the condor and stroked along the condor’s great gray claws. He gave one word in a meow. “Now.”
Wakasa waved one wing toward the sky and flickered his tail at the flock that had accompanied them up the cliffs. The flock circled overhead.
One by one they dipped down as if bowing.
Then the last came to the disheartened Newfie: a female with glowing gray feathers and a pebble of silvery light leaking through her claws.
She hovered in front of Hector, obviously waiting.
Hector blinked. His eyes grew rounder and rounder. He gave a delicate bow before he reached out. His large head was small next to the gigantic condor. He took what was offered from the condor’s claw and placed it on the ground in front of him.
Wonder made his voice small. “It’s a Wind Ore.”
Ralph smirked. He sat tall. Smug and superior as only a feline can be.
Wakasa’s head bounced in amusement. “Yes. Ralph came to visit earlier this morning. He asked me to collect a Wind Ore for you. We were going to give it to you at the base of the cliffs, but you wanted to collect it yourself. But you earned it. And one cannot earn an Ore without a dance that pleased all condors. Unfortunately, that left the Ore unattended. We are sorry, but Ralph’s friendship saved you.”
Hector sat without even thinking, his butt falling as if the cliff surface had too much gravity. The large Newfie eyes blinked at his old friend and his new friend.
“Thank you. You are more than I deserve.”
He rose a little unsteadily and dog-hugged each of them. Wrapping his head and shoulder half around them, although there was very little of Wakasa he could reach to hug.
“I will make fish for you, my friend, and coffee for you, Ralph, and honeyed tea for your elemental. After I’ve defeated Lillian in the competition.”
His two friends nodded, and laughter rang across the Cliffs of the Condors.
Cozy Fantasy
Tod here this week. I trimmed back our cozy story to be fantasy. It’s still very cozy but not having to make sure all the extra tropes needed for true cozy were present saved me a lot of vital time.
In regard to vital time, Hector’s story is going on the back burner while we concentrate on some long form fiction that has more defined deadlines.
The tale of Hector and Ralph’s dance was inspired by one of the variations of the tale of the Fox and the Condor. ShyStoryteller has a summary of the legends here. The website has summaries of a bunch of legends and myths from all over the world.
Chaos Tip of the Week
Always be yourself and don’t be afraid to dance when everyone is watching. Chances are, they can’t dance either and will appreciate the effort on their behalf.
Chaos Question of the Week
Have you ever considered taking dance classes? If so, what kind?
We both adore ballet and used to have season tickets. But ballroom dancing always seems like fun.
~Tod and Anna
More IP Writing on the Way!
Anna and I are please to announce that our story, Family Honor, has earned a spot in the Annals of the Auran Empire anthology. Arbiter of Worlds has a blog post with the complete author list and more details. The anthology is set in the Adventurer Conqueror King System Imperial Imprint RPG universe of the Auran Empire. (Think Fantasy Rome.)
Crowd funding opens June 8th, and you can sign up to be reminded via BackerKit now!
https://www.backerkit.com/call_to_action/8b8be898-82a5-4dc9-868d-aa9a9b449f6e/landing
We’re pleased to see our fellow Alpha Mercs joining us: Zane Voss, Sam Robb (the first anthology we were in was also with Sam), B.K. Gibson (who also gave great developmental feedback during edits https://coldlightrpgpress.weebly.com/), and Nathaniel McIntyre.
We think our story has the most interesting one liner in the announcement:
“Family Honor” by A. Kristina Casasent, featuring a Ring Against the Wolf, tells the story of a Tirenean nobleman struggling with the challenge of producing an heir with his new wife.
For more details, checkout the Arbiter of Worlds blog!
https://arbiterofworlds.substack.com/p/annals-of-the-auran-empire-authors




