De Nebula Ferrea

Everyone had heard of the man with the silver hands. They told tales of him defeating all manners of beasts, both fantastic and real, of his skill with weapon-making, of his volcanic temper, but those that interested Ilona most were the ones that told of his knowledge of lost technology. There weren't many, truth to be told—most cared more about the slaying of monsters.

It made sense—Medusa was a hostile world, and every inhabitant had to worry about their own survival. Listening to stories about someone who could make it safer, if only for a moment, lifted spirits. For most, this was enough, but Ilona wanted to know. She wanted to learn: what made Medusa so dangerous, so volatile, how the ancient machines her clan owned worked and how they were built, who this mysterious giant was…

Her parents and the clan elders had long ago stopped being able to provide answers for the ever flowing river of questions. Frankly, she suspected some had had quite enough of her long ago, given that every explanation they gave to her was met with instant probing and examination. Nowadays, she tended to seek answers on her own, be it in old manuscripts or by fiddling around with whatever the clan would not mind to see dismantled.

Then, one day, she heard that her brothers and cousins had seen the man with the silver hands and something that had been so far quietly nesting in her mind bloomed into an idea. She would seek this mysterious giant out and ask him to teach her.

A lonely traveller was always at risk. Ilona was quite aware of that, but back in the safety of the crawler, she had considered the danger quite acceptable. Now that she was actually out there, she was forced to re-evaluate her position.

She hid behind a large boulder, knowing that the beast had her scent and would not let her go. Flight was not an option; she would have to fight. With a thought she drew a thick curtain of mist around herself and the surrounding area. It would distort sounds, hide her movements and confuse her scent; give her a few minutes.

The beast stopped, confused by the sudden change of weather. It turned its head left and right, trying to catch Ilona's spoor again. The young woman slid around the rock, so that she could peer past it and watch the looming shadow. Her mist had its downsides—it obscured her vision as much as that of those trying to catch or harm her. Still, she could make out the general shape of the animal.

She focused her power again, forming five whips of water. They created a rough circle around the beast and as soon as they sprung to existence they lashed against it, caging it. The creature reared and bucked, trying to free itself, but the watery tendrils coiled around it, forcing it stay in place.

Ilona levelled her gun and shot. The first went wide, since her concentration wavered a bit and the beast managed to evade by moving its head. The second and the third were true, however, piercing the red cavern of the animal's maw and exiting through the back of its skull. It slumped and Ilona let the mist dissipate.

She rose slowly; looking around to make sure the beast had been alone, when she saw the giant. For the first time, she could appreciate how true the description was—he practically loomed over her, like a mighty keep over a cottage. And his hands really were silver—as were the piercing eyes that measured her. And he clearly was not liking what he was seeing, judging from the frown that creased his already craggy features.

"What are you doing out here alone, you little idiot?" he snapped.

Ilona froze at first, feeling the man's scrutiny on her, but somehow she shook it off. She had her purpose. As the giant approached her, she squared her shoulders and said, "I am Ilona of clan Karguul. I want to learn from you."

The forge called to him. Had he been more poetically inclined, he might have thought of music and souls, but for Ferrus Manus such lofty words had little meaning. He was a smith and a warrior first and foremost. Whatever else he might have been was a mystery he could not solve.

The metal was still white hot as he shaped it, the sound of metal ringing against metal loud in his ears. Slowly, the iron was becoming a sword, its shape changing gradually. There was still work ahead of him, but the end result was becoming clearer by the second.

He could not do the same with himself—as much as he tried, he could not shape himself into something he would know. Parts of him were hidden from himself. To shape metal, one must know it: its weaknesses, the point when it melts and when it breaks.

How could he shape himself if he did not know any of that about himself?

Ferrus Manus had not expected that kind of answer. He sized the young woman up again—she did not seem out of ordinary from what he could see. Strands of black hair slid out from a sensible-looking hat into a pale face and a pair of blue eyes met his gaze.

He gave a bullish snort. "Why should I teach you?"

Her eyebrows rose, but Ilona of clan Karguul kept her calm. "Because I wish to learn. I want to know why the world is the way that it is."

Ferrus Manus shrugged, but inwardly he was starting to feel a grudging admiration. This woman had the guts to seek him out, instead of secluding herself in the safety of the crawler of her clan. "And what makes you think I have the answers?"

The young woman seemed to consider her answer, her lips pursed in concentration. "You may not have all the answers, but they say you know about the old machines. Perhaps you know less than in the stories, but even then, whatever I would learn from you would be worth putting myself at risk."

He was used to travelling alone. Another person with him would force him to acclimatize, maybe change some habits. On the other hand, he did not want to refuse outright, given that it did seem he had misjudged and Ilona of clan Karguul at least had a fairly good reason to search for him. Furthermore, she was capable of protecting herself—the carcass of the beast was proof enough of her skill with a gun. He would not have to nanny her.

Besides, perhaps by teaching someone, he would learn more about himself.

"I will allow a test period," he said. "You have a month to convince me you are worthy of being my apprentice."

Ferrus Manus had proven to be a very exacting companion. He expected Ilona to keep up with his long stride and to be able to fend for herself. The only allowance he made for her was stopping for the night.

The first lesson she had to learn was field-stripping her gun. She had thought she could do it, but not according to the silver-handed giant. He had her take it apart and put back again so many times her hands were cramping the first evening and the second. Slowly, it became a kind of a ritual, with Ferrus Manus standing over her and glowering on her efforts.

Another might have given in and left, but not Ilona. She reassembled the gun over and over, until by the end of the week, she heard, "Very good. You're learning."

The second lesson was a more complex one. They had arrived at one of the clan crawlers and Ferrus Manus decided that she could make her own weapon. He had lead her into a forge, and she had to marvel that it had been simply left to his use. The smith wasn't even there, his tools neatly arranged under one of the walls. Only the simplest automatic processes were still running and Ilona had to fight down the urge to leave her teacher, and check if they were operating on the same principles as those at home had been.

Ferrus Manus placed several bars of iron before her, but instead of telling her to get to work, he started telling her about the metal.

"This is not pure iron," he said.

Ilona nodded. "Of course. Pure iron is too soft to be of any use, besides it's not obtainable by smelting."

Ferrus Manus nodded. "Yes. But it's still not what you will make your weapon from. This is the beginning—you will make steel from this."

Ilona's eyebrows knotted in a frown. "Why? Isn't it going to take longer that way?"

"Because this is not really about making a weapon," Ferrus Manus replied, leaning against the wall. "This is about the different kinds of knowing. You know about metallurgy, but only in theory. To truly understand something, you have to practice—just like with your gun and field-stripping it."

Ilona nodded. "Of course, but I don't want to be a weapon smith. I want to-"

Ferrus Manus pushed himself away from the wall and leaned towards her. "You wanted to learn, and I am teaching you. We can discuss what you want or not after you have learned your lesson."

Ilona was stubborn. Not as obstinate as he was, but she hadn't given up so far. She hadn't wanted to make a weapon, but once rebuked she set to work. It had not gone smoothly, but not as abominably as it could have. The young woman could apply the theory to practice and that did help with not committing the most basic mistakes.

She did not appear happy with the task set before her, but since she worked diligently Ferrus Manus did not consider it something of importance. If she truly did not wish to learn on his terms, she could leave any time. Since she was still there, obviously, she was not discouraged by the test.

It was when the girl reached the point where the metal needed to quenched that he realized there was far more to Ilona than he had first thought. Water sprung from the basin and enveloped the metal, cooling it at, as far as he could tell, just the right pace. He watched it snake around it, sizzling and bubbling for seconds, and then cool almost instantly.

"That fog… that was you?" he asked. Back than it had seemed odd and unnatural, but he had filed it for later, too surprised by her question to really analyze it.

"Yes," Ilona replied. "I'm sorry, I should have told you. I thought you knew."

AN: And Ferrus Manus is lucky enough to end up with Sailor Mercury. Who you might notice does not have blue hair anymore. It's a conscious choice to make the whole thing a bit more serious.