The Legend of the Meta-Defying Smith Who Saved the Kingdom

That morning, James had strong reservations about going to the Smithing Guild. Even escorted there and back, he didn't know anyone there, and something could happen.

He had already gotten kidnapped once; and he'd die before he was enslaved again.

Even though, as a retainer, his Lord had explained that James was entitled to protection, it seemed there were limits.

He didn't like the look in the Steward's eyes.

The man was highly strung at pretty much all times, from the moment he had met him during his trial in Corto, all throughout the journey to the Capital, to now. And when James had tried to insist that it was a bad idea to go out alone, there had been a moment when the man snapped, lost some of his self-control. Just a moment, and the Steward had restrained himself, but now James had more to worry about.

After all, he was valuable and indentured to the Knight, not this other man.

James had slept poorly the previous night. The sounds of the smithies halted at sunset, and the room was a perfectly comfortable temperature. The bed was fine, not lumpy or smelly or anything. In almost all ways, it handily surpassed sleeping in the dungeon.

There were no wards.

The lock on the door was a flimsy thing, the bolt narrow enough that James suspected he could break it with his bare hands. And the door itself wouldn't stand up to a single [Hammer Strike].

Although, he wondered. Would the ward that he knew block people? Or was it just monsters? It had been a copy of the ward the slavers had used, which allowed anyone to pass. Only when a slave wearing the slave shackles had crossed the boundary had it alarmed with a light and a loud noise…

It was while he was thinking about that enchantment that he finally fell asleep.

The crash of metal on metal woke him, the moment the light of dawn reached the spire atop the Royal Castle, the highest point in the city.

Quickly, he went to the dining hall and ate breakfast. The Cook behind the line had eyed him suspiciously, but when James gave his name he relaxed and smiled. The Squires had let him know about James moving in this morning. He ate a fast breakfast of eggs and sausage, with unusual and heavy spices, though not unpleasant; and again, stuffed a couple bread rolls in his pocket.

He returned to his room and waited for the Steward. When the man arrived, he seemed just as high strung as always, but he had raised his eyebrows just the tiniest bit upon seeing James ready to leave immediately.

They departed, walking briskly down the street from the Knights Order to the main street, the sides lined with tall buildings, all with little balconies with wrought iron balustrades.

On the main street the upper floors of the buildings remained the same, at least from the outside. But at street level, there was nothing but shops, some open to the air, with wares spilling out onto the sidewalk on small tables and carts, others with incredibly large, incredibly clear glass allowing passersby to look at the treasures within without any of those treasures mysteriously disappearing. A quick glance up the street, towards the castle, revealed more and more such stores, many with guards standing next to the entrance, keeping an eye on the passersby.

They, instead, turned and proceeded downhill, the upscale stores being replaced by cafes and small restaurants, though the restaurants remained closed this early in the morning.

In no time at all, they had arrived at a large stone building, three stories tall with no apparent roof, from behind which came the familiar sound of crashing metal and men and women shouting at each other.

"This is the Smithing Guild. Go on. I have much to do today." The Steward looked down at James.

James clenched his fists, swallowed thickly, and nodded.

He strode forward more confidently than he felt, relying heavily on his Dexterity to move smoothly. The doors of the building were solid steel, but they swung open silently at his lightest touch, impossibly smooth on their hinges. The room inside was brightly lit by lanterns, revealing stone floors covered in a stubborn layer of soot that everyone must have given up on removing. The ceiling was wood reinforced with steel, and actually…

James narrowed his eyes.

There was some kind of enchantment on the steel bars. But what kind he couldn't tell from where he stood.

Smoothly, he stepped forward out of the doorway and checked the walls. No monsters that he could see. His hand drifted down to where the magic bag used to sit at his hip, and passed through empty air.

"Welcome!" a young girl's voice called out.

The greeting pulled James out of the Dungeon, out of his reverie, and he looked up.

Before him was a long standing table, with multiple areas for receptionists, though only two were occupied at the moment. At one, a man, clearly a Smith judging by the apron and toolbelt, was discussing something with a client. At the other, a young girl, clearly not yet having reached her Choosing Day, was smiling somewhat professionally at James.

He walked forward. "Uh, hi."

"Hi!"

"Do, uh, is this… I mean… do you work here?"

"Yeah! I'm Marlie! What can I help you with? Do you want to commission something? Or picking up a finished commission?" The girl looked to be eleven, maybe twelve, as old as Sarah had been the last time James had seen his sister. She had fiery red hair tied in a ponytail, pale skin, and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She smiled with brilliantly white teeth, and was wearing a sky-blue dress.

She was also clearly standing on a stool to see over the table and deal with customers.

James wondered if this was normal, but decided to roll with it. Perhaps it was normal, here in Iberteria.

He cleared his throat. "Ahem, uh, yes, my name is James, nice to meet you, Marlie."

"Nice to meet you! How can I help you?"

"Well, you see, I'm a Smith, and—"

"Oh, do you want to register with the Guild?"

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James paused. "...Maybe? The main thing I'm looking for is training."

Marlie looked him up and down with a critical eye.

"You look a little old to be freshly Classed, James."

"That's right, it's been about two years since my Choosing Day."

"Hmm…" the little girl narrowed her eyes. "You never apprenticed with anybody?"

"I did, but, uh, some stuff happened, and I had to stop after about a week."

Her eyes narrowed further. "Yer not one o' them refugees, are ya? Ya don't look like yer from aroun' here." Her previously perfect diction had lapsed into something a lot rougher.

James frowned. "Uh, no, not a refugee. But I am new to town. I'm, uh, a retainer to a Knight, Knight Suero Cortez, he transferred here yesterday."

Marlie's expression relaxed, but then she frowned. "Uh, hang on."

She hopped down from her stool and left James there while she skipped to a door behind the desk, closing it behind her. Soon enough she came back and climbed back on the stool.

"Okay! We like Knight Cortez here! We can do training sessions, depending on whose schedule is open and what training you need. But you get a discount if you join the Guild. Do you want to do that?"

James had been relieved that someone here was a friend of the Knight's. The odds of anything bad happening had just drastically reduced. He looked across the table at the smiling young girl.

"Maybe…"

"Well, there are a couple restrictions. Does Knight Cortez have first right of refusal on anything you create?"

James eyebrows shot up. "Actually, yeah, how'd you know?"

Marlie was startled in turn. "Wait, really?" She looked down at a paper on the desk in front of her. "Uhh…"

She looked back up with a sad expression. "Uh, sorry, then I don't think you can join the Guild. It's one of the red lines…"

James frowned. "Does this mean I can't get training?"

Marlie brightened. "No, you can still get training, just not the discount. What kind of training did you want?"

"Probably the basics. From the ground up."

"Really? What's your [Forging] level at?"

"Five."

"Five's not bad, though. You still want the basic training…?"

"Er, yeah."

"Okay, then… Well, the basic training is five cents per session, which includes the use of training tools and materials, and usually people take five sessions to complete the full course. It runs from right after lunch until dusk. Payment up front for outsiders, I mean, people who aren't members of the Guild."

James tilted his head. "Five cents?"

"That's the price, take it or leave it," Marlie replied professionally.

"Uh, no, I mean, I don't have any money…"

Marlie frowned.

"Well go get some from Knight Cortez, then."

James hesitated. His mother's wisdom rang in his ears. Her warning to never carry money or anything of value on him, since he could get mugged and not be able to defend himself.

He considered asking the Steward to handle the money for him, and quickly thought better of it. He could already imagine how the man would react.

"Uh, maybe you could send him a bill…?"

Marlie's expression tightened, and her eyes narrowed to slits.

"Oi, are you really Knight Cortez's retainer…?" She leaned forward over the desk and put her arm down aggressively.

If she had been a forty year old bear of a man like Jared, rather than a twelve year old girl, it would have been really imposing.

"Yes, well, about that…"

James was floundering, trying to think how to explain why he couldn't carry money, when he was saved by a commotion from the back.

"Hey, Marlie!" a voice shouted.

Marlie threw her head over her shoulder.

"What is it? I'm busy!" she shouted back.

"Is Finny here? We just got that shipment of Red Iron Ore delivered, and we need him to smelt it!"

"No! He's out for the week!"

"What?! It's in the way, it can't sit here all week! We got more shipments coming in!"

"Have someone else do it, then!"

"Who? Ain't nobody else can handle the heat!"

Marlie heaved a huge sigh. "Figure it out, I'm busy!"

She turned back to James.

"Sorry about that, where were we?"

"Uh, how about a trade?" James offered.

"A trade?" Marlie tilted her head.

"Yeah, uh, there's a reason I can't just go get the money. How about if I do work around here, and you put the pay for that towards the training?"

This way, James would never have to touch the money himself, nor carry it around.

Marlie looked suspicious, however.

"You want to do work, but what can you do? Especially if you want the basic training…"

"Well, I've smelted Red Iron Ore before."

"Really?" Marlie said incredulously.

"Yeah, really."

"I'm callin' ya bluff," she lapsed back into the rough manner of speaking all Smiths seemed to have. "Ya know how hot it has to get to melt Red Iron?"

"Yeah, real hot." James nodded.

"We got a real beast of a smelter, ya know? Yer gonna have to get up nice and close with the heat."

"That's fine, I can do it."

Marlie rolled her eyes. "You'd need a [Heat Resistance] of at least six to even get close to the smelter while it's working Red Iron," she said bluntly.

"Mine's eight." James replied evenly.

She stared at him, eyes wide.

"Eight?!" Then she said something unprintable that no young girl should ever say.

"Marlie!" an older woman's voice rang through the Guildhall like a bell, immediately silencing everyone.
Marlie's face grew pale, making her freckles stand out all the more.

"Uh oh."

A tall woman with similarly fiery red hair, also pulled into a ponytail, burst through the door behind the desk. She was carrying a clipboard and had a thin wrapped stick of charcoal, for writing, behind her ear. She wore a thick leather apron over a dirty, sleeveless cloth shirt and long pants, and thick leather boots that had clearly seen better days.

"How many times have I told you to watch your mouth!" she shouted as she strode up to a stunned James and a trembling Marlie.

"B-but, Mama! He said he's got [Heat Resistance] at level eight!"

Suddenly, all eyes in the Guildhall were on James.

The woman crossed her arms, showing off rather impressive muscles. Then she looked James right in the eye and said the exact same thing Marlie had just said.