Chapter Fourteen - Into the Forge

Chapter Fourteen

I woke with my heart pounding, drenched in cold sweat as images from the nightmare refused to fade. The empty helplessness lingered, clutching at my chest. How could a simple dream feel so devastatingly real? No matter how much I tried to convince myself that I was stronger... I knew I wasn't.

The warmth of the hidden core reminded me disturbingly of the glowing symbol from my dream, the one I couldn't fully comprehend but somehow knew was crucial. I shook it off, hoping denial would work as well here as it did on math homework.

I was not sure how long I was asleep, but I would rather not go back to sleep and dream again, so I grabbed my clothes and headed quietly through the tavern to the street.

The first rays of dawn spilled over Veridiem’s tiled rooftops, painting the streets in hues of gold and orange.

Alright, let's get this done.

I gave a quick stretch and started jogging through the sleepy street, even this early there was only one store open, the bakery. Of course, they had to make fresh batter for bread, I wondered what my life would be like if I were a baker. Maybe I wouldn't have all these nightmares, I haven’t been able to get one uninterrupted sleep since I arrived in this world. However, the dream ignited something in my heart, fear yes, but also motivation.

I couldn’t ignore it; there was something out there and it's coming for me. I have to live with caution, but then I can't remain powerless until the end. So, I was going to push myself, till I couldn't anymore.

Physical training was becoming more and more a crucial part of my routine, I guess my gym teachers weren’t lying when they said that cardio and strength are important. I am guessing that they didn’t realize I would be fighting lightning monsters and giant monkeys. Look at me now Mr. Price.

I wondered briefly what Mr. Price was up to. Probably yelling aggressively motivational catchphrases at terrified supermarket cashiers or trying to bench-press shopping carts to impress soccer moms.

As I jogged, each step echoed a promise. I wasn't just getting stronger for myself, I had to survive, to protect Drew, to find my sister. I couldn't fail, not again.

I ran through the streets until the sun had fully risen, I headed back to the tavern to meet up with Drew. I pushed through the tavern door. Maneuvering between a mix of already tipsy adventurers and those who were getting supplies for upcoming quests. I ducked under a server’s hands which was full of drinks, narrowly avoiding spilling the brew all over my singular set of clothes.

Phew, that was close.

In classic Leo fashion, I smacked my face right into a scabbard and sword on someone in front of me. I could see them spill their drink onto the floor. The whole tavern seemed to stop in place, wide eyed and looking at me. I glanced around, no one was even breathing.

“I’m so-“I began, I was not interrupted, simply stunned by the person who turned to look at me. In front of me was a menacing specimen, actually menacing was too soft a word. He was a towering fortress, steel armor stretched his entire body, dents and scratches were etched into various parts of his outfit. He dawned a grey ponytail and a thick scruffy beard, a scar stretched from his eyebrow to the bottom of his cheek. This guy was straight out of a movie.

“I’m so, so sorry,” I finally managed to spit out. He just stared at me with golden eyes.

Well, I’m dead. Of course it wouldn’t be a hodag or a rooster monster that got me, rather some dude in a tavern.

I began saying my final words in my head as he shifted to face me head-on. Instead, his lips morphed into a smirk. “Watch where you’re going, kid,” he said, in a deep voice that made me certain I hadn’t hit puberty yet. I sighed in relief. I would live to fight another day. The whole tavern let out a similar sigh, and everyone went back to doing their business. “I will, I promise, sorry about the drink,” he waved me off with a dismissive hand.

“Forget about it, kid.” His mouth curled into a faint grin. “But hey, since you owe me, how about you sit and share a drink? You’ve got that fresh-from-nowhere look about you, might as well relax a bit.” He beckoned for me to sit next to him at one of Hen’s wooden tables and I quickly obliged. He snapped his fingers and Hen came rushing over with another drink, I had never seen him move so fast, let alone to help a customer.

“Why the rush? Escaping a dragon, or did you steal a wizard’s hat?” He chuckled. “Nothing so exciting, just coming back from some early training.” I puffed out my chest a little.

“Training, huh?” He picked up his drink and gave a healthy swig, I couldn’t help but notice again how big he was. “What’s your area? Sword, magic, or just the art of dodging tavern folk?”

“Magic mostly,” I said, finding myself relaxing a bit. “Still learning, though. I’ve got a long way to go.”

“Magic, eh? That’s a tough path. Rewards are great, but the risks,” he paused, taking a sip, “they’re greater. Keep that in mind, kid.” His words were lighthearted in tone, but there was an eerie feeling of sadness and experience that came with them. I noticed the large two-handed sword he had on his back.

“That’s a big sword,” I stammered, “you just come back from slaying dragons?” I jested back to him. Without even breaking eye contact he smirked, “Something like that.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

So cool.

I spent the next twenty minutes listening to a story he shared with me about him taking on a blue grizzly barehanded in his last exploration. The bear had left him with the scratches and dents he brandished on his armor. This guy might possibly be the coolest person I have ever met in my life, with every detail, he seemed more and more unbelievable.

“Well, I better hit the road,” he stretched out, his armor clinking, “thanks for the chat, kid.” I nodded and extended my hand, surprised by my own confidence. “Thanks for the story – and for not throwing me out the window.”

He chuckled, a sound that seemed too light for how he looked. “Not today, anyway. What’s your name, magic kid?”

“Leo,” I replied. He shook my hand, basically crushing every bone I had in my hand. “Callan, if you ever decide to swap magic for steel, find me. I could use someone quick on their feet.”

“Thanks, Callan. I’ll keep that in mind.” His face set into a stone-cold expression as he turned and headed out the tavern door, adventurers almost diving to get out his way.

I stared for a moment and then turned to head back to my ‘living quarters’ only to smack my chin against someone’s forehead.

AGAIN!?

“Ouch!” Grace was rubbing her forehead giving me a fiery gaze. “Grace!? You can’t just stand behind me like that!” I laughed, stretching my arms out in a fake hug motion. She quickly reddened up and stood up straight.

“Sorry, Leo. I’m here to get Drew and you, today’s a special day.” I said a silent prayer as she and I headed towards Drew’s room.

“Please, no more crazy training.”

“Better,” Grace said, smiling brightly. Drew and I exchanged wary looks, Grace’s definition of “better” often involved explosions, angry monsters or worst of all, shopping.

Of course it was shopping, this was way worse. It turned out there was some sort of market festival happening in Veridiem, in which merchants would come from all over the world. Grace lead Drew and I towards the hub of the town.

The town square was packed with all sorts of vendors, the smell of food was enthralling, I could basically see Drew levitating over to the nearest food stall. Grace and I followed closely, even she could not resist the smell. On the makeshift table in front of us was a cauldron of a icy white substance. The vendor, noticing our fascination with the cauldron, leaned over the counter, his eyes twinkling with pride.

“You folks seem to enjoy the flavors of the far north,” he boomed in a voice that matched his hairy bear-like physique. “Let me tell you, this here is Frostfire stew.”

He began ladling a serving of the stew, the steam dancing above the bowl like when you put water on a hot burner. “This stew,” he explained, “is inspired by the constant battle in the north between the cold, and encounters with fire breathing serpents. The warmth comes from the fireweed peppers, grown only in the volcanic soils of the Frostfire Isles, while the chill is because of my famous glacier mint, harvested from the very edge of the Northern Glaciers where the sea meets the ice.” His story was enchanting, he explained his homeland with such elegance and passion that it was impossible to resist buying whatever he sold.

As he handed us the bowl, his description painted such an incredible picture in my mind that I resolved to myself that after I accomplish everything I needed to in this world, I would travel there. “This dish”, he gestured towards the stew, “is my way of bringing a piece of that untamed wilderness to the rest of the world.” The aroma hit my nostrils and I quickly shoved a spoon full of it into my mouth. It was unlike anything I had ever tasted. Drew was obviously in heaven as well; he scanned all the vendor stalls and grabbed my arm.

“What is this place, Leo?” Obviously excited about the copious number of items that could fill his stomach, or the shiny gear, or maybe even the pretty girls.

We finished up our food and continued to wander through the festival until our group landed in front of a makeshift brick hut. Clangs of metal banging together could be heard echoing from inside. Grace pushed us closer.

“Come on let’s look at the blacksmith stalls!” she beamed

Drew and I were both excited; nothing sounded cooler than seeing some crazy weapons up close. I ducked under the hut doorway. I found myself standing in front of an impressive forge, run by a burly, short man. Drew leaned and whispered in my ear.

“Damn that guys short.” He whispered.

The man growled and looked up.

“I’m tall for my kind thank you very much.” He scowled

The dwarf, standing no taller than my chest but twice as wide, had a long, braided beard and muscular arms covered in soot and scars. He looked up from his work, his eyes twinkling with curiosity and mischief.

“Names Gamlin. What can I do for you lot today?’

“Just looking around,” Grace said. I was in awe of the dwarf’s well used tools and heat emanating from the forge. “But, um, maybe you could tell us a bit about your craft?” She flashed a coin.

Gamlin’s eyes lit up at the request. “Ah, you’ve come to the right place, lads! Let me show you.”

He led us to a workbench cluttered with various pieces of metal and half-finished weapons. “There are three main metals used for weapons and armor: regular iron, rare sunlight steel, and the dangerous darksteel.”

He held up a simple looking sword. “This here is your basic iron. Good for beginners, but not much use against anything tougher than a hobgoblin. But this.” He shuffled behind his desk, taking out something that was covered by a deep blue silk. He unveiled a shimmering blade that seemed to glow bright white.

“This,” he said reverently, “is sunlight steel. Forged from ore found only in the highest peaks where the sun shines the brightest. It’s light, strong. and holds an enchantment like nobody’s business.”

Finally, he pointed to a sinister-looking black blade with veins of dark red running through it. “And this,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, obviously enhancing the ambiance, “is darksteel. Found deep in cursed mines or dungeons, it’s a metal that corrupts its user as much as it empowers. It can be incredibly powerful, but it comes with a risk. Use it wisely, if at all.”

Drew and I traded scared looks.

“Cool,” We both said in unison.

“But wait,” I said. “What did you mean by enchantments?”

Gamlin grinned, “Ah, you’ve been paying attention! Imbuing is where the real magic happens. For example, when you slay a monster, it can leave behind a core, these materials have power, as do a lot of things in the world. The stronger the core or item, the stronger the potential for great enchantments. Of course, you can put these in anything, such as weapons or armor and if you channel Aether through them, you can enhance their abilities or even have them perform a preset spell without incantation. Of course, those are incredibly rare and can only be used a few times.”

He picked up a small, ornate dagger and pointed to a glowing stone set into the silver hilt. “This core here came from a lesser drake. It allows the blade to cut through armor as if it were butter and gives the wielder a boost in fire resistance.”

Grace audibly gasped. “Where did you get a drake core!? How much?”

Gamlin’s eyes beamed, and Grace was obviously saddened by the absurd number that followed. Grace turned to us, elaborating on the imbued dagger. “It’s similar to combination magic, Leo,” Grace explained. “But instead of two Mages blending Aether, the core serves as a permanent source of elemental Aether, amplifying the user's natural power. It’s like having a mage’s assistance without the mage.”

I nodded eagerly, practically bouncing. 'That's amazing. But how exactly do you fuse a core into the weapon? Does it require specific runes, or some special kind of Aether?”

Gamlin chuckled, “It’s no easy task, lad. You need the right tools, a steady hand, magic, and a great blacksmith of course.” He pointed to himself, his white teeth contrasting his dust covered skin. “But once it’s done, the weapon and core become one. It’s a bond that can’t easily be broken.”

We spent a while watching Gamlin work. He was disappointed we didn’t buy anything and would mumble words like ‘beggars’ and ‘broke’ under his breath, but he seemed like a nice enough ‘dwarf’?

We started our walk back, Drew and Grace chatted about the cool things around the festival, but my brain tuned them out. My mind kept drifting back to the hidden core I'd found. Gamlin said powerful cores made the strongest enchantments. Just how powerful would the core from the Howler Monkey King be?