The outside air was crisp. A soft breeze blew small clouds of snow down the road as kids ran around. Each bundled up as they chased one another. Screaming and laughing as they played. Their parents were scattered, some sat on benches while others ran stalls.

Lance stopped at the top step. His face turned up as he looked into the sky. I followed his gaze. There was not so much as a white wisp hanging out up there. “The seasons will change soon.” Was all he said before resuming his walk. He said it with such confidence that I was sure he had seen something.

I kept up with him while I thought about what I had seen up into the sky myself. Trying to figure out just what he had noticed but I came up empty. As I dropped my gaze down to look around, I caught sight of a streak of fire-red hair as it flew past.

Startled by someone running in front of me, I quickly scanned for the person I had nearly run over. My eyes caught sight of three other kids chasing another kid. The look of happiness reminded me of a time when I was young and didn’t understand what was going on in the world. Of how everything was falling apart. Of all the wars springing up across the world.

The largest of which kept showing up on television. Whenever I asked my parents about it, they brushed it off as nothing more than yet another spat between powers. That it would change nothing and not require the US to get directly involved. Just like most of the other recent conflicts. Such constant fear seemed to have desensitized both my parents to anything related to it. So I guess it was a good thing they both didn’t live long enough to see the war cover most of Europe and Asia.

As I recalled all this, my feet started to move only to get yanked back to reality when my foot ran into something on the ground. Curled up on the ground with barely enough fabric to cover her chest and legs, lay a girl. Her eyes vacant as she stared up at the sky. Looking yet not seeing the world around her.

The small puffs of fog as she breathed in and out were the only sign that she was still among the living. Worried that she might be near death, as I had been the day before, I crouched down. Looking her up and down as I tried to figure out what I could do. “Ignore her.” Came Lance’s clear voice from a few feet away.

“But…”

“Ignore her.” He repeated. His teeth clenched as his voice dropped lower. “And if you know what is best for yourself, you will keep to yourself.” I heard the crunch of snow as a boot ground it into the ice below as he spun around. Inside, I fought with myself. This girl would likely die without help. It didn’t matter if it was mine or someone else’s.

To my surprise, a guard came up a second later. Their heavy boots scuffed the stone through the snow as they bent down, giving her a once over as they asked, “Did you touch her?”

Were they asking if I had tried to do something to her? The fact that that was the first thing to come out of their mouth told me a ton about this town and some of the people in it. The very thought nearly had me retching. One of them scooped her up without another word, carrying her off. Hopefully they would get her somewhere warm. As they turned down a side alley, I saw a small tail hanging down. It was limp and lifeless.

I stood up quickly and took off to catch up with Lance before he disappeared into the slowly growing crowd. All the while trying to put the girl out of my head. The image of her tail haunted me. It wasn’t the only thing that bothered me. But I couldn’t place my finger on why.

The smells and noise increased the more we walked. The snow slowly transitioned to a dark brown littered with various piles of refuse. The number of horse-drawn carts and carriages increased proportional to the number of people. It increased fast enough that I soon could no longer afford to be distracted. If I did, I was likely to lose Lance as a cart or group blocked him from my sight. So, I forced my mind onto the task at hand as I rushed to keep up with my guide. All the while, trying not to get shoved around. The chaos calmed down and grew more organized as the walls came into sight.

While I was fairly certain that there were guards scattered throughout the city, the guards near the gate had a visible presence. In addition to the patrols walking through the crowd, there were a number of them standing in various places. Their eyes wandered over the place as they kept an eye on everything and everyone.

Multiple orderly lines flowed through the gate in both directions. To my surprise, not a single person was stopped. No one was questioned about what they might be bringing into the city, about their identities, nor their reason for visiting. As the sound of people talking, horses stomping, and other noises had grown too loud, I chose to save my question for when we got someplace a bit quieter.

Our path meandered through the lines as we slowly made our way to the left side of the street. Eventually, we passed out of the crowd and into a decently wide alley that bordered the wall and the first row of buildings. The noise from the street abated enough for me to hear our echoing footsteps. I had to scramble a bit to catch up and move to the side as I moved close enough to talk. “So, two questions.”

“What?” He growled as one of his hands rubbed at his twitching ears.

“Why was no one getting stopped at the gate?”

“The system the gods created scans anyone who goes through a gate. Charging tolls as needed on top of checking for warrants and various illicit or illegal items.” Makes sense. Pretty sure any government on Earth would have killed to have such a system. “What is your other question?”

“How come the city doesn’t build houses up to the wall? It’s a ton of wasted space.” He stopped and looked at me. His expression asked if I was really that stupid.

Finally, he just rolled his eyes and resumed walking. “Officially it is because building a house along the wall is dangerous. If the wall broke then it was likely to take the houses with it, killing everyone inside. In reality, it is to prevent anyone from using said houses to get through the wall without using a gate.”

So it was for security. Wait, did that also mean that you could get around the gate scan as long as you didn’t go through a gate? I stored that tidbit of information away for later use. Never knew when you might need to sneak into or out of a city undetected.

As we passed each door on the building side of the street, I tried to get a glance inside. My mind tried to come up with what each building was being used for. I doubted any of them were used by the poor or the homeless. The buildings were too well-kept for that. The wood and stone used in each were just too clean. It almost looked like someone took the time to regularly clean and maintain everything.

The further we walked, the more jittery I became. My nerves became more sensitive as we passed five more buildings of similar look and size, a gap ahead of us caught my eye. From this angle, it looked like the building that had been there had been mostly demolished. The only things left were a few pillars and a roof that looked like it wanted to give up.

Only when we approached the building did I realize that the place had never held a building like the ones around it. Not a single wall was visible, nor were there any studs to suggest there ever had been. The pillars holding up the roof, while falling apart, looked to have always been exposed to the elements. Even the rotting wood making up the ground was, save for the rot, in one piece.

Sitting on a chair against one of the better pillars under the lip of the roof was an older man. His features looked like they were heavily influenced by an Asian ancestor. Not that it bothered me. No. What bothered me was the state of his body. He was thin. Bones jut out from his cheeks and through his shirt. He looked like he would keel over at any moment.

It didn’t help that he looked to be missing an arm and leg on his left side. The same side that was pointed away from the street. Hidden enough that one would be unlikely to notice it from the street. Lucas seemed to be walking directly for the man. For what reason, I had no clue.

“What do yah want?” Came a gravely voice. I looked around for someone else as I hoped he was want talking to use. My gaze returned to the old man just in time to see his mouth move. “Spit it out, girl. Don’d ‘ave all day.”

Hearing this elder call me a girl nearly caused me to rant at him. Fortunately for him, and me, my parents raised me to respect my elders. So I closed my eyes. Forcing myself to count to three as I took a long and deep breath. Holding it for three seconds before finally exhaling. I drew the process out as long as I could before finally attempting to answer his question. Trusting that this place was where Lance was supposed to bring me.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Slowly, I opened my eyes as I spoke. “I was sent here to get a weapon.” His eyebrows lifted, eyes shining a little at something I had said or done.

“Let me get ah look at yah then.” He demanded as his hand gestured for me to come closer. With a bit of hesitation and dragging feet, I moved closer. The moment I was in range of his hand, it whipped out. Yanking my right arm nearly out of its socket as he moved to study it. It felt like I had millions of ants crawling under my skin as his eyes moved over my hand and up my arm. Squeezing parts as he got a feel for something. He must have come to some sort of decision because he dropped my arm as he proclaimed, “No ‘eavy weapons for you. Maybe a sword, if we ‘ave any. ‘ake a look ‘round and see what yah see.”

I took that as permission to pass into the place and away from him. I had been so focused on the old man as we approached the building that I hadn’t noticed the piles scattered across the floor. As I turned and walked into the place, I had no choice but to look.

The sight of the place and the state of the weapons in the piles made me sad, angry, and disappointed. There was no way I was going to be able to find anything even remotely usable in this place. The piles on the floor were made up of one weapon type or another. All of the visible surfaces ranged from simply tarnished to straight-up rusted through.

Shelves scattered across the place held the only serviceable-looking weapons. Even those were heavily worn. Everything looked like someone had abused it. Using the weapons while ignoring any maintenance before trading it in for a newer and shinier piece.

I took my time to look at all of the items on the shelves. Hoping that something would stick out to me. That I would find something I could use until I saved up enough to buy a better weapon. I passed by hammers of all sizes and shapes. Axes on the end of a rather long shaft. Blades that looked like squiggly lines. Even some multipointed knives that reminded me of tridents.

I tried to imagine myself using them in various situations. Contemplating if I should try to learn an odd weapon or not. After all, most people developed strategies against most of the common weapons they might encounter. The odder the weapon, the more of an advantage you would have. Even with those thoughts and ideas at the forefront of my mind, none of the weapons called to me. In fact, I was pretty sure that if I used any of these odd weapons, I was more likely to hurt myself than anything I targeted.

Giving up on the weapons on the shelves, I moved on to the haphazardly placed piles of blades. Most of which were without sheaths. The sheaths that were in the pile were so tattered that they were practically useless. Like every other weapon, each blade had some sign of wear and tarnish. Still, I didn’t have much choice but to go through the pile if I wanted any hope of finding something I could use.

I moved from blade to blade. Carefully taking from the top of the pile in an effort to keep it from collapsing. Giving each weapon a good look before separating them into three piles based on what I knew about metal. The majority ended up in the scrap pile. Their metal was pitted with rust while visible cracks made their way across the surface.

A few made it into a pile of blades with small cracks and no rust pitting. While it was a small pile, it wasn’t the smallest. That honor fell to the one for blades with absolutely no cracks and only minor tarnish to the metal. Yeah, there were only three blades in that pile by the end of my search. Even then, those blades each had some issues. Issues that made me question their usability. Still, something about one of the blades repeatedly pulled my attention.

The weapon was on the shorter side. Its tip only reached the center of my chest when held in my outstretched hand. Both hands fit in the grip comfortably, though I felt as though I could use it with one hand in a pinch. Most of the issues with this weapon had to do with the wrapping and sheath. The only damage I could find on the metal itself had to do with a bit of chipping and rolls along the edge. All of which were probably something that any blacksmith could fix given time and money.

“Find something?” Lance asked from just over my shoulder. The unexpected voice caused me to jump. His fast reflexes were the only thing that kept me from falling onto the piles of blades. I could only nod as I tried to catch my breath from the close shave with death, again. I needed to stop trying to give the respawn system a try. His hand released my shirt as if burned. “Good.”

He about-faced. Taking the lead as we walked back to the front. I presented the blade to the old man. He smiled as he took it. “Let me see what yah picked.” While he had a grip on the weapon, something inside of me refused to let go. His eyes shone with a glint of amusement at something, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he calmly waited until I could force my fingers apart.

With his leg, he carefully unsheathed the blade. Balancing the blade on his leg as his fingers traced the metal. “Ah,” his voice grew more broken up and harder to understand as he stroked the blade as if it were a long-lost lover. “Though’ I lost my sweet ‘irl in da fight dat took so much from me. Glad ta see ‘er ‘gain. Mus’ of ‘een ‘rought ‘ere after da baddle.”

I pretended to not see the streaks of water on his face as he slowly resheathed the blade. He held it out to me. His voice was still a bit rough as he said, “’just need yah ‘eapon token.” I held the coin in the palm of one hand as the other took the blade from him. “Good, good.”

A ringing notification sounded off in my head followed by a simple pop-up screen.

Token use detected. Adjusting weapon for immediate use.

Adjustment finished.

Weapon ‘Shizukana Arashi’ has been gifted to you by Takeshi.

There were a few things about that screen that irked me. To start with, I thought I had notifications turned off. Then again, it was a trade slash gift so maybe it was the system's way of protecting both parties. Also, why was the weapon name green? Nothing else I had seen so far had a different color. Confused and annoyed with the system, I willed the item's description into view.

Weapon Name:

Shizukana Arashi

Type:

Single-Edged Blade

Specific Type:

Chisa Katana

Rank:

Uncommon

Range:

Melee

Material:

Folded Steel

Current Damage:

10 – 100 HP*

Level:

13

XP:

14.4k/16.9k

Skills:

[Locked due to damage]

Durability:

27/150

Current Condition:

Sheath – Worn through

Handle – Wrap falling apart

Blade – Poor.

Requirements:

A blade-related skill LVL 2 or greater

Or

User named Kyren

Description:

This weapon excels at short-range combat. This blade’s previous wielder poured their heart and soul into practicing with this weapon. As this blade took the lives of their enemies, it absorbed the knowledge. Nudging its wielder in time of need. Kyren, take care of this weapon and it will take care of you. Also, you will find that this weapon is best used with both hands, though you can use one if necessary. Without a blade-related skill, you will find that the damage is negligible.

So, the weapon kind of sucked. I mean, the flavor text hinted at its ability to help me in a fight, but that meant nothing to me. Even the damage meant nothing. Not when it was such a large range.

Hell, based on the durability and listed conditions, the weapon was practically falling apart. If not for its status as an uncommon weapon, I would probably trade the thing in at the first opportunity. Not that I would tell the old man that. Instead, I would hope that the weapon skills would make up for the amount of work I would have to put into it to get it repaired. Where did one even go in the city to get a new sheath?

Thankfully, neither of them noticed my reaction. “’ake these,” the old man said as he passed me a small cloth with some sort of stone inside. “Use them to take care of my blade.”

While I was a bit disappointed in the weapon, I still wanted to show respect to this old man. I stored the three items in my inventory before bowing at a full forty-five-degree angle toward him. Happy that my obsession with anime and Japanese culture had some use. “Thank you for the gift. I will take care of it for as long as I am able.”

He nodded as he out with his arm to grab my shoulder and give it a light squeeze. “I know yah will. Now off ‘ith yah.” I lifted my head the moment he released my shoulder. Without another word, he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, effectively dismissing us. Not wanting to disrupt his nap, I turned and headed in the direction of the gate. Lance caught up in an instant before pulling slightly ahead as he took the lead.