Chapter 45

Ryker took us around the City, explaining the various shortcuts and paths he liked to take. Part of the trip, I noticed, involved him swinging by various food stands and stalls that had a variety of food and drinks to sample or purchase. Other than his obvious interest in delicious treats, I noticed he was also traveling in a way that helped us avoid the crowds. The main roads, clearly identified on our mental maps of the city, were clogged, full of not only Climbers, but all of the other city folk. With the Tower closed for the night and Dusk upon us, everyone seemed intent on dropping off supplies they acquired during the day or visiting the shops they needed. A stark contrast to how it had seemed when I’d gotten a momentary glimpse of the City after we’d resurrected earlier in the day, when a majority of the people were in the Tower.

“Best time to go shopping, honestly,” Ryker was explaining as we made our way to the blacksmith, “is about an hour or two after the Tower has opened. Most everyone is in the Tower, save for the people running the shops. If you get jobs that don’t require you to protect people in the Tower, you should totally take your time and check things out around the city at a leisure.” He moved past another person. Even by taking alleyways and cutting downside streets, the crowd near the shop he was taking us to was quite large. “Also keeps you from having to compete for a craftsman’s attention when you need them.”

We reached the shop a moment later, evidenced by the loud, rhythmic beat of hammers on metal. Suddenly the air seemed to increase in temperature, and I was rudely reminded of the hot, humid feel of the second floor. There were more than a dozen Climber’s crowded around the shop, but Ryker pushed through them, dragging us along. With each step, I felt sweat grow on my brow and body, the heat intensifying. A few people began to protest, but the sight of Ryker in his obsidian amor, made their cries die in their lungs.

“Ryker,” a friendly voice called as we reached the front. I took in the blacksmith’s shop then, finally getting a good view of it, and not the backs of Climbers.

It was large, made of stone, as all things were in the city. It was also extremely open, less a proper building, and more a structure with three walls and a domed ceiling. The very back of the large structure glowed red, a massive coal forge shimmering with cherry-red light. There was a chimney extending upwards from it, offering the smoke a route to escape from, keeping the air in the forge itself relatively clean. A group of individuals, bare chested, worked a pair of bellows. With each pump, the coals glowed orange, before resuming their red glow.

“How’s my favorite Climber doing today?” The man who was speaking to us standing behind a massive anvil, a hammer of respectable size held in his right hand. His left held a pair of tongs, which currently clung to a piece of red metal. He was in the process of moving the metal back into the coal, while the others worked the forge. Around him I counted five other anvils, with pairs of blacksmiths taking turns working their projects on them. The speaker, far as I could tell, was the only one with his own anvil.

“Long time no see Echo,” Ryker said cheerfully. “I see the forge is still doing well.”

“Your armor alone ensured we could cover our services for a full year,” the man, Echo, said with a hearty laugh. “What brings you by today? Have you come across another cluster of obsidian?” He looked Ryker up and down, “do you even need anything new made?”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

He shoved me forward. “I’m not here about me today Echo,” Ryker followed me into the forge, Nyle and Lyn staying close. I caught a few grumbles from the crowd. Either that, or the sudden jump in heat within was making me hear things. “My friend Ash here got his first recipe drop today, and I want you to be the one to make them for him.”

Echo pulled his tongs and the piece of metal from the forge. It glowed yellow, and he quickly placed it on the anvil before him. His hammer came down, and sparks danced. He said nothing as he worked, flipping the object from side to side, angling it as he hammered the metal. With each strike color flared on the metal, the yellow turning red for a brief moment to show where the hammer had struck. He worked methodically, masterfully. By the time he returned it to the forge, the piece had to have elongated by a few inches, and it was clear he was working on a blade.

“Honored you’d think of me,” he said as he waited for his piece to heat back up, “and if it’s not too much of a project, I’m sure I’ll be able to help.” He smiled up at Ryker. Echo’s face was covered in black soot, and his arms, corded with muscles, drenched sweat. “Only because its you, of course.” He pointed towards the crowd with his hammer. “If I gave anyone else such an exception, I’ve a feeling they’d revolt.”

Ryker laughed and glanced at the Climbers. They all looked at him, and averted their eyes. It was clear they weren’t happy with him cutting the line, but they weren’t about to say anything to him. I was getting the feeling being a Rank C Climber was more than a little impressive.

“Tell you what,” Ryker spoke loudly, so everyone in the crowd could hear him. “I’ll cover the costs for their projects, as an apology for cutting the line.”

Immediately the feeling in the air shifted. Smiles and cheers broke out from the crowd, and even the smiths, working on the projects, let out cheers. I felt sick at Ryker’s words. Guilty. How much was I costing him? He was doing so much for me and my friends. We didn’t deserve this kindness. My stomach threatened to revolt. I felt lightheaded. On second thought, maybe it was the oppressive heat of the forge.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ryker leaned down and whispered in my ear. Echo had retrieved the piece he was working on from the fire, and once more began working on the blade. He held it close to the edge of the anvil and tilted it upwards. He brought his hammer down hard, and the tip of the blade began to form. He hit it a few more times, flipped it around, and repeated the process. Before my very eyes, the weapon was taking shape. “I can assure you, when you get to my level, something like this is nothing.” He nodded back toward the other Climbers. “Besides, they’re all E rank Climbers. The cost of their projects will be practically nothing.”

“How do you know that?” I asked softly, looking back towards them. Did Ryker know everyone? Or was there something I was missing. Some way to notice who was who?

“Because anyone with any experience and sense, would have put their order in earlier in the day, when it wasn’t crowded. Higher Ranked Climbers are often in the Tower for days, or weeks, at a time. We don’t stand around waiting our turn to put in an order at the Blacksmith. Not to mention,” he smiled at me, “once you hit Rank D, you can start putting your requests into the shops from Climber’s Rest, for an additional convenience fee.”

He ruffled my hair, which was slick with sweat. “Only reason I’m here right now, is for you Ash. And honestly, a little extra expense, to share this experience with you, is more than worth it.”

Echo had worked his magic, and the sword he was forming had changed once again after another round of hammering. The belly of the blade had spread outwards, the metal warping and bending in response. Before he put it back in the fire, he straightened it out once more. I began to recognize the shape. It looked like a Falchion, a single edged blade that excelled in slashing attacks.

“I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you,” I responded. I really didn’t. This was too much. Between the heat of the forge, Ryker’s words and actions, watching Echo work, and the excitement over having weapons crafted for me, I was overwhelmed. It all felt surreal. Was I dreaming?

“You don’t have to repay me,” Ryker said with a chuckle. “Climbers should support Climbers. That goes for within the Tower, and without.”