As Isyd was walking down the hallway, Kewin Udachur ran up to him, breathless.
“Is everything alright?” he asked.
Isyd gave him a curious look.
“With Tutor Milwyk, I mean,” Kewin clarified.
“Oh, yeah! He just wanted to talk to me about the competition.”
“Oh, I see. By the way, when you were gone, I found Olav and his friends who destroyed your bed. They had left the Academy for a while and they just come back.”
“Perfect. I need to talk to them.”
Kewin shuffled on his feet, hesitant. “Hmm… I overheard them as they were talking. The two other boys were bragging that they possibly made a lot of money by selling… that is… I think they sold what they stole from you…”
Isyd felt going cold inside. His precious knife. Her last gift. Stolen and sold.
He noticed on the edge of his vision Naeht approaching him, a worried expression on her face. Isyd blinked, composing himself. He was in control. He had to be.
“Where are those boys right now?” he asked.
“In the Second Canteen, the last time I saw them.” Kewin paused. “Are you gonna confront them?”
Isyd did not answer immediately. He peered at the outside window, looking at how far down the sun was. “I could go after them right now, but they don’t have what I want anymore. It would be a loss of time. I’d rather go after my stuff. Anyway, thanks for your help, Kewin Udachur. I won’t bother you any longer with this.”
A slow blush rose in Kewin’s neck. “It’s not a bother at all! Actually, I was hoping I could stick around and see the end of this… You know, like… if it’s not a problem for you, that is…”
Isyd stared at this young man who was one head taller than him and of strong build but was as shy and blushed as often as a maiden. Something in Kewin Udachur reminded Isyd of a younger Wolteh.
Isyd smiled. “Sure! I’m glad for your help. Let’s go, then.”
“Hmm… How do we know where to go? They could have sold it anywhere.”
“Actually, they couldn’t.” Isyd began walking, and Kewin followed next to him. They stole my knife, but my knife is not any kind of knife. Are you familiar with Inian Steel?”
Kewin shook his head negatively.
“It’s a special type of steel that is only used for weapons,” Isyd explained. “It is difficult to make which makes it precious and rare. So rare in fact that Inian blades are followed with attention, in case of theft or counterfeiting. No respectable merchant would buy an Inian blade without making sure that it was acquired by legitimate means. Being caught with a stolen Inian blade, even if one is not the thief is a grave crime.”
“Oh… so how did they manage to sell it, then?”
Isyd shrugged. “They just had to find any disreputable merchant who is willing to not look too closely and ask questions. There are a few of those in Vilriver if you know where to find them. I do remember of a few of them in the Outside.”
They continued in silence until they had reached the gates of the Academy.
Finally, Kewin had gathered enough courage to ask the questions that burned his lips. “So, if those Inian blades are so hard to come by, how did you get one?”
Isyd smirked. He had expected the question. “It was a gift. The story behind it is quite long… and for another time. Anyway, are you familiar with the Outside per chance?”
Kewin was, which made their search easier. They split up, each one visiting pawnshops they were familiar with in the sketchier part of the city. It took them a little bit less than two hours, but in the end, they managed to find the shop in question in a dark alleyway. Grime lined the walls of the houses that were crumbling and a strong smell of rotting meat floated in the air. The pawnshop was situated between a tavern and a dubious drugstore. Isyd entered first, tingling in passing the bell attached to the door.
Inside, behind dirty glass panes were displayed the merchandise: swords and jewel-encrusted daggers, necklaces and rings, wooden and porcelain statues and even a few [Arcanes]. One look around was enough for Isyd to determine that his knife wasn’t displayed. Not surprising given how valuable it was. He approached the counter, Kewin on his heels but more hesitant and skittish.
The owner was a large man with long, oily dark hair, a crooked nose and missing his front teeth. He saw the two Pupils with their fresh uniforms approaching and gave them a dull look.
“How can I help ya?” the shop owner drawled.
“Did Pupils of the Academy come here to sell you something?” Isyd asked.
“Mayhap… What is it to you?”
“They sold you something that they stole from me.”
“Did they now…”
The man was definitively not interested in Isyd’s story as demonstrated by his tired look.
Isyd tried another angle. “Could I have a look at what they sold you?”
“Are you interested in buying the knife?”
Well, that confirmed that here was indeed the place where his knife was. “It is precious to me,” Isyd said.
The man growled, then reach for something underneath the counter. He pulled out a sheathed knife of sober design. The leather sheathe was undecorated and the hilt was dark and showed signs of usage. Quick like a snake, Isyd’s arm whipped out in front of him and snatched the knife.
“Oi!” the shop owner cried out. “Give it back, ya fiend!”
Isyd ignored him. He held his knife with his right hand and with the left unsheathed it, revealing the blade underneath.
“Wow…” Kewin let out over Isyd’s shoulder.
This was the usual reaction when Inian steel was seen for the first time. The cross-guard was curved and thin from which the blade extended. It was double-edged and straight and shone with the light of polished steel. More importantly, what was truly mesmerizing about it was the waveforms that appeared on its surface. They spawned from the guard and spread to the tip in a random pattern. It was no paint or carving or decoration, but an inherent property of the metal that was used for the crafting of the blade.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Isyd sheathed back his knife, reassured that it had not suffered any visible damage. He handed it back to the shop owner, who was watching him with furious eyes.
“This is my knife,” Isyd said. “I assume you know the nature of it.”
“I don’t know no’ing!” the pawnbroker denied. “Ya wanna buy it or nah?”
“How much?”
“5 Golds.”
Kewin started coughing as if he swallowed something the wrong way. Isyd did not even blink. He looked the man straight in the eyes.
“I am no fool. Try again.”
“4 Golds and 6 Silvers, I ain’t going lower!”
“You bought this for no more than 2 Golds, I assume. And you went that high only because you knew this was Inian steel. I’m the true owner of the knife and I’ll have it back. While you’re trying to swindle me, you should remember what would happen to your little shop if the authorities learned that you owned a stolen piece of Inian steel. Surely, the Merchant Guild would not be happy…”
“Aren’t ya the one who tries to swindle me? I bought this sword and it ain’t no business of I how it got here!! I ain’t give it to ya free, even if ya say it’s yours! So, either ya buy it or ya bugger off!”
Isyd narrowed his eyes as the shop owner put his knife back under his counter. He sighed and took a long look around the place. When his eyes landed back on the counter, they were determined.
“How much did you pay them? And do not lie this time.”
Something in Isyd’s voice made the pawnbroker take a small step back. “1 Gold, 8 Silvers, 3 Coppers and a Quarter.”
Isyd made the calculation in his head. It may as well be a king’s hoard given how penniless Isyd was.
“There’s an interest rate, isn’t there? How much is it?”
“An interest? What are ya—”
“You’re a pawnshop. Of course, you gave them an interest. An increase on the loan within a certain time limit. So, what’s the interest and what is the time limit?”
“1 Gold, 10 Silvers for the first week, 11 Silvers for the second week and 2 Golds for the third,” the man growled out reluctantly.
Three weeks… I’m not even certain it will be enough, Isyd thought.
He turned and made a sign to Kewin that they were leaving. They walked in silence until they were quite a few paces away from the shop. Isyd was lost in his thoughts, Kewin was looking at him with a curious expression.
“So… what are we going to do now?” he finally asked as they made their way through the busy streets of the Outside toward the Academy.
“Somehow, I have to find the money to pay back the bail. 1 Gold and 10 Silvers.”
“I only have 7 Silvers to spare…”
Isyd gave him a confused look. “I’m not going to take your money! Your kindness is appreciated but that would be too much. Plus, I’m sure you need those Silvers for this semester.”
Isyd saw in Kewin’s eyes that it was true. The young man tried to change the subject. “Isn’t it weird that Olav wanted to sell your knife? He’s a noble, I don’t think he needs money.”
“Probably so that I can’t accuse him of theft,” Isyd said. “He probably didn’t want to deal with proving that he was the owner of an Inian blade, but he recognized its value and didn’t want to throw it out. I guess selling it was the best he could think of in such a short amount of time.”
“I see. Do you have an idea on how you are going to find the money?”
“No, but finding Olav Kazkan and his friends would be a good beginning. After they do have the money they earned from selling my knife.”
“If you attack them to take back the money, it would be considered as racketing…”
Isyd said nothing.
“You are not really thinking of attacking them, are you…?”
“I hope it won’t come to that.” Something in Kewin’s voice had perked Isyd’s attention. “Is there a problem?”
“It’s just… well, I’m not a fan of violence, in general… I don’t like fighting, that’s all…”
At that point, Isyd could not even say he was surprised. “Don’t worry, if push comes to shove, I don’t want you to get involved.”
“Oh, okay…”
They had crossed the Emerald Bridge and the Western Gate was in sight.
“I remember now that one of Olav’s friends was of the 3rd Opening…” Kewin said.
“So what?”
“Well… just to say that it may not be the best idea to confront them…”
Isyd smirked. “It should be okay. Don’t worry about it, and most importantly, do not intervene in any way. I’ll handle it.”
Isyd was most preoccupied with finding the money to buy his knife. Even if he managed to gather all the coins Olav and his friends had earned from the sale, he would still be missing 1 Silver, 6 Coppers and 3 Quarters to pay for the interest. That was a fortune and he had no idea how to obtain it. Plus, he was pressed by the time; the last thing he wanted was to see the interest increase or the pawnbroker attract attention to the fact that he now owned an Inian blade. This Olav Kazkan was more trouble than Isyd had anticipated.
Isyd had become careless. He’d been fooled by the illusion of peace and safety granted by the Academy. Now he paid the heavy price.
“Er… Isyd? I think I found the boy,” Naeht suddenly said in his ear.
She was pointing straight ahead. Isyd followed her gaze up the Fields and indeed, there stood Olav Kazkan. He was hanging out with four of his friends, two of them matching the descriptions of Olav’s accomplices according to Kewin.
From the corner of his eye, Isyd saw Kewin grimacing when he also noticed Olav’s presence. Isyd did not hesitate and ran up the incline. He stopped a few paces from the gathering.
Olav ignored him for a few seconds, but when he saw that Isyd wasn’t budging, he finally turned to him.
“What do you want, Peasant?” he said with a mocking smirk.
“You caused me more trouble than you are worth, Kazkan,” Isyd said calmly. “You stole something from me.”
“Bold claim! A thief calls another a thief!”
“I’m guilty of no theft. The same couldn’t be said of you.”
“No theft? How do you explain the Inian knife in your possession, then? The day a peasant like you would own an Inian blade would be the day the Crowns would break apart!”
His friends snickered around him. Isyd observed them in turn: three boys, two of the 1st Opening, the last of the 3rd Opening and a girl of the 2nd Opening. The girl and another boy displayed signs of being part of a Ring, but Isyd didn’t recognize them. He turned back to Olav.
“The knife was mine. By knowing about its existence, you all but confessed that you were responsible for the theft. What is that you want in exchange for returning my knife?”
Olav scoffed. “What a peasant like you could give me that I do not yet own? I feel like I’m losing something precious by simply talking to you.”
“Is it not the noble way to expose your grievances to the individual? What does it say of the Kazkans if you’d rather steal from me instead of facing me?”
Steel sharpened Olav’s gaze and he clenched his jaw. His friends got up and stood taller and closer. The mood had suddenly shifted from laughter to something more dangerous, more threatening.
“I have seen enough of you, Peasant,” Olav spat. “You’ll have nothing of me. Bugger off!”
“Give me back my knife, and we can both forget that anything has happened today.”
“Didn’t you hear him? He told you to bugger off!” one of Olav’s friends said. He had short blond hair and a wide mouth that turned into a crooked smile.
Isyd didn’t even glance at the man. His gaze was matching Olav’s.
The blond man took a step toward Isyd, menacing. Isyd turned to him. “Do not touch me,” he let out in a low warning.
The blond man scoffed at the threat. He extended his arm as to shove Isyd at the shoulder out of the way.
He didn’t get to touch Isyd.
Swift like an eel, Isyd swept his arm away and kicked the man’s feet under him, sending him to the ground, headfirst.
It had happened in an instant and everyone gasped all around. The commotion had gathered a crowd.
Isyd turned back to Olav, unfazed by the menacing gaze and the wands that were now pointed at him.
“Give me back my knife,” Isyd calmly repeated.