As Gendry was finishing the application of the crushed red crystal to the blade, Yéye was walking him through the steps needed to encase the thin crystal in star metal. One of the treekin scholars walked in and, in rough Westeros, said, "This is the finest fire crystal I have ever seen. I give it for the completion of your blade." The thin crystal glowed red in the light, and the color was so dark as to border on purple. When Yéye examined the crystal, he whistled and nodded at the treekin. Gendry bowed low to the treekin, thanking him in rough treekin language. Yéye pointed to a small bar of star metal, and Gendry began to reach for it. Then he stopped saying, "If this sword is my own creation, it should contain my home in the making of it." He reached into a drawer and pulled out three small pieces of Valyrian steel. He handed one to Yéye, who studied intently. He motioned for the wooden mallet, and Gendry handed it to him.
Yéye tapped the small piece, and it rang truer to his ears than any sound he heard metal make. He motioned for the other pieces, and he tapped each as they were handed to him. His eyes went wide at each tone, and he began speaking rapidly. Beth happened to be walking near the rooms and heard this outburst. She entered the room to translate for Gendry, saying, "He says he has never heard metal ring with such a tone before. He wonders if the metal was made with some magic and how hard it is to melt." Beth explained to Yéye the little that is known about Valyrian steel. It has been said to have been created by magic and dragon breath. Yéye seemed unsure what a dragon was, so Beth did her best to explain it to him. Through Beth, Yéye asked Gendry how he hoped to melt the metal. Gendry responded by hefting his hammer as flames licked its head. Yéye nodded thoughtfully and began to explain how he should attempt it. He handed two of the metal pieces back to Gendry and pointed to the forge. He placed them in the hottest part of the fire until they glowed red. He used tongs to place them on his anvil and began hammering fiercely. The glowing metal pieces sparked angrily with each blow, but beyond melding them into one piece, nothing was accomplished. Yéye watched this with understanding. He stood and spoke through Beth, "I have a secret powder that may just be enough to make that metal molten. It is very rare and exorbitantly expensive. I will trade you this small bag for this last piece of metal." He produced a small bag from his robes. Gendry nodded, and Yéye approached the forge. He took the tiniest pinch of the grey powder and tossed it in the hottest part of the forge's fire. An angry flame burst from that spot, and Yéye made a hurry up motion to Gendry.
Gendry nestled the melded Valyrian steel piece into the middle of those flames, and the steel looked as if it would melt. Yéye tapped his shoulder, pulled it from the forge, and began hammering it relentlessly. It worked, and he was able to draw the metal into a thin sheet and then hammer a curve into it. Yéye stopped him and motioned to the blade tang. The tang had been carved to hold the crystal in a notch. The central depression didn't weaken the tang. Yéye, through translation, told him to place the crystal on the rounded side of the steel, then place it all in the notch. Yéye then pointed to the fire, and through translation, Gendry asked, "Won't the flames melt the tang?" Yéye responded, "Not if the piece has been well made, perhaps. This is unknown territory, and the outcome is in question. This is what true blacksmiths live for."
He smiled at Gendry and threw another pinch of powder into the flames. He slapped Gendry on the back and said, "Good luck, blacksmith." Before Beth had finished translating his words, Gendry placed the tang of the sword in the glowing fire. The Valyrian steel glowed with some magical reaction to all these elements. It somehow absorbed almost all the heat. And then it melted, surrounding the small crystal, and red waves were emitted during the process. The small group watched in amazement as small red tendrils of the metal began crawling up the tang, through the guard, and attaching themselves to the base of the blade. The whole thing flashed bright red, and it was done.
Gendry gently pulled the weapon from the fire and whispered to Yéye, "Is it done?" Beth translated, and Yéye responded, "No, there is one more thing that must be done before this masterwork is finished." He produced a small stamp with the letter G on its end. He pointed to a spot on the guard and made a swift striking motion, holding the stamp in the other hand. Beth translated his words, "To become a master blacksmith, you must sign your works. I made this stamp before I came here, wondering if my new student would be worthy of it. You must strike true, and the work will be finished, and my mentoring of you will be done. I thank you deeply for your learning and for teaching an old man like me new things and processes. Strike well, student and graduate into a true master blacksmith!" Gendry placed the stamp properly and struck true. When he looked, there was no sign of the G. Yéye nodded happily and said, "It is there, good blacksmith; those who know can find it." Yéye gathered his things and payments, hugged Gendry, and laughed loudly and happily, all the way to his wagon home.