Another four and a half days passed in the private smithing booth when a thunderous roar of joy startled the few smiths in the adjacent rooms.

"Dammit, that kid is getting on my nerves," the gray-bearded man with a yellow metal cap on the end grunted.

"Come on, don't you remember how it was when you were still actually progressing?" a sweating man working the bellows asked with a grin. "Besides, they say that kid is close to becoming a Topaz rank smith! Can you imagine how much that will help the rest of us? If those big branches hear about it, we will get more funding and perhaps even rare cards and metals!"

"Yeah, yeah," the old man muttered.

All of them looked up as they heard running feet, then they saw Irwin sprint past their room, shouting something that sounded happy.

"Think he succeeded?" the third smith, who had been blinking and yawning as if he just woke up from a small nap.

"No, he has to piss," the old man grunted as he gazed at the card image hovering before him.

"Oh. Alright," the third smith said.

The other two to stared at him in quiet disbelief.

--

Irwin could barely keep himself from shouting again as he stood behind a dozen smiths waiting in line for Ichela.

"Calm down, Irwin," Ambraz said as he flitted around Irwin's head, sat down on his shoulder, then jumped back up and flitted around again.

"Yes, yes," Irwin exclaimed, holding the card in his hand, covered as if afraid someone would grab it.

"It's only in the eighty percent range. Nothing to get this excited about," Ambraz muttered as he landed on Irwin's shoulder again, fidgeting.

"You are absolutely sure?" Irwin asked, suddenly afraid Ambraz might have made a mistake.

"A chime is eighty percent or up! Unless you didn't hear it-"

"Chime! Definitely!" Irwin hissed as he nodded his head.

The smith ahead of him tossed him an amused look, which Irwin barely noticed. Instead, he gnashed his teeth as the line slowly whittled away in what seemed a deliberate attempt to bully him.

When the last smith finally got his payment and stepped away from the counter, Irwin jumped forward.

"So. Cutting it a bit close, aren't we?" Ichela said with a wide smile. "Still, I take it you succeeded?"

Irwin nodded as he felt his mouth go dry, and he handed over a yellow-bordered card depicting a bird. As he did, he realized he hadn't even bothered to look at what the card did. All he cared for now was that Ambraz was right. He still had half a day left, but if he really had to go again… this time had been a moment where all things just seemed to come together. He had no trust that he'd be able to replicate it again within another half a day, let alone do it better.

Ichela looked at the card with sparkling eyes.

"When I saw you run in here, I almost couldn't believe it," she said as she calmly placed the card on the thin soul gem before her.

Irwin held his breath.

"Topaz ranked card, reforged by Irwin. Quality, eighty-seven percent."

Ichela's eyes grew round while Irwin exhaled in relief.

"Above eighty-five percent in under a week… you have to tell me you were close to topaz ranked before you came here, or I'll feel horrible," she said, shaking her head.

"He wasn't even close... to halfway there yet," Ambraz said, landing beside the soul gem and letting a loud laugh.

Irwin felt a surge of pride at the stunned look on Ichela's face. Then he recalled the horrendous number of amethyst cards he'd had to spend to get there and shivered. If his mother heard about it, she would probably have something to say about it.

"Don't look so surprised. I didn't expect anything else from the smith I chose," Ambraz said, letting out a happy laugh.

Irwin and Ichela shared a grin before she began rummaging in another drawer. She returned with a yellow, almost golden ranking plate and handed it to Irwin, who immediately began taking off the hairband with his previous one.

"Now, instead of running to Tensor with the happy news, let me give you some advice," she said as he leaned over conspiratorially. "You must have noticed that Tensor is a stickler for tradition, and that-" she pointed at the hairband in his hand. "-is far from traditional."

Irwin opened his mouth, about to say he didn't have long enough hair to do what she had, nor a beard, but Ichela raised her hand, and he fell quiet.

"You're still a bit young to grow your own beard, I know. But hair? There's a hair salon I know that has a heart-carded barber who is able to make your hair grow long. I'd suggest going to the metal smithy outside, creating your own hair plaque." Ichela held out her own, a beautifully crafted, squarish golden box that clamped around the end of her thick braid. "Then go to Gustho's and have your hair done."

Irwin just stared at her stupidly. With all that was going on, this was supposed to be important? Besides, he'd barely seen his friends, instead sleeping in the smithy the last three nights.

"Just a suggestion," Ichela said. "You don't have to believe me."

"No, no. I'll go and do it right now," Irwin said as he dropped his amethyst rank plate before staring at it for a moment. He'd only had it for a short while, though longer than the first one. Would he have this one longer? A tiny bit of him hoped he wouldn't, but instead would keep progressing at his current pace. He knew that was incredibly unlikely, though.

Ichela told him how to find Gustho's barber shop, and a few moments later, he was outside, basking in the sun. He'd been inside for days, and who knew what tomorrow would be like? Taking a few deep breaths, he walked around the building to the large open smithing area.

--

A few hours later, and calmed down, he walked through the city, following Ichela's directions. He had a golden-colored metal cup in his hand with his new topaz rank plate worked-in beautifully. In the end, a few of the smiths, most of whom he hadn't even known the names of, had insisted on helping him, which mostly meant they had stood to the side telling him what he was doing wrong. Still, as he looked at the metal trinket, he knew it was only as good as it was due to their help.

Moving out of one of the narrow streets he'd taken to get here, he almost ran into a group of what looked like boulders with legs that came to his waist. Shouting an apology, he dodged around. Halfway through the packed street, he saw a shop front with enormous scissors hovering above a plate that vaguely reminded him of the soul gems he'd seen over the days. Each of the scissor's blades were as long as his legs, and as he walked closer, he gaped as the scissors made a snipping motion every few moments. Below was a beautifully gilded placard with 'Gustho' in gaudy writing.

How did they make that? Is it some kind of card skill? Irwin thought as he gazed at the scissors snipping closed again.

Reaching the door of the large establishment, two women with silvery eyes and long, well-maintained manes of hair walked out.

"-telling you, it's true! Four of them in a single night? That's not normal! It has to be some monster or barbarian from a farming world!"

"Ewww, I hope you are wrong," the younger one cried with a hand before her mouth. "Imagine walking around at night and being jumped by something! Horrible. I hope they find it and put it down soon."

Irwin slowly pushed open the door. Could they be talking about Uxin'tar? That seemed unlikely… the sorcerer didn't even have six cards yet, and he'd seen hundreds if not thousands of silver-eyed heart-carded guards here. Perhaps-

"Good sir! How lovely of you to choose Gustho's, the most beautiful salon in all of the Interconnected Portal Gallery! I can see your hair is in adamant need of some love and affection, and you have come to just the right place. Let me, Gustho, help you to look better than ever before!"

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Irwin looked at an insanely thin man dressed in a beautiful white and golden gown, with vibrant green skin and hair like the autumn trees walking towards him. His silver eyes shone brightly as he put his hand on Irwin's shoulder.

"Please follow me to a seat and tell me how I can be of assistance!"

Irwin nodded dumbly, startled by the man's energy. As he followed after him, he looked around and froze midstep. Three rows of chairs stood before as many mirrors that covered most of the left, back, and right of the shop. Dozens of people were softly chatting in the chairs, and behind them stood exact copies of Gustho. Even the clothing was identical.

"Your first time here? No worry," Gustho said, and Irwin felt a hand on his arm pulling him towards a chair.

Before he knew it, he was sitting while the man was placing a sheet around his upper body while at the same time smiling at him in the mirror. He barely noticed as he stared at the stranger in the mirror. The last time he'd seen himself, he had been a youth with a pale malnourished face, large hollow eyes, and thin bedraggled hair.

Now a young man that looked to be seventeen or eighteen looked back at him with clear, hazel eyes below thick dark coppery eyebrows set in a stern, darkly tanned face. An unkempt, uneven crop of unwashed hair sat above it, gleaming oddly, almost like metal. Except for the hair, it reminded him of a slightly sharper version of his brother's face but with larger eyes.

This is me? Irwin thought, blinking and seeing the mirror image blink back. Why did he look so much older? How much time had he been in those different portals? Glancing down, he saw the thick cables of muscles around his neck and thick shoulders below the thin, dirty white shirt.

"Now, what would you like?" Gustho asked, jogging him back to reality.

Irwin licked his lips, watching his mirror image do the same. He jerked his attention away from it and managed to poke his hands out from below the sheet.

"I would like my hair grown out and braided, then have this attached to the end," he said, holding up his golden-colored rank signifier.

"Oh my! Such an honor to host a newly minted Topaz smith," Gustho exclaimed, and there was a lull in the surrounding conversations. "Just leave it to me. I know exactly what to do!"

Gustho snatched his ranking emblem away and put it on the counter before the mirror while raising his hands and stroking his hair.

"Let's begin with growing this out a bit! It's already long, but for this, it will need just a bit more, yes?"

Irwin wanted to nod, then held back. "Yes?"

"Yes, yes! Oh, you have such nice and strong hair! Dare I ask, but do you have a metal-type card?"

Gustho's obvious enjoyment of his work was slowly starting to get to Irwin, and he smiled back.

"Yes, something with Coperion," he said.

"Ahhh, that explains both the color and the tensile strength!"

As Gustho spoke, he kept stroking Irwin's hair, and he watched as it grew longer and longer.

"So, what world are you from? I've never seen someone with your combination of complexion, height, and hair type," Gustho said.

Irwin hesitated before deciding as much as he liked Gustho's way of talking. That was probably something to keep to himself.

"Oh, nowhere special," he said. "Most of it is because of my card."

Gustho smiled and nodded and seemed more than willing to drop the subject.

"Yes, that happens to the best of us! So, have you been at Tensor's long?"

Irwin grinned, giving another evasive answer, which didn't deter Gustho in the slightest as he kept chatting along. Soon, when he realized Irwin wasn't interested in talking about himself, he began sharing dozens of odd rumors, ranging from which nobles were sleeping around with serfs to a new type of card-created item that allowed you to put temporary tattoos on your skin, which was the latest rage amongst teenagers.

Irwin quietly listened as he watched his hair go from his shoulders to the middle of his back in just under half an hour.

I wonder what this will cost, he thought. He had gotten some soulshard from Ichela, but he was now worrying if it was enough. She would have told me otherwise… right?

"So, time to wash it a bit," Gustho said as he stepped away, holding out Irwin's coppery hair, which was pulling on his scalp heavily.

Staring at it for a moment, Irwin decided he was going to grow a beard as soon as he could. The long hair and the feeling weren't at all what he liked. Perhaps he could cut it shorter after he reached the training world? Pushing the thoughts away, he watched as Gustho made a gesture with his hand, and a large sphere of blue and sparkly water appeared. The barber stuffed his hair in it.

"Would you look at that? Such beautiful hair!"

"I heard something about people going missing?" Irwin asked.

"Ah, yes! Horrible that," Gustho said without missing a beat. "It began four nights ago! Some poor serf was found without his hands and a hole in his head… horrible! I've heard about barbarians attempting to steal cards like this before, but for it to happen in our beautiful Fiverio? Horrible! I'm sure it has something to do with the unruly things that have happened at The Central Registry."

"Did you hear anything more about it?" Irwin asked. "Don't they have an idea who it is?"

"None yet, dear boy," Gustho said as he sighed melodramatically. "But don't worry. The Grinwron family has increased the nighttime guard numbers! Patrols are walking through the most populated areas all evening! Still, I would suggest you stay indoors after dark. Ah… so sad that all those serfs died."

Irwin swallowed as he thought of his friends. Someone would have told him if something had happened to Daubutim or Greldo, right?

As he stared into the mirror, Gustho continued to work and chatter away until, at some point, Irwin tuned it all out. He was staring at his hair, transforming into an intricate set of small copper braids at the top of his head that led down into a thick copper-colored braid at the bed. Finally, Gustho added the golden cap at the end.

"There we go! Perfect as only I can do! What do you think?" Gustho asked.

Irwin stared at himself. Now that his hair had been done, he truly realized how bad his clothes looked. If not for his smith's apron, which was of extremely good quality, he'd have looked like a bum.

He probably only helped me due to my smith rank emblem, Irwin thought, before recalling that he hadn't actually shown that until he had been sitting in the chair.

His worry about having enough soulshards was unfounded, though after spending five soulshards, half of what he had, he did feel slightly sick.

"Now, come back if you want something else or when your beard starts growing for real," Gustho said as he stretched out a hand and padded Irwin's cheek, pulling at some loose hairs.

Barely able to resist jerking back, Irwin nodded.

"Will do," he said.

"Then thank you for your patronage!" Gustho said before waving, smiling, and disappearing in a tiny cloud of golden particles.

Irwin gasped as he stared at where the man had just been standing. Looking around, he saw the dozens of copies still working diligently.

That has to be a heart-card, he thought. He'd never heard of any card that could duplicate an entire person. What if he trained with weapons? Wouldn't he be a one-man army?

Shivering at the thought of having to fight someone like that, Irwin turned around and took the quickest route back to Tensor's smithy.

--

"One more day… Do you think he will make it?" Greldo asked, lying on his bed and staring at Daubutim.

"There is no way to tell," the tall youth responded before frowning as the person sitting on the bed beside him let out a snort.

"He'd better," Indoutor said. "Otherwise, we are going to have to stay serfs for who knows how long. I prefer going back to our own world."

You only care for yourself, Daubutim thought coldly. Still, his cousin wasn't wrong. He, too, wanted nothing but to go back, though in his case, it was to see if his father made it back.

Greldo snorted. "Speak for yourself. If I can get Irwin to create three more cards based on what I need, I'll be able to join the second-rank underground tournament and make a fortune!"

"Or die at the hand of one of those silver-eyed bastards," Indoutor snapped back.

"Hah, unlikely," Greldo said. "They aren't allowed to join the hand-carded rank tournaments."

The door was shoved open, and Lamia rushed in.

"Ichela said he made it!" she shouted as she slammed the door shut behind her. Her left arm was strapped tightly against her torso, covered with a wide extra bit of leather that sat attached to her apron.

Greldo surged up. "That's fantastic! Where is he?"

Lamia stood in the center of the room, nearly hopping up and down in excitement. "Ichela said he went to get his hair done before going to tell Tensor.

"What?" Greldo snapped. "I told you, he shouldn't be left outside alone! You've heard about those missing serfs, and we all know Uxin'tar might be responsible for it!"

Lamia stared at him, pale. "I didn't see him before now," she muttered. "You know we aren't allowed in the private smithing area, and Balarn hasn't been around for days."

Daubutim got up before staring at his cousin. As much as he disliked the other's mentality, there was no denying his strength, and his father had always taught him to use the tools at his disposal.

"Let's go and see if we can find him."

Indoutor looked back, and for a moment, Daubutim thought his cousin was going to reject. Then he got up and cracked his neck.

"Do you even know where to look?" Greldo asked with a derisive snort.

"You said he was getting his hair done?" Daubutim asked Lamia. "Did Ichela say which one?"

Lamia was quiet, then shrugged. "I don't recall exactly. Something like Usto?"

"Gustho," Daubutim said as he headed for the door. "I know where it is and the fastest way to there from here. Let's go."

He heard a soft mutter from Greldo, which he ignored.

"Lamia, stay here for if Irwin comes back. Tell him not to leave the smithy again!"

"I will!"

The three youths rushed down the stairs, out of the smithy, and onto the streets, ignoring some surprised looks.

Let's hope Greldo is wrong, Daubutim thought.

--

A dark shadow moved high in the air, glowing yellow eyes staring down. Atop the bird stood a figure with his eyes closed.

"He finally headed outside," Uxin'tar grunted, his muddled eyes snapping open. He pulled a purple-bordered card from his pocket, stared at it then tossed it in front of the bird. A soft squeal was followed by a snap and crunching. "Hide from the watchers and bring me to that boy."

The bird squealed again, a deep rattling sound that didn't seem to echo but drowned out as it dove down.

As it dropped through a cloud, a trail formed, but it slowly dissipated.

--

Lamia couldn't sit still, instead pacing through the room. Ever since coming here, she'd barely seen Irwin. All she'd been doing was focusing on card reforging. She'd attempted to reforge a common card -quartz- a few days ago but had failed miserably.

I wonder who he is going to bring, she thought, recalling what Greldo had told her.

A knock came from the door, and then it flew open before she could move to it. Instead of Irwin, she saw Balarn looking around.

"Have you seen Irwin?" the gruff, bearded man asked, staring at her with his silver eyes.

"He went to Gustho's. Daubutim and the others are going to get-"

She stopped talking because Balarn had turned and sprinted out of the room, letting out a stream of curses.

"Yilda be damned that I'm staying here alone," she hissed, running after Balarn.

-

Irwin moved through the narrow street that he'd gone through on the way to Gustho's, his mind occupied by tomorrow. As he was at the halfway point, there was something that jogged him awake. A sound or a bit of movement, he didn't know, but he was suddenly fully awake as he looked around.

Had it always been this quiet?

A tiny breeze was all the warning he got, and he barely managed to trigger Coperion Body as three thin metal straws struck his neck and head.

"You keep surprising me with how fast you are," a horribly familiar voice muttered from above.

Irwin, heart racing, touched his face and was relieved to feel no blood or straws sticking out. Then he looked up at the man standing on the narrow balcony ten feet above him.

"Hult," he whispered.