Irwin almost stumbled as he registered what Hutch had said.

A muted shout of joy came from the side, and he looked up to see the much sturdier Sebastian grin at him. Because of his afternoon smithing, he'd not really mingled a lot with the other youths, but he'd heard that Sebastian was always hitting harder than he should. Most of the others preferred not tangling with him.

You are kidding me, Irwin thought.

"Move!"

Hutch's shout made him flinch, and he slowly moved towards the shelf lined with Grappling Gauntlets. He'd worn them one day during a simple introduction in the morning, but the rest of the training had been in the afternoon. He remembered Hutch had been annoyed when he left, though, at that point, he'd been so tired he'd barely noticed. Was this some form of punishment?

Irwin took a pair that looked like all the others and put them on. As he walked back, he looked at the thick leather gauntlets with wooden plates on the back to block bladed training weapons and narrower strips on the palm area.

Why do they even call them Grappling Gauntlets? He thought as he made his way to the center of the training area.

Daubutim was looking at him, a tiny bit of worry in his eyes, while the other youths seemed mostly relieved they didn't have to spar with Sebastian.

"Alright," Hutch said, turning to Irwin. "I remember you didn't have the time to stay for the full introduction of the gloves, so I'll give you a bit of information now. Normally these gloves are used to battle demons with weapons, and they are the choice weapon for an assortment of portal types, especially Nyzir."

Irwin shrugged when Hutch stared at him intently.

"You don't know them, alright. They are demons that roam the portal worlds without light and have sharp spikes on their hands and parts of their body. Due to the darkness and the narrow passages they live in, it's hard swinging anything but a dagger around. In there, you will need to wear these gauntlets constantly! Now! Good luck, and don't worry about injuries! Lilinethe will heal them for you," Hutch said as he backed up.

A grunt came from the woman behind him.

"Let's see what our little blacksmith can do," Sebastian drawled as he stalked forward.

Irwin began circling in the same direction as the larger boy. His heart rate rose and sweat beaded on his forehead while he tried to recall what Hutch had shown him days ago. He kept an eye on Sebastian, who was inching closer and bobbing and weaving oddly. Hutch had said something about slapping but not punching. Grabbing and backhand-

A Gauntleted fist seemed to materialize in front of his head, and he flinched, dropping his head and raising his shoulders. His raised hands were too late, and his head snapped to the side as a painful stinging came from his cheek. He mechanically punched outward and felt his fist connect. A surprised grunt came from Sebastian, who had danced inside, struck him but hadn't withdrawn. Irwin had no idea why not, but he dashed forward, swinging with his left to try and swat the other on the head.

--

Daubutim gritted his teeth as he watched Irwin, Orwin, he corrected himself, trying to strike the faster noble. Sebastian was obviously toying with him, moving slowly, baiting him to strike, then punching him in the gut or face.

Sebastian had only gotten hit once when he had expected Orwin to get knocked out from his first surprise punch, and Orwin had simply stood his ground and struck back. Even Daubutim had been surprised at that, even though he knew of Orwin's cards.

The thudding continued, Orwin's face slowly turning more bruised while surprised mutterings came from around them. Most hadn't sparred with his friend, but a quick look at Pytin's showed a knowing grin on his rival's face. The lanky, fast noble was the only one who might have a clue about how tough the small, skinny boy was.

Not that skinny anymore, Daubutim thought as he watched Irwin bunch his shoulders, muscles in his neck popping out.

He flinched when his friend threw a slow haymaker which was easily dodged. I need to practice with him!

A few minutes in, Irwin was moving sluggishly, but so was Sebastian. His face was contorted in a weary fury as he pounded Irwin each chance he got.

Daubutim was about to call out for Hutch to stop the fight when Sebastian stumbled when he backed away. Irwin, slow as he was, managed to bridge the gap and grabbed the other boy in a bear hug. A surprised yelp came as Sebastian tried to struggle free. The struggling caused them to lose balance, and they thudded onto the ground, Irwin atop Sebastian. A cry of pain followed a loud snap, then a panicky struggle ensued.

"Enough," Hutch shouted, running forward and followed by Lilinethe.

Daubutim ran forward just as Hutch pulled Irwin from the other boy. Coiled muscles appeared on Hutch's arms, and Daubutim heard him grunt with effort. The guard threw a confused look at Irwin before pushing the weary boy to the side.

Sebastian was holding his arm, which stood at an odd angle, cursing under his breath as Lilinethe moved to help him.

"Alright. That'll be all for now," she snapped, glaring at Hutch, who opened his mouth. "No! First, you let the poor boy get beaten to a pulp, and look at what happened to this one. Enough."

Hutch was quiet for a while, then sighed. "Lilinethe. They need to be ready for the portals! We are not sorcerers to send them in unprepared, but you know how bad it is out there. We've lost two groups of common-handed, and all of the other groups are going in with too few people."

Lilinethe glared at the guard for a while longer as she was holding her hands above Sebastian's arm. After a few moments, a glow came from it, and it snapped back to its normal position electing another grunt of pain from Sebastian.

"Fine," she finally said with a weary sigh. "But not today. I need time to heal these two, and if this happens again-"

"It won't happen again," Hutch said before turning to Irwin.

"Orwin, you did good, better than I expected. Your cards are perfect for Grappling Gauntlets. Starting tomorrow, you will be practicing with Dess. Now, let Lilinethe inspect you, then you can go and rest.

Daubutim saw Irwin nod, swaying on his feet. One of his eyes was so puffy he could probably see nothing through it, but all in all, Daubutim was surprised he was even standing. He wasn't sure he would be.

As Lilinethe finished with Sebastian, Hutch had some other boys fight, but this time he stopped the fight as soon as two solid hits landed.

Why did he let Orwin fight for such a long time? Daubutim thought, trying to understand what was going on. None of the things his father had taught him made it make sense.

When Lilinethe walked away from Irwin, he saw his friend's face was mostly normal again, though some faint bruising remained. He returned Irwin's wave and watched the boy shuffle away to the exit.

I hope learning the smithing will help as much as he thinks, Daubutim thought as he turned his focus back on the fighting.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

--

Bloody bastard, Irwin thought.

He glared at the ground, picturing Sebastian's face as he grinned and kept hitting him. Even after being healed, his face felt like it had been scrubbed by rocks. Clenching his hands as he continued towards the smithy, he decided he was going to try combining his cards that evening.

"Bloody speed," he muttered as he kicked away some of the snow. The cold wind biting on his face wasn't making him feel much better either.

When he entered the smithy, the heat from the furnaces was like a warm balsam on his skin, and he quickly got rid of the coat and the jerkin below. It was mostly keeping the heat away instead of helping him stay warm in this place. Putting the leather tabard on, he heard footsteps behind him, and he turned to see Trimdir walk his way. The smith's dark eyes scanned his face quickly.

"I was hoping you'd come early today, but I hadn't expected it would mean you had to fight the guards to get free," he grunted, beckoning him to his office. "At least tell me they didn't get away harm free?"

Irwin fell in line with the larger, heavily muscled smith. "It was another challenge today."

"Ah, and you had to fight all the other lordlings all at once?"

Irwin stifled a laugh at the image of him having to fight Daubutim.

"No, just someone who is faster, stronger, and taller than me," he said.

"Yes, well, one of those problems will be remedied soon if you keep working here," Trimdir said seriously. He clenched his fist, and muscles rippled across his arms and shoulders like snakes.

"That will take months," Irwin said as he looked away.

"Two at most, and you aren't in a rush, are you?" Trimdir said as he motioned Irwin to sit on a chair.

"No, I guess not," Irwin said. The smith was only half right. He was in a rush, just not to become stronger and taller.

Trimdir sat down and stared at Irwin for a few moments, and slowly he became uncomfortable.

"So, let's begin with Degnin Iron. What can you tell me about it?"

Irwin took a deep breath, forcing the recent fight out of his mind and focusing on the question. Trimdir seemed to like him well enough, but he knew the man had little patience.

"It is heavy compared to some of the alloys made with it, brittle, and gets darker if you polish it for a while," he began, trying to recall all the things he'd noticed about the metal. He continued rattling off what he knew, from smell, texture, and tensile strength, all things Olger and the other smiths had told him at the moments he brought them metal bars.

"Alright, and with all those drawbacks, why do we use it so much in alloys?" Trimdir said.

Irwin thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Nobody told me," he said.

"Guess."

Irwin licked his lips, noting no anger or annoyance on Trimdir's face. It seemed a genuine question.

"There seems to be a lot of it, so maybe that's the reason?" he finally said.

"That is partially true," Trimdir said. "The other reason is that parts of the iron meld well with other metals and compounds making it comparatively light and bendable. Most of all, it's easy to work with and cheap."

Irwin nodded. That made sense.

Trimdir nodded a bit, asking him a few more questions about the other metals he had carried. He knew far less of those, mostly because he hadn't handled a lot of it. As the questions continued, he suddenly began feeling worried. So far, he'd imagined this to be no more than a technicality, but as Trimdir grilled him on details, he wondered if he had been wrong. What if Trimdir told him to leave? He knew there were two more smiths in Degonda, but would they even let him work there if Trimdir had kicked him out?

After a few questions about Paldyrin Iron, something he'd never heard of before, Trimdir nodded. "Alright, you pass."

Irwin let out a ragged breath and couldn't help a smile from popping up on his face.

"Now, that means from now on, you are going to work with me on purifying Degnin Iron in the afternoon. I also expect you to read a few of the books here," he said as he waved his hand about.

Irwin tensed, his eyes widening as he licked his lips. Trimdir frowned, lowering his hand and staring at him.

"What?" he said.

Irwin stared at the books, then at the smith, then at his hands, not sure how he would answer that. All nobles he knew could read!

"Orwin?"

"I can't read," Irwin muttered, staring at his hands.

There was no answer, and he looked up, worried the smith would be angry. Instead, Trimdir was grinning.

"I thought as much. I guess Olger owes me a free day of labor!"

"You knew?" Irwin asked, staring at the smith in surprise. If he knew, why had he asked?

"Yes, I saw you ignore all the signs in the storage area, always asking what was where while the names were perfectly visible."

He began nodding, then got up and moved to one of the shelves, taking a small booklet from it. "You might think that is a problem, and it is if you can't learn, which I think you can. Most of the common folk prospects that come to me to learn can't read," Trimdir said as he handed Irwin the book.

"I expect you to learn three pages each evening," he said as Irwin opened the book. There were pictures and words on the first page. An image of a hammer had six letters next to it, and Irwin saw an Anvil with different letters, a few of which were the same as in the first word.

This is how you learn to read? he thought as he traced one of the letters, mouthing the letter h.

"Seeing as you got beat up today and need to read that tonight, you can leave after you've brought every smith a single load of ore," Trimdir said, staring at him intently. "Make sure you learn these words because I expect you to finish that book by the month. I will teach you the first part of purifying tomorrow."

Irwin nodded, unable to keep his eyes from the book. He'd seen books before, but never one that was this simple and had pictures.

"Good, now leave it here and pick it up when you are done. Make sure you don't dirty it," Trimdir said as he got up.

Irwin did as asked, and the rest of the afternoon passed quickly as the prospect of some time for himself loomed ahead. As the heavy bars passed through his hands, the heat of the forges seeped into his bones and the heavy thudding of the hammers continued around him, his angry mood from the battle dispersed. Slowly, his anticipation at trying to combine his cards began making him anxious to finish and leave.

When he finally dropped a set of a dozen bars beside one of the female smiths, a young woman of his height but probably twice as heavy, he was weary but not overly so and ready to leave.

"Thanks, Orwin! I hear you got the rest of the day off. Make sure to take a bath," Lamia said in her surprisingly gentle, pleasant voice.

Irwin blinked stupidly, wondering why he had to go to a bath. He had one a few days ago, and though the prospect was enticing, he had other things to do.

Lamia's grin widened as she grabbed one of the metal bars he'd brought her.

"You smell, lordling," she said as she sniffed.

Irwin almost retorted that she smelled worse than he did, barely managing to hold his tongue.

"I'll see if I can make some time," he said, wondering if he should.

"Good, make sure you do!" she said, winking at him.

Irwin nodded stupidly, and as he walked away, he took a look over his shoulder. Lamia was hammering the ore with a wide smile on her face.

What was that about? He thought. Did she fancy him? That couldn't be it. She was at least three years older and probably strong enough to bend him like the iron handle she was making.

Still pondering about the odd encounter, he moved into the office, took the book, and headed to the exit. Nobody paid him any attention, and he saw Olger showing Brent something at one of the smaller anvils. Trimdir was nowhere in sight, and with a wave to nobody in particular, he left the smithy far happier than when he'd entered it.

The cold wind that blew his now shoulder-long hair back made him shiver but he couldn't wipe away the smile. It was still light outside, and as he wandered through the city back to the central keep, he saw there were even more people. Smoky air from the campfires was everywhere, and small groups of young children were playing near them. If he didn't know of the danger right outside the gates, he'd almost think it was a happy time.

When he pulled open the door to his and Daubutim's room, he was chewing on some dried meat that he'd grabbed from the kitchen at the bottom floor. Finishing the last bit, he put the book on the table.

So… what first? He thought as he stared at the book. Read or combine? A grin widened on his face as he knew the answer.

"Ambraz," he whispered, pulling open the side of his coat. There was a soft rustle, and the Anvil flew out.

"Finally! Do you have any idea how stuffy it gets in there?" Ambraz hissed as he flew around before landing on the table.

"Ambraz, I want to create my full-hand," Irwin said as he put his hand on the table.

"Are you sure?" the Anvil asked.

Irwin blinked in surprise. "I need to get stronger," he said. "And faster."

"Yes, but if you lock them into your full-hand, you can't reforge them anymore," Ambraz said.

Irwin stared at the Anvil as he recalled what it had told him what seemed like ages ago. As he remembered, he sank back, his joy and happiness wiped away.

"But.." he muttered before sighing and shaking his head.

"Don't act like a kicked puppy," Ambraz snapped as he hovered up and closed in on him. "It's not that bad! You have two cards that increase your physique, and you have a lot of growth left!"

Irwin sighed as he put his arms on the table. He recalled how long it would take to learn to reforge his cards to legendary. Far too long. But I don't need them all to be legendary, do I?

"How much time would it take me to reforge uncommon cards to rare?" he asked as he looked up.

"It depends. I still haven't seen you do any purifying," Ambraz said. "Worst case would be many years."

"And the best case?" Irwin asked.

"The best prospects can learn it within months."

Irwin sighed and pulled the book closer. "You wouldn't be able to help me learn to read faster, would you?" he asked as he opened the book to the first page.

The Anvil hovered over his shoulder before snorting.

"What? This simple script? I can read thirty-six languages. It'll be a piece of cake," Ambraz snapped.

"Good, let's begin then," Irwin said.