Jiran stood just outside one of the ground-floor entrances to the academy, Professor Linden beside him. She had been kind enough to escort him outside after his exam.
Why is she just standing there with that far-off look in her eyes?
“Professor Linden, is everything alright?“
“Oh, Jiran. Yes, everything is just fine. Splendid, in fact. Please return to the academy on the third day of the new moon. You will be assigned a dorm and receive your uniforms at that time.
“If you have any specific questions, you may submit your requests at any of the general information desks at each ground floor entrance.”
She pointed to a nearby booth where a short line of his peers stood, waiting to have their questions answered.
“Thank you for taking care of me, Professor Linden. It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“Yes, a pleasure, Jiran,” She spoke his name for the first time, then vanished into a controlled storm of mana.
Well, now what do I do? I’ve got about two weeks before the new moon. Guess I’ll find a place to stay and check out the city library. I’ve got a couple of projects I want to work on as well. I need a map.
Jiran stood in line at the information desk until it was his turn. They had several maps of nearby parts of Cruex for sale. He promptly bought one and then asked the guy in the booth to circle three areas that had easy access to the facilities he needed.
After thanking him, Jiran oriented himself and headed out of the academy grounds and back into the city.
The day was swiftly coming to a close. Not wanting to look for an inn after dark, he jogged toward the nearest area that had been marked.
Smoke billowing into the air, and the cacophony of the booming industry, he knew he was in the right place. Rounding the corner of a nearby housing district, Jiran found exactly what he was looking for.
Several smithies lined one side of the street while smelters and shop fronts lined the other. He took a few minutes to inspect the smithies and smelters. After finding several vacant work areas that he could rent, Jiran made his way to a nearby inn.
The building was run-down and filthy. Black stains covered the outside walls from long exposure to the nearby forges. The stained sign hanging beside the wooden door read: Shapers Rest.
Jiran entered to find a small common room that was completely empty. A bell hanging on the door announced his arrival and the patter of tiny feet approached from deeper in the dark building.
Two twin balls of energy in the form of girls, around six seasons old, rounded the bend of a nearby hallway. Upon seeing him, they skidded to a halt and nearly tripped over each other.
They wore cute little blue and white dresses that looked too small for their rapidly growing frames. Purple ribbons offset their dirty blond hair and brown eyes.
The girl on the right spoke first. “Oh, you're not momma. What do you want? We’re not hiring right now and we don’t want to buy nuthin'.”
“Niila! You’re being rude. What can we help you with, Ser? Oh, my apologies. My name is Miila and this is my sister Niila.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I’m hoping to rent a room here, can either of you help me with that?”
“Is your head soft, mister? The hammers start before First Father and ring until after dark. Then, all the hardheads come in here to drink until their wives drag 'em home. It's noisy all day and night, so nobody sleeps here.”
“Niila, daddy is going to scold you again, please stop being rude to the customer!
“I’m sorry for my sister, please follow me and I’ll get you situated,” Miila said with a bow, her hand on the back of her sister's head forcing her to bow along with her.
“Is it just you that will be staying?” She continued, with hope in her eyes.
“Sorry to disappoint you, it’s just me.”
Miila led him to a counter near the unoccupied bar, reaching behind the counter she pulled out two keys.
“The regular rooms are eight silver, and the master is twelve,” She tilted her head and looked up at him cutely.
“I’ll take the master for two weeks.”
“Two weeks! Your head really is soft. Hey, we don’t do refunds, ya know.”
“Niila!” The little girl jumped and instinctively covered the top of her head with her hands.
The booming male voice that had shouted her name materialized into a tall portly man that walked out from a door behind the bar.
Niila wilted at the sight of the man, continuing to hold the top of her head.
“Oh, Daddy. I didn’t see you there.”
With a twinkle in his eyes, the man reached Niila and raised his fist above her head. The divine punishment descended toward her covered skull. Then in the last second changed to a flick aimed at her forehead that took her completely by surprise.
The child rocked backward like the blow had been delivered by a mighty beast. She fell on her rear and rolled on the floor, clutching her wound.
“I’m dying! Help Miila, he’s killed me again,” Jiran watched the drama unfold with a fond smile.
For the first time in several seasons, he missed home. Memories of wrestling with Niya and tickle fights with Micah flooded his mind.
“Enough nonsense, Niila you’re on dish duty for a week. Miila, please go prepare the master suite for our guest.”
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“Guah! The finishing blow, it’s all over for me now,” Niila cried as her sister dragged her down the hallway they had originally appeared from.
“Name’s Dandy, welcome to my home, Ser,” The man bowed politely and scooped Jiran’s money off of the counter. He handed Jiran the master key and placed the other behind the counter.
“The room comes with standard Tier three meals, three times a day, served any time. Just ask the kids or my wife and it’ll be brought to yah straight away.
“It gets a little rowdy here after dark but not a soul goes back there so you should be undisturbed,” He said while hooking his thumb toward the hallway.
“Your room is at the far end of the hall there. Any questions?”
“I plan to do a little smithing while I’m here, any suggestions for who would have a private forge I could use?” Jiran asked, giving extra emphasis to the word private.
“I’d ask old Krikk; his son set up an underground forge a few years back. As far I know, it’s not been in use since the boy left. His shop is at the far end of the street to the right, in the corner. Krikk’s Crackers is the name.”
“Thanks, Dandy. I’d love some dinner.”
“Sounds good, kid. I’ll go whip something up,” Dandy said while heading back through the door behind the bar.
Jiran waited for dinner at one of the surprisingly clean tables. Dandy brought him a rabbit stew with a loaf of fresh warm bread and a mug of ale.
Despite being only Tier three ingredients, the food was perfectly spiced and the ale complimented all of the flavors. Jiran finished the meal in record time. The last time he could remember eating so well was back in Samris’s manor.
With a satisfied belly, he made his way to the back of the hallway and entered his room.
It was spacious for an inn, with a double bed and two dressers. A single window with a wooden shade let in the fading light of the day.
Laying in the soft bed, Jiran mentally reviewed his day while feeding mana to his aura. The practice of expanding his aura by stuffing it with mana was a ritual he never missed.
It was impossible to expand the aura rapidly, only by feeding it a tiny bit more than the day before would it slowly grow in size and power.
Today was pretty fun. It’s so nice to be free of the agony of Red Density saturation. I think I’ll just try to enjoy myself for a while before making a push to the next tier.
I’m supposed to be making friends, allies for the army and all that. It’s been so long since I had a friend, where do I even start? I guess ignoring everyone like I did today isn’t a very good way to go about it.
Maybe I’ll spend some more time in the plaza and try to meet some people.
With a full aura and belly, Jiran dozed off. A short while later the ruckus coming from the commons woke him up. With a thought, he used his aura to dampen the sound waves and fell back asleep.
In a warm and comfortable bed, nestled in the silence and safety of his aura, Jiran slept better than he had in many moons.
Jiran woke up when a presence entered his aura from outside the inn. He quickly realized it was a simple worker heading to their forge.
Long periods spent in the wilds had trained him to wake up instantly, ready for battle when anything got too close to him. So he was now wide awake.
He hopped to his feet and stretched lightly before changing and heading out of his room. The bar was empty and quiet so he lightly stepped outside, making sure the bell on the door didn’t wake anyone.
Two men were passed out near the front door, snuggled together in a drunken heap.
Street lights giving off a soft glow illuminated the early morning darkness.
Jiran looked around for any signs of activity. Seeing none, he reinforced the ground under himself with his aura then leaped into the air with a mana-fuelled jump. He easily soared twenty meters into the air before landing on a layer of pressure.
He scanned the area until he found a secluded courtyard that looked unused.
Jiran formed another layer of pressure and then kicked off of it, hurtling himself toward the abandoned manor and its backyard.
The area was surrounded by a wall on three sides and a deserted manor to the north. With a mental command and a pulse of his mana, a flame leaped from his body in all directions consuming the wild grass.
The dark smoke was captured in his aura. He compressed it until it turned into a black bead which he pushed into the dirt.
Inside his freshly cleared area, Jiran began his morning exercises.
He started with molding. With the mana inside his body under tight control, he pushed against his muscles until it was impossible to move. After easing the forces pushing against his muscles ever-so-slightly and just enough that he could barely move using all of his strength, he began the routine.
Precision, balance, strength, and flexibility were required in perfect harmony as he moved from one pose to the next. The slightest twitch of a muscle at the wrong time was enough to send him crashing into the dirt. Twice he stumbled and fell as he moved through the brutal morning ritual.
An hour later, he was thoroughly soaked in sweat. Both his body and mind were exhausted from the effort.
Shaping water and then fire, he cleaned and dried himself before heading back to the industrial zone.
His first stop was Krikk's Crackers. He found the store easily enough. It was made of the usual bricks he had come to expect of Cruex architecture. The front door was open so he invited himself in.
The store’s interior was filled to the brim with hammers of all shapes and sizes. They lined every wall and filled multiple racks. The oldest-looking man Jiran had seen on Madra, stood in a corner. He wiped an oiled cloth over each hammer with a practiced hand.
“Prices are marked on each item, non-negotiable,” He grumbled, not looking up to see who had entered his store.
“Good morning, Elder,” Jiran said respectfully
“Dandy suggested you when I asked after a private forge I can rent for a couple weeks.”
The ancient man finally turned to regard Jiran. He was completely bald except for his bushy white eyebrows. His face had so many paper-thin wrinkles it was hard to tell if his eyes were even open.
With a grunt, the man approached Jiran and grabbed one of his hands. He flipped it over twice before giving off an even larger grunt and walking back to his rack of hammers.
“You ain’t got even a single callus on those dainty mits of yers. Whatcha want with my forge if you ain't going to use it right? A softhand like you’s more like to break it than make nuthin worth a fart.”
“You’re not wrong, Elder. I’ve never made a tool in my life. I mostly wanted a private place where I can try out a few ideas I have.
“How about a wager? If I can make a hammer that meets your approval, you let me rent your forge room.”
“Hah! I like your style, sonny. What’s innit fer me? Every wagers got a winner n’ a loser ya’know.”
“Hmm, I don’t have any raw materials to use. How about I pay you five times the rate for whatever materials I use to make the hammer?”
“Deal,” The old man didn’t hesitate even a moment, proving his mind was still sharp despite his ancient stature.
“C’mon.”
He turned and headed down a hall to a locked metal door. He unlocked the door and led Jiran down a flight of stairs. The old man raised a palm above his head which sprouted a small flame to light their way. The bottom of the stairs opened into a large reinforced earthen chamber.
Jiran could tell through his mana body that the walls were extremely sturdy.
Perfect, if I screw something up, I’m unlikely to hurt anyone other than myself.
The room housed a large pure metal forge, several anvils of various sizes, and plenty of smithing tools. Jiran wouldn’t have been able to name a single one besides the hammers and tongs. For the briefest of moments, he wondered what he had gotten himself into before excitement to learn something new cast his doubt aside.
“A’right, sonny. Show me whatcha got,” He spoke with a toothy grin, as he nodded in the direction of a stack of ingots.