Nikita Valesta - Spirit Knife

Toiling in the forge. The little house in Litchfield sure saw some visitors. Nikita was not just going to pressent the finished project to Wasp as chiminage for the Gift of the Spirit Knife, she was turning the entire crafting proccess into chiminage - Wasp was an Architect, a builder, a crafter, and the crafting of the weapon would serve as chiminage as well as the weapon itself.

Hours upon hours, days upon days, weeks upon weeks. Nikita went there in the small hours before the sept woke up - before her daily practice with the Warder, Nikita found herself with a hammer in her hand and the sweat streaming over her skin. She even went as far as putting some spare clothes into a closet in the house so she could use that in the forge and not soak her dedicated ones in sweat. The clothes she wore all bore the image of Wasp, cut from various materials and stitched onto the clothes. She could not wear her robe in the heat of the forge, but the least she could do was to cleanse her mind and wear the clothes she had dedicated to the task.

In the forge, her mind would go where it otherwise steered clear. In the forge, her mind was set on one goal and it was her will and solely that, which shaped the materials under her touch. Sanctified herbs were burning in the forge itself, the red hot metal was sprinkled with purified water and the cut leaves and rootswere mingled in and gave off puffs of smoke and scent when hitting the white hot coals.
She strook hard, again and again hammering metal against metal to shape, bend and force the strength of the earth into the shape that she desired and with her teeth bared and a growl in her throat, Nikita saw the stiletto forming under her hands, she saw the metal bend to her will and take the shape that she demanded.
Her mind went to blood and fights, to the death of the battlefield and to the pinpoint strikes of her pack, of her arrows... of the Wasp's precision in the stinger, the unrelenting stabs and cuts, the Wasp's unseen attacks... the one who was felt rather than seen.

When she dipped the stiletto into the water, the hiss and the steam drowned out all sights and sounds and Nikitas eyes were wide open but saw nothing except the shape in the mist formed by the weapons finished blade.
The wasp was there... Wasp was watching. Quickly she took the handle, placed the blade right and fastened it with the two slender rivetts, fixating the blade into the handle, finishing the work with two precise strikes of the hammer.

Holding the stiletto out to the ghastly image of Wasp, Nikita closed her eyes, waiting to see if Wasp would accept her chiminage, the toil and the blade itself, in return for the knowledge of the Spirit Knife.
The last one had been bad, it had not been straight, the balance had been off and the point had been dull, but this time, Wasp would be proud. She had kept Wasp in mind when working and she had focussed her will into her blade, forcing it straight with swift strikes.
This time, she had crafted a blade worthy of Wasp's viscious stinger.