Rise of the Living Forge

Arwin dismissed [Avenging Strike] immediately. He was already good enough at killing things, and while he suspected [Avenging Strike] and [Scourge] would likely stack on top of each other, he really had no desire to take another combat skill.

Both of the other two Skills were interesting, though. [Hammering Blows] would make smithing considerably faster. It didn’t sound very impressive, but over time, it was likely to save him thousands of hours.

[Soul Flame] was a little less clear with exactly what it did. Having an endless source of fire was definitely useful, but the skill had used the word empowering, implying it did more than just replace normal flame.

If that was the case, Arwin was willing to sacrifice efficiency for potential. He could always get stronger and faster with time. And, if [Soul Flame] gave him a higher chance to imbue his weapons with magic, then it was a shoe-in.

Arwin selected the middle skill, and the other two shimmered and faded away. Energy trickled through his body, and he felt a faint heat form within his chest. As soon as he turned his attention to it, the heat intensified.

Holding a hand out, Arwin drew the warmth through his arm and into his palm. A dull yellow spark formed in the air between Arwin’s fingers, swirling into an orb of flame. It crackled patiently, waiting for him to do something.

Even though the fire was warm, it didn’t feel hot. Arwin reached out, holding the back of his other hand against the flame. It wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it just felt like he was holding a loaf of freshly baked bread.

He touched the fire. To his delight, it didn’t burn him. Arwin walked over to the pile of wood and picked up a small piece, holding it to the fire. The wood crackled, starting to smoke. He pulled it away before it could properly catch fire – there wasn’t enough of it to waste.

“So it can’t burn me, but it’s definitely real fire,” Arwin said. He closed his fist around the flame and it vanished, darting back into the center of his body. “That’s useful already. I suppose it’ll remain to be seen exactly what it can do, but there’s only one way to find out.”

Fire coiled from Arwin’s palm, catching onto the wood in the hearth and igniting with a whoomph. Golden-yellow light washed over him, bringing with it a comforting warmth. The wood crackled merrily, though it didn’t smell quite as great as he’d hoped.

“I suppose that’s what I get for working with rotten wood,” Arwin grumbled. He held a hand out toward the fire, testing its heat. To his delight, it wasn’t too hot. In fact, it felt identical to the normal ball of [Soul Flame].

In what was probably the nightmare of any parent with an overly curious child, he stuck his hand right into the flame. And, to his delight, it didn’t burn in the slightest. The flame was nothing more than a comforting caress.

Arwin grabbed a piece of scrap metal and stuck it into the flame, turning his attention to the bellows to heat the hearth to even greater degrees. He continued until the flames roared furiously and the metal within them had turned a deep golden orange.

Once he was confident the heat was high enough, Arwin held his hand out, leaning back to make sure his clothes didn’t catch. While his body might have been safe, he only had a few pairs of clothes and he wasn’t eager to accidentally set any of them on fire.

The heat was just as comfortable as it had been before. Arwin brought his hand closer to the piece of metal, but he couldn’t feel any real discomfort from being near it. Using a single pinky, he tapped it.

Nothing.

Arwin grinned. He wrapped his hand around the bar. It was hot, but not unbearably so. A chuckle slipped from his lips.

“That’s a fun little trick. Now… let’s see. What would this bar like to be?”

***

Arwin was still working the forge when Reya returned. He barely even noticed her enter, and didn’t spot her until he reached for the small sword in the furnace with his bare hands.

“Careful!” Reya yelled.

Arwin froze, spinning to look back at her. She flinched at his gaze.

“What?” Arwin asked.

“You – you were going to reach into the fire with your bare hand,” Reya said. “I was worried you’d burn yourself.”

Arwin blinked, then chuckled. He held a hand out, pulling the burning fire from the hearth and into his palm. The hearth went dark instantly. He’d been working with his Soul Flame for the past few hours, but he loved his choice already. Any flame that he made was completely safe to work with.

He looked down at the crooked sword on the anvil before him and grimaced. Despite his best efforts, he’d been unable to re-create his experience with the dagger. He’d certainly gotten close – at times, he could have sworn that the metal was speaking to him.

But, at some point, he’d lost its voice. Something had gone wrong, and he was left with a sharp piece of scrap. It was still leaps and bounds better than some of the work he’d done earlier, though.

Oh well. Practice is practice. Can’t get good at something without failing in the process.

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Arwin blinked, realizing that he’d been ignoring Reya. He turned back to her. Her eyes were transfixed on the dagger that he’d made some time ago. “Did you need something?”

“Oh, sorry. I got distracted,” Reya said, yanking her eyes away from the dagger. “You… uh… have an interesting dagger. It might be a good idea not to leave that lying around, sir.”

Shit. Even though it’s pretty useless right now, this is probably a pretty decent weapon even in its current, untested state.

“It’s just a test,” Arwin said, picking the dagger up and holding it out so it caught the dim light of the moon shining down through the cracks in the smithy. “Turned out decently enough, I’d say.”

“You made that?” Reya stared at Arwin, then swallowed and shook her head. “I – never mind. Sir, I’ve got the information you asked me to get.”

Arwin had completely forgotten that he’d asked Reya to get anything for him. He lowered the dagger, then cleared his throat and gestured for her to continue. “Ah. Right. Out with it, then. What did you find?”

“There aren’t too many people that really live in this area that make themselves known. There are a fair number of small-time thieves, murderers, and the lot,” Reya said, confidence starting to seep into her tone as she spoke. “The main people that controlled this area were the Brothers Six. They mostly had the street about ten minutes away from here, since nobody actually lives on this one. You know, I only remembered there was a smithy here because I kept thinking how much money I could make if I stole the anvil. Never got around to it because of the rumors of a ghost – and the fact that I wasn’t strong enough to lug it out. I guess they’re the Brothers One-and-a-half now, though.”

“One and a half?”

“One fled and you crushed the other one’s wrist back in the alley before smacking his brains in.”

“I didn’t hit him that hard.”

Reya stared at Arwin. “Right. Brothers Two, then.”

Arwin sighed. “Those jokers were the ones controlling this area?”

“Not all of it, but a good part of it,” Reya confirmed. She tilted her head to the side, digging through her thoughts before speaking again. “Nobody else sticks around long, though. The rumors of the street being haunted are enough to make sure nobody dares try anything. There are a lot of people that go missing around these parts. Even the Brothers Six kept to the streets around this and did their best to avoid this particular one.”

Arwin shrugged. “Okay. Anyone else?”

“Not really. There were a few people passing through, but everyone here is jumpy. I asked everyone I saw, but most people just ignored me.”

Arwin started to nod again, then paused. “Wait. You just… asked them?”

“Yeah. I just wandered through all the houses and asked what they were doing and how long they’d be there. Almost everyone ignored me.”

Well, nobody can say that she isn’t efficient. She’s certainly bold as well. If she’s worried about fighting, shouldn’t she be at least a little more apprehensive about strolling up and starting chats with known criminals?

“Were any of the passersby interesting?”

“Hard to say. One of them was so drunk that he couldn’t understand a single word that came out of my mouth. I’m pretty sure the one that got him drunk was a lady that claimed she was starting a tavern, but I’m also pretty sure she was drunk too.”

Arwin snorted. “I’d agree with your assessment there. Nobody is starting a tavern where there’s literally no one around to sell to that isn’t going to just try to rob you. Who else?”

“Just a few thieves and cutthroats. I let them know to stay away from the smithy if they knew what was good for them.”

Arwin tilted his head to the side. Threats didn’t usually go well if you didn’t have the strength to back them up, and Reya had yet to give him any reason to believe that she did. “I see. And how did that go?”

“Not great, until I told them to go look in the ditch where you tossed the Brothers.”

“You found that? I thought I buried them well enough.”

Reya stared at Arwin, a grin starting to cross her face but fading quickly when she realized he wasn’t joking. She cleared her throat, then nodded. “Uh… yeah. Really well buried. The, uh, wind kind of just… unveiled them. It isn’t your fault, though. It happens all the time.”

“You don’t have to butter me up,” Arwin said, rolling his eyes. “They clearly weren’t buried quite enough. No matter. It sounds like that turned out to be useful. Is there anything else I should know?”

“Aside from the street being haunted?”

“The street seems fine to me,” Arwin said. “The only people haunting it are the idiots that tried to kill me.”

Reya glanced over her shoulder, then rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah. It’s… considerably less terrifying than I thought it would be. Maybe all the rumors of it being cursed were fake, or maybe the ghost left after scaring everyone off.”

“Whatever the reason, I’m glad for it. It made someone leave behind a whole smithy, even if it’s in horrid condition,” Arwin said. “No other problems, then?”

Reya’s stomach grumbled. Loudly. Her cheeks reddened and she hurriedly shook her head. “No. Nothing at all. That’s it.”

Arwin let a small smile cross his features. Even though he’d only known her for a short while, the girl was starting to grow on him. She reminded him of Blake. An image of his former friend’s glassy, dead eyes staring up at Arwin flashed through his mind.

The smile that had been forming cracked like a dropped pane of glass. He couldn’t remember what the man – little more than a boy when he’d died – even looked like anymore. Blake had been one of the earliest people he’d made friends with in this world, and he’d been one of the earliest to die.

Arwin shook his head and took the dagger, tossing it to Reya. Her eyes widened and she snagged it by the handle before it could hit the ground.

“What’s this?”

“If you’re going to go around threatening people, you should have something that lets you back it up,” Arwin said. The dagger had an interesting effect, but he wasn’t about to go around stabbing people to see how well it worked. Besides, its make was still a little shoddy. It was a far cry from the beautiful weaponry and armor that he envisioned himself making in the future. “I’d suggest finding a way to conceal it, though. I’d be embarrassed if people thought I was going around selling sub-par equipment.”

Reya stared at the dagger in disbelief. “And… I can have it?”

“Just make sure to put it to use on people that actually deserve it,” Arwin said with a wave of his hand. “And tell me how fast it grows, if you would.”

Reya’s hand snapped up to her head in a salute. “Yes, sir!”

“Stop calling me sir,” Arwin grumbled. “I’m twenty-five.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Commander?”

“Just call me Arwin,” Arwin said, massaging his forehead. “And let’s go back to Rule 1.”

“Rule 1?”

“Don’t bother me,” Arwin said, turning back to his forge. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small bag of coins he’d collected, tossing it to Reya. “Go see if you can get dinner. Eat, then bring me back whatever is left. I’ll be here.”

Reya swallowed, nearly giving him another salute before she stopped herself and settled for a nod. She darted out of the crumbling smithy and Arwin turned back to his forge, his fingers twitching in excitement.

There was still much to do, and he wasn’t even slightly tired.