The quiet people – Azhar, Rahki, Varys – elected to get a good night’s rest rather than go hunt a cryptic blacksmith, since they had to be up before dawn for the animals.

That left the measured Yianna to handle the loud ones, all brandishing weapons and torches as they crept along the lakeside.

As it was well past their bedtimes and tiredness creeped into their minds, their natural tendency toward animated and open discussions took a harsh left turn into bewilderment and frustration.

All four voices overlapped each other in a cacophony of disarray.

“What?”

“What do you mean that’s the blacksmith?”

“Is it a summoning focus for a spirit? I’ve seen a few of those for spirits of temples in—”

“Is it a ghost? I don’t want to upset a ghost. Can we apologize somehow?”

The guildmaster held up her hand trying to regain control of the situation. “Give me a moment and I will explain it to all of you, at once.”

She carefully reached inside the lantern, casting a spell that lit the flame once more.

The saltsmith blinked back into existence, held at a strange angle by which they looked at the underside of the guildmaster’s chin.

“Pink-white will fit you better than an eerie red-orange, I feel.” Sure enough, the flame was a much brighter, less sinister color now.

Yianna placed the lantern on the anvil nearby, stepping away so that she was within eyesight of the thing. She gestured to the others to move closer before launching into an explanation of what she knew.

The saltsmith was stunned, shocked into listening instead of any form of reaction.

“That is the blacksmith, yes. I believe the flame acts as their… spirit, so blowing it out put it to sleep. The sudden clattering in the cottage was because an unconscious spellcaster can’t maintain concentration-based magic; all their, hrm, parts fell to the ground.”

“Oh,” Juniper said from the side, resting the head of her warhammer in the dirt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know!”

“I’ll return you to your body in a few moments,” Yianna addressed the saltsmith, who was simply overwhelmed by all this attention. “I have information to provide first.”

She continued, looking directly at the lantern. “The fire is magical. It cannot burn out or be put out by normal means. It can be placed underwater or in a monsoon and it will remain lit. The only way that magical fire can go out is to be extinguished by magic, intentionally. It produces light but not heat.”

That was a relief to the saltsmith, though they couldn’t acknowledge the information. Did she choose that kind of fire out of consideration for the smith?

“Wait, so it’s listening right now?” Atteberry asked, sounding unnerved.

“Yes, but it’s been separated from its limbs, so it isn’t trying to move currently.”

Yianna had the hindsight bias of knowing the pumpkin head was fully capable of rolling on its own, but it was choosing to wait and listen to the guildmaster. Very polite of it, really.

“Without a system or summoning expert, I don’t know how we will determine what it is, but it seems to be bound to this lantern. It registers in my sight as an artifact, although I suspect none of you have that same interaction.”

After a chorus of quiet no’s, Yianna continued.

“Artifacts are objects of great importance to the system. I have only seen a few in my time; most never witness a single one. They aren’t the same was magical equipment. These are… items that have purpose, even if you don’t know what that purpose is.”

Nanazin caught on faster than the rest. “This artifact’s purpose is to contain this spirit?”

Yianna waved a hand in acknowledgment of her ignorance on the matter. “That is our best guess, but it may not be correct, even still.”

The lantern shuddered on the anvil, causing Samir to startle as he was closest.

Yianna picked up the artifact as she continued to talk, walking toward the cottage door. “It hasn’t tried to vocalize yet, so I don’t know if it can. I will return it to its body and see if it wants to be social.”

She placed the lantern just inside the doorway, away from the guild’s curiosity, then Yianna left the smith to reassemble in privacy.

“And if it doesn’t?”

The saltsmith couldn’t hear all of the discussion outside, not while they scrambled to put their pieces back together. The capturing process was quick; the chaining process was not.

They wanted to interact with people but not like this. Being so… naked and vulnerable was mortifying and terrifying to the saltsmith, who simply wanted to get away. They didn’t understand what they were, neither did the people, but after having the ability to move and act independently, being reduced to a lantern was shocking and scary.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

They only caught a few words of the conversation outside. The people were debating if it was unreasonable to remain at-arms about the smith’s existence or what to do if the being proved itself non-aggressive.

The saltsmith didn’t stick around for proper introductions. They quietly escaped through the hole in the ceiling, scaling a beam to get out. While everyone was focused on the front door, they neglected to consider other exits.

The smith circled off to the side, climbing a tree in the dark and peering down at the debating guild members from a comfortable distance.

They were shocked when the gold-clad lady turned her gaze exactly toward them once again, unsure how she could find them in an instant.

Yianna watched the bright-colored face in the treetop. She was able to sense fragments of her magic at a close distance to assess their status. It was a helpful skill as an illusionist whose magic wasn’t always bodily.

“We should go,” she said amidst the discussion.

Nanazin furrowed her brow. “Aren’t we waiting for the smith to come out?” Her sentiment was undercut by a sudden yawn, as the late hour was catching up to her.

“It moved to the trees a few minutes ago. We may have scared it.”

Heads turned sharply to try and find the location of the smith, as if hunting for a wolf in the trees; the saltsmith hid their face behind a branch, light blocked by the evergreen leaves.

“Oops,” Juniper muttered. “I guess I’ll apologize again another day.”

“Go rest,” the guildmaster ordered, though politely. “I may see if it will interact with me before I retire for the night.”

Atteberry paused as if he wanted to ask a question, but he shook the uncertainty off and left, trailing behind Nanzin and Juniper, who were lightly bickering about whose yawn set off the other’s yawn.

Samir said good night and wandered off slower than the rest, looking back a few times as if to catch a glimpse of the mysterious smith.

Yianna waited until the guild staff were on the far side of the lake, lights disappearing as they entered their tents to rest. She found the smith in the trees once more, perched closer now that there were less people to fear but still high above her head.

The saltsmith was curious why she remained. She seemed to know things about this world’s magic, information that the saltsmith did not possess. Was she interested in their artifact, as she said?

“It was not our intention to scare you,” the lady began, her jewelry jingling in the dark.

Her eyes shone an eerie green every time the saltsmith looked directly at her, like a wild animal in the woods caught in the beam of those new flashlights.

“We were curious about your existence, and although I’ve seen you in the settlement, the others were unaware and wanted to be prepared for anything.”

The saltsmith couldn’t convey any sense of understanding aside from remaining in the woman’s presence. They understood why the others came with weapons; they even understood the mindset, the fear of the unknown and uncertainty.

It was their own apprehension at being extinguished that led the saltsmith to be wary. They let her continue speaking, watching like a gargoyle on a cathedral, or perhaps more like a spider in a web.

“My name is Yianna.”

The saltsmith tracked her careful movements through the jingle of her jewelry and the flash of her eyes, though she remained rooted in one spot.

“I am the Guildmaster of the Adventurer’s Guild of Northern Kovatelli. The other people in our settlement are members of the guild or staff hired to assist.”

An Adventurer’s Guild? They weren’t common where the saltsmith grew up, but they knew that guilds existed overseas or used to. Maybe guilds were going the way of horses, being taken over by factories and machinery.

Regardless, a guild of adventurers? For what purpose? The saltsmith had a moment of incredulity in which they wondered how many adventurers there were in this world, only to be reminded of the dragon’s existence.

Ah, yes. The dragon was doing wonders in breaking down the saltsmith’s doubts and misconceptions. Of course, a guild for adventurer’s existed in a world with dragons. How foolish of the saltsmith to think otherwise.

“We have appreciated your assistance, though I’m unsure how you want to be treated moving forward. Although you appear sentient and independent, I am unsure if you are a spirit or a new concept unknown to me.”

Yianna the Guildmaster watched the saltsmith as they descended their tree. They didn’t want to be fully on the ground, but they could lower themselves closer to eye level to examine the woman.

It was dark, but the saltsmith had a built-in ambient light, diffuse but still helpful.

Yianna had curly hair and dark skin, hard to see at night. Even though the lighting stripped her of any color, the saltsmith knew she and Nanazin were nearly identical, as they confused the two women frequently from a distance. Both had brown-black hair and copper-brown skin, very similar to Samir, albeit he had a lighter skin tone.

The guildmaster wore long skirts, paired with a short shirt that showed her stomach. The saltsmith couldn’t make out details in this light, but they knew her clothing was striped and colorful, with gold jewelry to give her a bright, beautiful appearance.

It was in great contrast with the saltsmith’s prior life, where times were difficult and colorful fabric was a luxury.

They allowed themselves to be drawn in, too curious about the woman to avoid her. She lit their flame, in multiple ways; they could trust her, a little.

Yianna remained calm and stationary. She was a dragon, even in human form very little could harm her. The smith’s motions were intriguing, as she watched them move closer and closer.

They kept most of their limbs folded up in their chest, looking like a ribcage from a distance, but it was all elbows and arm bones. Two sets of arms propelled them around mostly, a forward set for motion, a rear set for balance and grip as they lowered themselves from the tree branches.

The swords were stationary until they were on the ground, positioned like the rear end of a cricket as they climbed, then the smith switched to using the points of each sword as feet. It seemed the being could balance easily as their limbs floated around them.

The motion was delicate and deliberate, something Yianna did not expect from a blacksmith. Although she watched the creature move around for the last week at a distance, she was unable to process how little… weight the smith conveyed at any given time.

The swords barely sank into the dirt. It seemed the smith needed to simply have contact with a surface in order to move around on it, with magic acting as muscles and joints. Yianna wondered how strength and effort played into their movement, or if it was all a delicate game of magical balance and coordination.

She watched as the strange creature drew closer, its lantern head low as it seemed to assess her clothing. Her bangles jingled softly as a metallic skeletal hand touched one, curious.

Yianna spoke quietly, gently. She didn’t want to spook the smith into fleeing once more. “If you wish to see, we can go to my tent. There is light. I want to look at you, as well.”

The saltsmith withdrew their hand, suddenly aware of how intrusive they were being. They paused, thinking, before gesturing with an upright palm toward the tents.

After you, they said.