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Alistair waited for her to move closer, his eyes on the weapon in her hand. The Smith wanted to know what kind of flame was used to forge it. All he needed was to smell the weapon, then match the signature with a flame of his own. If he could replicate the fire needed for such a forging, then he could enhance his entire armory. The possibilities for diamond forged weapons were endless.
Once the blade was held out to him, he took it respectfully from her hands. He raise the spears head to eye leave. His silver irises began to glow, as if someone was melting down the silver within his eyes. The heat in the air grew, bringing with it the smell of burning cider. One hand removed itself from the weapon, while the other brought to weapon to his nose. Closing his eyes he touched the tip of his tongue to the flattest part of the diamond. His brows narrowed at the taste. So he brought it to his nose and began sniffing it.
His free hand rose palm up towards the ceiling. With a snap like a tree falling, a white flame erupted into his upturned hand. Slowly the flame began to change colors, as the temperature was changed with each sniff. This might look comical, but it was an effective tool. It was what he used figured out the melting points for Mythril, silver, gold and a few others. This technique was taught to him by a form blacksmith master a few years before he came to the moon pack. Oranthos was his only Elven master in the arts of black-smithing. He trained Alistair to use his gift properly for his craft, This included things like his sense of smell as well.
Though at this point he was beginning to get confused. This scent was strange, It smelt of a Magi Fire, though it was far too off to be that. Then hand held flame turned black as the iron in this forge. Alistair's eyes opened to look at the flame in his hand. It was close, but still off. The black flames were the hottest he could currently create, which could only mean one thing. " Dragon's fire? Fire elemental?....." He released the flame in his hand and offered the spear back to Farore. " I would very much like to know it's origins. Though I would understand if you do not yet trust me enough with this, Special weapon." He was not sure of the properties for this weapon, but he now knew it was of magical origins.

The wolf returned to gripping the claymor. His eyes held contact with her own as she spoke. While his hands were steady at work on the sword. He was interested to find out her mother was a smith. Did not matter the means in which something is forged, it is forged none the less. Alistair paid close attention to every detail she was able to give him on it's construction. It was about this time that he finished the bindings.
He then lifted the sword up and began to oil, and treat the grip. Next he was going to move onto the finishing touches, which would not take long at all. However Farore was now standing with an outward held spear. He had his complete undivided attention. His silver orbs trained on the weapon, as it erupted into a diamond bladed long sword with a silver hilt. Alistair jaw actually dropped open. " I must study this craft." He shook his head and looked away from her blade. " Forgive me, just give me one second." He asked as he held the blade at eye level , as if he were presenting it to himself for the first time. His eyes began to glow like they had once before. They scanned the whole of the weapon with a critical gaze. He then stood catching the sword by it's hilt with his right hand. " Excuse me..."
He walked out the large barn-like doors, and then began swing the blade around. His hand never touched anything other than the spherical pommel. Flipping it from one hand to the other , spinning it in a show off fashion. Then he began to move with it, swing it around by the pommel at invisible enemies. The blade began to sing as it moved through the air fast, and with the intent to rend it's enemies in two. Then with a might downward swing, that came to an abrupt stop inches from the ground. This last swing produced a sound like a guillotine sliding home. With that he lifted the blade back up, and returned to the forge.
He took a rag and began rubbing a strange redish amber fluid into the blade itself. Once it was rubbed in, so that there was only the slightest of red shine. Then once again he brought it up with one hand under the tip, and the other under the hilt. He bent his head, and kissed the blade just above the hilt. When he pulled his head away, there was mark etched into the metal. It was of a Burning, iron crescent moon. Now he grabbed it's hilt with both hands, and began to sing, no lyrics just vocals. The tune seemed to resemble the sound the blade had made whilst being swung. With every second the blade came closer to his forehead.
The second the blade touched his forehead. He began to slowly pull it down his forehead. His skin began to split open with ease, and then heal a few seconds behind. After five inches had been reached, he leaned into the blade with his forehead, and spoke. " Mage Render."' This was spoke with a voice not his own. And as the words were spoken, etching in a strange language began to appear all along the blade's length. Then with a turn, he breathed fire down the length of the blade. To his relief the blade remained unharmed. In fact the flames seemed to be reflected from the blade. He gave a big smile, as he walked over to a wall to remove a large ornate scabbard. He sheathed the sword, and then spoke to the scabbard, as he placed an emerald against the base of the pommel. The scabbard's mythril wiring began to twist,flatten and knot until it took on a symbol that reflected the blade's soul. While the pommel drew in the gem. Once he was finished the symbol on the scabbard could also be seen beneath the gem, amplifying the details of the broken lightening bolt.
Alistair smiled as he slid it onto his back. " Well I think it's time for me to head into to the main shop. Care to join?"

Alistair raised a brow as he rolled the thought around in his head. Then gave a shrug. " Sure thing, Just have to swing by to drop this off." He said indicating the sword slung over his shoulder. With a jerk of his head, he walked out the door. Coming to a stop to hold the door open, waiting for her to pass through it. Once she was outside, he would close and lock up. " Where Would you like me to meet you?"

[ Alistair Exits to Moon Ashe Forge ]

The walk back was peaceful, filled with stories and playful banter. Now the pair was standing infront of Akira's door - which she quickly unlocks and holds open for her companion following closely behind. Akira takes a deep breath as they enter the home a smile crossing her face before letting out a sigh of content. "The desserts could probably go in the fridge until later so they don't melt or become warm" Turning on the light as she enters the kitchen area unloading items onto the counter. Glancing to Yue over her shoulder she asks, "Are you hungry now or did you want to wait a bit?"

Akira pops her head out of the kitchen "I'll start now then! Please make yourself at home! You did, after all, help design this place." she gives him a bright smile before disappearing back behind the wall.

Quickly she pulls out a cutting board along with a few ingredients she had in the cabinets. Looking down at the items mentally checking the list in her mind, when Akira comes upon one of the spices she frowns realizing she had forgotten to ask a very important question "Yue? I umm..Do you like spicy foods?" biting her lip as she looks down at the counter, awaiting his answer.

As she finishes setting the table Yue begins talking about the packs training, stirring the pot one more time before making her way out to where he was. "What kind of training do they teach? Survival skills?" Taking a seat on her couch she looks to him with a small smile. Akira wanted to learn as much as she could about the packs traditions, it spiked her interest since there wasn't anything of the sort in her past. "What do you do when you get sent out for the season?"