Rise of the Living Forge

Short Sword: Average Quality

[Ringing Blows]: This item remembers the ringing of the man who forged it. While wielding it, you may use a small amount of your magical energy to imbue your attacks to leave a faint resonance behind upon impact. Repeated strikes against the same area will cause increased damage.

[Hungry]: This item hungers for power, and will consume more magical energy than necessary in order to function.

“Would you look at that,” Arwin mused, holding the sword up to the light. “That’s actually rather useful. Not bad. Not bad at all. It still managed to pick up a detrimental property, but considering the chance of that is eighty percent right now, I don’t think I can complain. It’s good to know I can get two different properties on a single weapon.”

“Whoa.” Reya’s voice came from behind him.

Arwin turned, finding Reya standing in the doorway of the smithy, her eyes wide. He lowered the sword, then picked up the sheath from one of the swords he’d taken from the Brothers Six, swapping the blade out for his own.

“Staring is impolite,” Arwin said.

“Sorry.” Reya shook her head, blushing. “I just saw the swords you were making before. No offense, but they sucked. You’re getting better at a crazy rate. Were you just screwing around before?”

Arwin looked over to the pile of garbage, then chuckled. “No. I’m just a fast learner.”

“Right,” Reya said, clearly not believing him. Arwin’s stomach rumbled before either of them could say anything else, and it was Reya’s turn to laugh. “Time for lunch?”

“I’d say so,” Arwin agreed. “I hoped you’d gone out to get it.”

“I did, but Lillia actually said I wasn’t allowed to take food out anymore. She’s trying a new strategy of getting people to stay in her tavern longer.”

Arwin squinted at Reya. “You say people, as in plural. Does she actually have other customers?”

“Er… she’s got one. I’ve seen a drunk guy passed out in her shop every once in a while. That’s it, though. She’s just really adamant that she can’t have the right atmosphere if people are always coming in and leaving right after.”

“I’d say the first problem is that she’s trying to build an inn on the least populated street in the city,” Arwin said dryly. He brushed his hands off on his shirt, then shrugged. “Her cooking seems to be improving, though. Perhaps it’s worth a trip out of the old building.”

Arwin glanced around his smithy, but there wasn’t much he really had to put away or move. He took a moment to take his potentially explosive magical sword and bury it beneath the pile of garbage before following Reya out of the open doorway, stepping carefully to avoid slipping on the rubble.

I really need to start looking into improving this building. It’s depressing.

“Do you think we can make this place look a bit better soon?” Reya asked as they walked down the street, reading Arwin’s thoughts perfectly. “Or at least add some beds? I’m not unused to sleeping on the floor, but I don’t normally stay in one spot this long. I mean, I’m not really bringing in any money so I can’t tell you what to do, but–”

“I’d say you’ve brought in more than enough supplies to give you some say over what we do,” Arwin said, raising a hand to stall her. “And I agree. Some comfort would be nice, and improving the smithy will be important if I want more people to come. I think the first step will be finding a way to sell some of my work, though. I need a wooden cart or something of its like that I can bring to a more populated area of the city.”

“I’ll keep my eyes out.”

Arwin suppressed a laugh. “I need to get one the proper way, Reya. I don’t want to have someone chasing me down the streets because they recognize the cart I’m selling out of.”

“Oh,” Reya said, her face falling. “Right.”

They came to a stop at the end of the street, before a building that was somehow in worse shape than Arwin’s smithy. He squinted through the empty window frames, but it was so dark inside that he couldn’t make a single thing out.

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“This is the tavern?” Arwin asked doubtfully. “It looks like a morgue.”

“It’s a bit weird looking,” Reya admitted. “I try not to stay inside too long. If I’m being honest, it kind of gives me the creeps. It’s still a tavern, though! Or… well, Lillia is good at cooking. That makes it a tavern. Right?”

Reya sounded like she was hoping that Arwin would convince her. He let out a long-suffering sigh and shook his head.

“Well, the food certainly wasn’t bad. Might as well take a look.” Arwin stepped through the doorway, ducking slightly to avoid hitting his head. He squinted into the darkness, just barely able to make out the room beyond.

Broken tables and chairs littered the floor. A counter sat at the back, mostly rotted through and collapsed. There was a single stool in front of the counter, and it didn’t look like it could hold much weight. Piles of glass shards and other debris had been swept into the corners, just barely visible in the faint light that came from a doorway at the back. Faint scuffles came from through the doorway, as well as the muted noise of what Arwin suspected to be humming.

Reya cleared her throat. “Lillia? Are you here? I came back to get lunch!”

Her words echoed through the darkness, making Arwin wince. He superstitiously glanced over his shoulder, putting a hand on the hilt of his sword. The back of his spine prickled, and his hair stood on end. Something about the tavern set him on edge. The shadows were too long, and it was far too silent – and dark. Much, much too dark.

It wasn’t the same as his smithy. That building had been equally as run down, but it didn’t feel nearly as ominous. Reya didn’t seem particularly concerned, so she was either completely oblivious to the sensation or had just gotten used to it.

“Who’s asking?” a female voice called. It was followed by several choked coughs and a curse. Smoke curled out of the doorway and trickled out through the cracks in the precarious ceiling.

“That’s Lillia,” Reya whispered before raising her voice to call back. “It’s me, Reya! I came back for lunch. You told me to, remember?”

“Oh, right.” There was a short pause. The smoke pouring out of the kitchen intensified, and Reya exchanged a glance with Arwin. There were some hurried thuds, followed by a loud crunch. The smoke stopped. “Do you mind waiting a bit? I may have set lunch on fire.”

“That’s fine,” Reya said before Arwin could say anything. She walked up to the counter, ignoring the small pieces of debris that crunched beneath her feet with every step, and carefully sat down on the stool. It creaked precariously.

“Sorry,” Reya said. “Only one chair right now.”

“So I see,” Arwin said dryly. “And I suspect there are no chairs that hold my weight.”

“Hold on,” Lillia called from within the kitchen, her tone gaining a panicked note to it. The shuffling from behind the wall grew more aggressive. “Did you bring someone else with you? Is that a new customer?”

“It’s just Arwin. You’ve been cooking for him a while already,” Reya explained. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh no. This is a horrible precedent,” Lillia said. There was another crash, followed by a series of curses. “I’ll have food out as soon as possible, I promise! Just wait a little longer?”

“I thought she wanted more customers?” Arwin asked, whispering to avoid stressing the poor woman any further.

“She does,” Reya whispered back. “But I think she’s also worried about disappointing them, you know? I don’t really know her that well, but she clearly cares a lot about what people think of her cooking. She plied me with questions about how we liked the food every time I got something from her.”

Arwin grunted. He walked up to the counter beside Reya, glancing around for somewhere to sit before promptly giving the idea up. There really was only a single stool, and it definitely wasn’t holding his weight.

He put a hand on the bar, leaning gently against it to make sure it wouldn’t collapse beneath him. When the wood didn’t make too many creaks of protest, he allowed himself to put the rest of his weight against it.

The uneasy feeling still gripped him, but at this point, his desire to eat something was greater than his concern. He highly doubted that there would be anything truly dangerous in this backwater city, and even though he didn’t seem to need real food anymore, he still relished the taste.

Minutes ticked by. Arwin listened to Lillia’s hurried cooking through the wall. He could hear her muttering to herself, but the exact words were lost. Reya didn’t seem to mind the wait, and was busying herself by organizing tiny pieces of broken wood on the counter before her.

“Have you ever been in here before?” Arwin asked.

“Only to wait while the food was getting made,” Reya replied, glancing up from her artwork. “Why?”

“Just wondering. It feels a bit… concerning,” Arwin said.

Reya scrunched her nose. “Oh, yeah. I felt like that at first too. I haven’t gotten stabbed yet, though. That makes it better than most of the places I’ve been in.”

“Your standards are far too low,” Arwin informed Reya, shaking his head. She did have a point, though. Nobody had tried to stab them. Yet.

Arwin was about a second from drumming his fingers on the countertop in impatience when Lillia finally called out to them again.

“Okay! I’m so sorry about the wait, but I’ve got your food ready!”

Lillia hurried out of the kitchen, her dark purple skin nearly invisible in the dim light. It looked vaguely familiar, but Arwin didn’t have much time to process it. He was much more interested in the food she was carrying. She moved so quickly that Arwin’s eyes could barely track her, but she came to a stop on the other side of the bar when she went to put two steaming plates of fried rice down before them.

“Enjoy!” she said cheerfully.

Arwin’s gaze lifted to Lillia’s – and he froze. He recognized the scar that ran along her right eye. He recognized her features, even as covered in grime as they were. And, as her expression shifted from excitement to shock, Arwin knew without a doubt that she recognized him.

Standing before him, two plates of fried rice in her hands and an award-winning smile on her face, was the Demon Queen.