“Oi, laddie!”
The messenger’s voice was barely audible over the clanging of metal. As a result, none of the men looked up from their anvils. Frustrated, he was left with no choice but to enter the large smithy.
One by one, he passed by each of the roughly a dozen apprentices. They worked in pairs, a Metal Mage to work the steel and a Fire Mage to work the forge. Smithing pairs, they were called. Each and every one of them was a dwarf with an exceptional affinity. Otherwise, they would never have been allowed to pick up the hammer.
At least, that was true about the first few pairs the messenger passed. At the last anvil in the forge stood a solitary man. However, not having a partner was the least odd thing about him.
For one, he towered over everyone else by at least two heads, being the only human in sight. Even more eye-catching was that he controlled neither fire nor metal. Instead, his anvil was bathed in pervasive darkness that seemed to consume the light.
The messenger chuckled at the sight. It wasn’t too rare for humans to come to their city to curry favor or learn their famed smithing techniques, but it was the first time he had ever seen a Darkness Mage trying to do the same.
Fire Mages? Sure, they had plenty. Metal Mages? Always in demand. But Darkness? No way. Honestly, it might be the least suitable Magic affinity for the task. However, against the odds, the man had managed to make it work. From his initial clumsy attempts, unable to even heat a forge, he had somehow transformed into a passable blacksmith in the months since his arrival in the city.
The messenger couldn't help but chuckle at the striking difference. Initially, the man had appeared impeccably dressed in a suit and tie. Now, seeing him hunched over the anvil, the transformation was remarkable. His once neatly groomed hair now tousled, his clean-shaven face adorned with stubble, and his once rigid posture now relaxed.
“Oi, laddie!” the messenger repeated after arriving next to the human, impatiently staring up at him. Even so, the human didn’t seem to hear him. “DAVID!”
The messenger waited for David to set his hammer aside. He wasn’t annoyed by the human’s attitude. Such behavior was typical among smiths, who prioritized the quality of their work over any minor interruption or disturbance.
"What is it?" David inquired, his deep voice coming out slightly hoarse. Yet, this was likely not from overuse but from not using it at all. It reminded the messenger of a creaky door that had not been oiled in a long time. Many of the smiths suffered from this quirk. Some of them went for months without speaking, at least the ones that were any good.
“There’s a letter for ya,” the messenger said, holding out an ornate piece of parchment.
David raised a brow, making no move to take the proffered letter. Instead, he threw his burned-out cigar into a metal container and took a new one out of the opened box on a nearby chair. “I can’t imagine you’d disturb me just for that?”
“Normally, you’d be right, laddie,” the messenger admitted. “However, it’s from that Ezekiel fella. Said you’d want to be notified if a letter came?”
The moment the messenger said that name, David’s hand shook, almost burning his face while trying to light the new cigar. Before the man could even ask if he was okay, David had already snatched the letter from his hands.
“Thank you,” David said while continuing to stare at the messenger. The man nodded and turned. This was a clear dismissal, and he wasn’t tactless enough to pry into another man’s business.
The moment the messenger left, David ripped open the letter and started to read what his young lord had written.
David chuckled softly. If only his young lord knew just how accurate this was. David had dedicated countless days and nights, week after week, toiling over the forge, all in pursuit of the opportunity to secure his current position. Despite the arduous journey, knowing that his young lord appreciated the hardships he endured brought a sense of validation.
David's smile froze on his face. He reread the passage over and over again. However, the content didn’t change. He was going to… leave?
After everything he had done to raise his standing, he was just going to leave? After all the pain and sweat to get to his current position? Just when he was about to make those important connections? David continued reading.
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David still wasn’t happy with this new assignment, but at least the words were pleasant to the ear. After all, who didn’t like to hear that they were the person their lord trusted most? Now, it was time to find out what kind of trouble his young lord had gotten himself into.
Most likely, he had angered some noble brat and needed David to teach them a lesson. The image managed to draw a weak chuckle from him. His young lord always got in trouble with those kind of people. He continued to read.
The ominous statement immediately drew David's attention, and he flicked to the report at the end of the letter. He quickly scanned the map before skimming the report. At first, he was composed, but all too soon, his face paled. Shadow Elementals? An uncountable number of them? Each with the strength of a Grand Mage?
With trembling fingers and wide eyes, David returned his attention back to the first page.
“Fuck!”
This time, David couldn’t keep himself from cursing. It was so loud that the pair next to him shot him annoyed glares. David looked at them apologetically before continuing to read.
David let out a puff of smoke, expelling his tension alongside the white cloud. This wasn’t as bad as he had expected. Managing people was what he was good at, after all. If it was dealing with merchants, then he could do it. He took another deep drag of his cigar, enjoying the cleansing effect of the herbs the dwarfs preferred.
David stared blankly at the page, his eyes swimming. Moments ago, he had been so proud about securing a position as an apprentice, but what about his young lord? Ezekiel had annexed a country's underworld while maintaining a stranglehold on its economy. And what did his young lord mean by mentioning the fate of the last two Archmages? What had his young lord done to them to instill fear in the wealthiest family in the country, rendering them unwilling to resort to force?
For some reason, a feeling of utter defeat washed over him. Numbly, he continued to read.
Slowly, David lowered the letter.
For a moment, he stared at the cigar in his hands before resolutely throwing it into the same box in the corner of the room, his eyes blazing with determination. He didn’t have any time to waste. His young lord was growing by leaps and bounds, and people were flocking to him in droves. If David wanted to retain his place as the young lord’s right-hand man, he would have to grow as well.
His shadow tendrils stopped pumping the forge's bellows, and David made his way toward the smithy's exit, placing the blade he had been working on in the rest-metal bin on his way out. There was much to do before he could leave for Korrovan. However, his eyes were no longer dull or defeated. Instead, a new purpose could be seen within them.
He was prepared to take on this new challenge.