XVII

Two days had passed since Wren started working at the smithy. He helped Marco at the forge, quenching hot metal, working the bellows, and running things around the shop. Lira worked the books, tracking orders, taking inventory and after just the first day, she had taken it upon herself to develop a more efficient sorting system. Wren would occasionally spot her around the shop and have to do a double take. Agret, the apothecary, had trimmed her hair a bit and dyed it a deep dark brown, almost black. His own reflection was equally surprising. His hair had been cut slightly shorter, and was now a much lighter shade, like the color of wheat. With their new looks, the Enclave said they were free to roam the city, although they should stick to this district for now. Wren was eager to get some real time out and about, but so far they've been kept busy. Marco had no shortage of work.

Wren was putting the bellows away after helping Marco, when the bell of the front door jingled. Wren turned and felt his chest tighten. Stepping into the shop, dressed in white leathers, was a Silverblood knight. Wren ducked behind the wall in the forge room, looking at Marco with wide eyes. Marco glanced curiously into the main room, then grinned when he saw the knight.

"Stay back here, but keep your ears open--you might learn a thing or two." Whispered the blacksmith, walking past him.

"Welcome back Tyrus!" Greeted Marco.

"Hello old friend. You've finished the sword?" Asked the knight.

Marco reached under the counter, revealing a gleaming longsword. Even from the back room, Wren could see the amazing quality of the blade. The light caught the metal, revealing a strange cross hatch pattern. Marco handed the weapon over.

"I've wrapped the hilt in fresh white leather, and the guard has the new etching you asked for."

Tyrus inspected the work, nodding happily. "Once again Marco, excellent work. Honestly, you should be working somewhere better than back in this little shop!"

"When my family left the Sun-Kissed Isles to start this shop," replied Marco. "They wanted to provide the common man with high quality work and reasonable cost. If I relocate to the compound or deeper into the city, that wouldn't be possible."

Tyrus looked at Marco knowingly.

"Your respect for your family's legacy is admirable. Well no matter your station, You'll always have my money."

As the knight began fishing for coins out of his belt satchel, Marco leaned forward on the counter.

"So what's been going on with you my friend? You've got quite a few more wrinkles since the last time we talked."

Tyrus glanced up at the smithy, a slight grin on his face.

"Ah you know me well. I'm sure you you've heard about our recent problems?"

Marco chuckled. "Which ones?"

Tyrus shook his head. "Right again friend. Well with the recent recruiting troubles, our patrols have become...exhausting. Going out longer, farther, with less knights, more often."

"I've seen the newest posters, aren't those working?" Asked Marco, pointing to one of the fliers he had pinned to a wall.

"If only it was so easy!" Replied Tyrus. "Even with uh, you know, the orphans," The knights eyes flicked around cautiously. " We're barely meeting our quota."

What about the orphans? Wren thought, listening intently from the backroom.

"But it's different now." Continued the knight. "High command is working on a new initiative. Focusing more on those with low latent magical talent, rather than just trying to fill boots."

"Oh?" Said Marco. "That seems a strange direction for the knighthood."

"Indeed." Tyrus agreed. "And you didn't hear it from me, but rumor is our good old Psycho-Mage, Sir Orin, even has some new method of identifying even the lowest of talents. I can't tell you the details of course, but it's almost like he can unlock hidden talents."

Wren's ears perked up at hearing this.

"What? Like giving people abilities who've never had any before?" Probed Marco.

"Something like that." Tyrus answered. "I've met a couple of these new projects of his, and let me tell you, I don't know if I like it. They all seem to be young kids, and while they do posses remarkable talent, they seem...hollow. Like whatever he's doing is taking away from who they are as a person. As someone with absolutely no magical talent to speak of, I find it a little unsettling."

Marco was silent as he counted the coins the knight had laid on the counter. Tyrus sheathed his new weapon and shook Marcos hand.

"Well it was a pleasure doing business with you old friend. I hope things work out for you." The smithy said.

The knight waved as he turned and exited the shop. Wrens thoughts swirled in his brain. Lira stepped out from the other room, where she was taking inventory. She looked at Wren with wide eyes.

"What about the orphans, Marco?" Asked Wren, stepping into the main shop. The big man turned his hazel eyes to Wren.

Sighing, he raised his eyes to the ceiling.

"Well you were bound to find out sooner or later."

Wren stepped closer. "What is it Marco? Please, we need to know."

"As I'm sure you know, the Enclave is very interested in the goings-on of the knighthood. Hence why I sell to knights, it allows me to collect information. Plus I've spent a long time building rapport with him. Something we've been keeping track of for a while now, is how the orphanage operates. Did you notice anything odd about how things worked when you were there?"

Wren immediately recalled several things, like his perception that the older kids were being treated like recruits.

"I can see it in your eyes." Marco commented, looking at Wren. "You've seen the signs. The orphanage may have started with good intent, but very quickly the knighthood started using it to indoctrinate kids. A lot of the older kids, when they come of age, either volunteer to become initiates, or get drafted. We aren't sure how effective it is, but more and more of the young knights recently haven't come from within the city. The Enclave is concerned about just how effective the orphanage has actually become, and now hearing what Sir Tyrus has told me, we have an extra reason to be concerned. Speaking of which, I need to report what I've learned."

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Marco went to the front of his shop and flipped the sign on the door from "Open", to "Closed".

"I still have work that needs doing, but this is important. Follow me." He told Wren, then hurried to the storage room.

Inside, Marco picked up a small box. After double checking its contents, he closed the lid and drove a few nails in the top, then handed it to Wren.

"A dozen horseshoes. I need you to deliver this to Mister Humphrey, who owns the book store down the street."

Wren took the package excitedly. His first delivery, and his first chance to go out!

Marco poked his head around the door frame. "Lira, can you stay here? If you can keep working on the inventory I'd appreciate it."

Lira looked up from the ledger she was working on, nodding.

"Excellent. I shouldn't be very long."

Wren grabbed his fur lined cloak, graciously provided to him from the Enclave, and stepped outside. Marco locked the door behind him.

The cold wind stung his face, and he pulled the cloak around him tightly. A light snow fell gently, but people still ventured out, walking along the street. The sky was overcast, but it wasn't dark, and despite the chill it was a good day to be out. Wren headed down the street, taking in the sights around him. Folks were coming and going from local shops, running errands or just strolling up and down the snowy avenue. He peeked through windows as he walked by, looking in at people looking for clothing, buying food, for having work done. He'd only ever been to the main market with his father in the city center, but there seemed to be places of commerce through the city! He couldn't wait until he had a real day off to venture around. For now, he headed straight down the street, looking for the bookstore.

After a few minutes of walking, he saw the sign. A large wooden cutout shaped like a book, with the words "The Bookworm" written in fancy script. Wren pushed through the door, making a little bell jingle pleasantly. An older man at a desk looked up, adjusting his glasses to better see Wren.

"What can I do for you lad?" He asked, his voice soft and grandfatherly.

Wren stepped forward, placing his delivery on the desk.

"I'm supposed to give this to Mister Humphrey? Its from Marco the blacksmith."

The old man pulled the crate towards him, fumbling with a tool to try and remove the lid.

"Can I help?" Wren asked politely.

The man looked up surprised, then handed the tool to Wren.

" I'd be grateful for that lad. These old hands aren't so good with tools anymore."

Wren slid the tool under the lid and wrenched, popping the lid off. Inside were two neat rows of shiny new horseshoes.

The old man inspected them. "Very nice! His work is always superb."

He reached below the counter, handing Wren a small bag.

"Here's the payment, and here's a few for you lad. Thank you again for the help."

Wren accepted the coins happily, staring at them in his hand.

Four whole silver! Just for a delivery! He thought, elated.

Wren left the book store with a spring in his step. Recalling a store he saw on the way over, he quickly made his way back towards the blacksmiths. He stopped in front of a colorful sign out side a storefront.

"Treats, Pastries, and Breads!" it read. Wren stepped inside, breathing in deeply.

A kindly woman behind the counter was tying a ribbon on a box for a customer, and she looked up as Wren walked in.

"I'll be with you in one moment, love!" She called.

Wren looked at the big sign by the counter, admiring the colorful paintings of all the things the shop offered.

When the customer left, Wren strode over the the lady.

"can I get two honey cakes please?" He asked.

The lady went to fetch the treats while Wren pulled two silver coins from his tiny purse. She placed them in a brown wrapper, and thanked him for his coins.

Wren left the shop and bounded back to the blacksmiths, excited to share his new treasures with his sister.

Arriving at the shop, he saw the closed sign was still flipped. He knocked on the door and tried to peek through the darkened window. The lock clicked and Wren hurried inside.

Instead of seeing Marco, Keel stood by the door.

The tall man smiled at Wren. "Good to see you Wren! How are you doing?"

Wren, surprised to see him here, stumbled on his words, holding the coin purse up Mister Humphrey had given him.

"Ah, Marco had you running a delivery I see. That's a little sooner than we would have recommended, but he did have an important matter to attend to."

Lira poked her head from around the backroom, her eyes immediately locking onto the wrapped goods in Wrens hand.

"And what's that? You did a little shopping for you and your sister?" Keel asked, also taking note of the treats.

"Um, yes sir. Honey cakes." Wren replied meekly.

"splendid! I've heard those are very good. However they will have to wait. I've come to collect your sister."

Wren looked up at Keel sharply. "What do you mean? Has something happened?"

Keel chuckled softly.

"Fret not lad, it is good news in fact!" He replied. "An associate of mine wants to talk to your sister. Well, he wants to learn more at least."

Lira stepped forward, looking at keel curiously.

"He is more talented than I at the magic of the mind, and was very interested when I described our interview to him."

"Can he help her?" Wren asked, unable to keep excitement out of his voice.

"It's not my place to say if he can or cannot do anything for her, but rest assured, he will do what he can." Answered Keel, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Marco asked me to have you stay here, while I take her myself." Wren's heart dipped when he heard this. "So save your treats, and tonight the two of you can enjoy them, hopefully with some more good news!"

Wren hated being separated from his sister, especially after everything they had been through so far. But he knew he had to trust Keel and the Enclave, so he nodded, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him.

He hugged his sister, and watched sadly as the two of them exited through the hidden door at the back of the shop, the honey cakes still clutched in his hand.