Tom tapped his pencil on the edge of the notebook on his desk. His enchantment notes from the development of his armor were spread out as well. Getting close enough to fight those monsters was dangerous. He had done well enough, but if he encountered one with more intelligence he would be in trouble. The spear turned out to be a good idea. It gave him distance and functioned well enough as a wand-type thing. Something that allowed more range would be for the best. He didn't know if he could enchant a rifle or pistol if he could even get one. A bow and arrow would be his best option.
The bow portion of the weapon was simple enough. It was the arrows that gave him trouble. He would have to enchant each one individually. They would be single use. It was way too much effort for something so temporary. A quiver strapped to his hip would be too awkward in the urban environment. It was going to be tricky to acquire enough proper material to craft the bow let alone a constant supply of arrows. He also didn't like the idea of running out of arrows in the middle of a fight. The monsters would inevitably get close enough to require the use of the sword, shield, or spear. He planned to pepper them with arrows until they were in melee range.
Tom paused for a moment as inspiration struck. He didn't need to craft the arrows; he could use the bow the same way he had the spear. It would be a mixture of a wand and staff with the sole purpose of combat magic. The bow wouldn't need defensive enchantments aside from some to reinforce the structure. Essentially, he would be using spells instead of arrows. His wand could work in a pinch, but the odds of it breaking in the middle of a fight were too much to ignore. It would be great against other wizards. These monsters weren't the type to stand and trade spells as most wizards would. Focusing solely on a variation of one spell would limit the function of the bow. It wouldn't be a proper magic foci and he was fine with that. The incantation was the easiest part.
Medeis Telum. The literal translation being Magic Arrow.
The creation via Arithmancy and Runes flowed a lot easier once he had a proper plan. His next problem was complex in its simplicity. What could he use to make the bow? He needed something that would hold the enchantment without being a potential danger to him. His armor would protect him against mundane explosions. He was in no hurry to test it against magical ones. His forethought to pack extra silver and his tools were a boon but didn't solve the issue completely. He needed more than just silver if he was going to construct what was basically a specialized wand.
"I need wood," He muttered.
The bombed out remains of nearby buildings meant there were plenty of scraps around. He was not going to use them unless he had no other choice. The residual emotional aura on them would influence the enchantments. Fear, pain, anger, and sorrow soaked into every piece of rubble with only the tiniest linger happiness that it may have once contained. He would have to adjust the enchanting process to take that extra energy into account.
An idea sparked his inspiration. The cross in the chapel. It was made of wood and had been hanging there since the place had been constructed. Years upon years of faith, awe, and belief would make for an excellent boost of power to any enchanted item. It wouldn't simply be a slight sliver either. He would need something at least his height to give him material to work with.
He shook his head. That wasn't an option. Stealthily applying protection wards to the orphanage and church against Sister Veria's wishes was one thing. It was a necessary deception to protect the children. Sister Veria wouldn't be happy if she found out, but she would understand. Stealing the cross from the chapel was something completely different. He wouldn't be able to look her in the eyes if he did that.
There had to be something in the church that he could use. Things had to have broken or worn down over the years. The best place he could think to look was the basement they used as a bomb shelter.
Tom closed his journal and cleaned his desk before he left the room. He didn't think anyone would steal from him, but he didn't want any of the younger orphans to stumble across it. The calculations, notes, and all that could easily be smudged or turned into coloring pages.
He made his way through the orphanage until he found the door to the basement. The place had been converted to safe area as well as they could with the supplies they had. Multiple piles of blankets with pillows were spaced out along the area. Each one had a few little comfort items such as teddy bears, toys, and the occasional book. Candles were spaced along the area as well as a couple lanterns. More importantly, the extra furniture had been pushed against the far wall. A few items caught his attention right away.
There were a few pews, candlesticks, and most importantly, a lectern. The pews could probably be used once more after the war. Candlesticks didn't have enough material. The lectern had already been replaced and there was plenty of wood to use.
Tom shrunk the lectern and put it in his pocket before returning to his room. A quick Finite returned it to proper size. He spent the rest of the day making measurements and where the runes would fit. The lectern was made from maple wood. Thankfully, any polish had been worn away.
His knowledge of wand-lore was a lot deeper than expected. Inherited memories told him at one point Tom wanted to be a wandmaker. There was many little bit of knowledge that he was learning.
Maple was said to be for intelligent witches and wizards with a penchant for innovation and inventors. That seemed to fit this project perfectly. The wood was known to be difficult to control initially but would do amazing once he had proven his genius.
Tom began to explain his intent as he shaped the wood. He walked through each step, voicing his process, the Arithmancy, his original runic array, and the other pieces of his armor. Honestly, he didn't know if it would do anything to help the wood accept his enchantment. Putting his thoughts into words helped him focus if nothing else. He stopped for a dinner break then went back to work.
He set his tools on the desk. Carving tools, a stack of silver, and a miniature crucible to melt it down. The shape of the bow came easily enough as he was aiming for function over form. Tom picked a simple English Longbow as the template. He set the crucible to heat as he began to carve the runes in the bow. Without a string the piece of wood had a slight curve to it rather than the shape most people would expect. He wasn't sure if magical arrows required a bowstring. More testing was required.
Tom started the hardest portion of the process once the silver was hot enough to turn to liquid. Applying the metal to the runes was a long, delicate task that had to be done in short bursts to prevent clumping. Any mistake meant he would have to completely redo the rune as each one needed to be completed in a single application.
It was early morning by the time he finished. His shoulders ached, his hands were cramping, and it felt like he was a hunchback. Times like these made him wish that he had access to a healing ward. A hot shower would be amazing if it had been an option.
Tom stretched out on his bed, forcing his back straight and pushing his limbs as far as they could reach. His body let out a series of cracks and pops. He did feel better once the that was finished. The bed wasn't as comfortable as the one at Hogwarts. He was too tired to care.
~
"Tom," A child's voice said. "Tom. Tom. Wake up."
Tom replied with a grumbled groan.
"It's lunch time," The child said.
Slowly, he pushed himself into a sitting position. His vision was blurry, his mouth was dry, and he desperately needed to use the restroom. He stumbled down the hall to complete his 'morning' routine before trudging into the dining room. The kids greeted him as he entered, but he could only manage a small wave. He didn't taste the food or even pay attention to what it was.
It wasn't until he was back in his room that he was awake. Tom perked up when he saw the complete bow on his desk. There was an azure glow that played along the runes. He picked it up and felt the magic flow along the bow up to his arm. The maple wood seemed to accept his touch well enough. It needed to find a place to test it.
Tom went through his memories of the area around the orphanage. There was a park not too far away. It had a nice open stretch that he could use to test his bow. He was too excited to care if anyone saw him.
He plucked the bow from the desk and whispered a spell to shrink it down. It absorbed the magic better than he had hoped. The bow curled in on itself as it grew smaller. It took the form of a ring once the process was complete. He held it in the palm of his hand.
"Good boy," Tom said as he slipped on the ring.
It just felt right in the moment. He hurried downstairs and found Sister Veria herding the younger kids to their lessons.
"Thomas," The older woman smiled once she saw him. "I was worried you would be sequestered in your room again."
Tom smiled brightly, "Here I am."
"Wonderful," Sister Veria said. "You will handle the sums and Latin while I prepare the scripture."
Tom froze. A memory flashed along his mind. He helped teach the younger orphans once he was back for the summer. It was something he had volunteered to do as the other nuns fled leaving everything to Sister Veria. That also made sense as to how he knew so much Latin off the top of his head.
He tried not to let the disappointment show on his face.
"Yes, Sister," Tom nodded before heading to where the others were gathered.
Their expectant looks washed any lingering negativity that came from his plans being interrupted. In the previous timeline Tom had tried to become a professor. It wasn't too surprising that he liked to teach before then.
~NOTE:Apologies for the short chapter. I have visitors for the week and don't have much time to write.