《To Craft a Chance》 1 - Jenny Jenny loved those first moments after waking up. That hazy feeling of the world solidifying around her, before normal life intruded. She clung to that drowsy half-awake feeling for as long as she could, luxuriating in the peace of the morning. Or afternoon on bad days. She¡¯d tried therapy for a while, before it became too much of a financial burden to continue. Her therapist had asked if she had any problem sleeping, and Jenny had confidently replied no, not at all, she could sleep for fourteen, even sixteen hours if she had nothing else going on. She was almost proud of it. But that was ruined by the Therapist¡¯s look of shock, ¡°you don¡¯t think that sleeping for fourteen to sixteen hours is a problem?¡± she¡¯d asked. Right. That¡¯s true - most people don¡¯t do that once they¡¯re over the age of two. Short-lived therapy aside, Jenny thought she was mostly fine. Apathetic maybe. Isolated for sure. Occasionally struggling with crippling anxiety and bouts of depression, absolutely. But still fine. Ish. Well, functioning at least. She had a job (part time) which paid for her flat (a tiny mess). She spoke to her mum once a week (unavoidable) and texted with some friends from uni (enough to trick them into thinking she was living a normal life). The problem was, Jenny felt like she had no reason to not be happy. She was incredibly fortunate and had been raised with love and given every opportunity to succeed. She was clever, talented, physically healthy, and grew up in a comfortable middle-class family. Literally won the lottery of birth circumstances. And yet, despite all that, at 26, Jenny was done. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. According to her mother, the choices she had made since leaving university were foolish to say the least. Going abroad to teach English was, at best, meant to be a sort of post uni gap year. Four years later, Jenny had found a balance of working enough hours to be able to afford to live, and then added an extra half day as a financial buffer. She considered that a success. Her mother however insisted that she should return home and get a proper job, and a boyfriend, and friends, and group hobbies. An adult life. The mere thought of it made Jenny¡¯s scalp itch. In as much as she liked anything, she liked her life, her routine. It was peaceful. Jenny had tried so hard and done so much as a child and teenager that she had run out of fuel. This was what she could manage, so this was what she did. Her flat was a whirlwind of books, plants, both alive and dead, half-finished projects of every kind; drawings, embroidery and origami lay interspersed with sheet music, unopened mail and unmarked homework from the language school. The mess didn¡¯t bother Jenny. The tiny kitchen and bathroom were both clean, and that was what mattered. It was what made her realise something had changed when she woke up that morning. Instead of the calming chaos she was accustomed to, Jenny lay in an unnervingly clean, empty, white room. Am I in hospital? She thought. What could have happened? She wiggled her toes. Everything feels normal and I can¡¯t see any tubes or equipment. Jenny heard a soft chime and sat up in the pristine white bed. She pressed her back against the wall and clutched the sheet up to her chin as a glowing white orb materialized in the centre of the room. The chime sounded again, and a soft female voice filled the space ¡°Welcome, Jenny, to The Place Between¡± 2 - The Place Between Jenny sat in stunned silence, staring at the glowing orb which was pulsing with light. ¡°Jenny?¡± the voice (the orb?) prompted ¡°What is thi¡­? Where did you¡­? How is thi¡­?!¡± Jenny stammered. I¡¯ve finally lost my mind completely she thought. ¡°You haven¡¯t lost your mind; you are merely moving into the next stage of your existence. That is what this place is for¡± replied the voice. ¡°I understand this is a lot for you to deal with, but you should be very honoured, it¡¯s rare that one of us comes in person to speak to a soul in transit¡± ¡°But you¡¯re not here in person, you¡¯re a glowing blob and did you just read my mind?¡± Jenny was starting to panic. ¡°Does this mean I¡¯m dead? You said I¡¯m a soul, right? Does that mean this is the afterlife? What happened to me? I just don¡¯t understand...?¡± ¡°Enough!¡± The orb interrupted, growing larger and brighter, ¡°Enough questions! Earth souls are so needy! Listen to me. Yes, your former life on earth has ended. You died in a heroic manner, which is part of the reason why I am here. You were returning from the supermarket with a surprising amount of cheese, a pack of pita bread, two jars of chickpeas, four rolls of toilet paper, and a snickers, when you were killed in a car crash.¡± That doesn¡¯t sound heroic, but that sounds like my shopping list thought Jenny. ¡°The heroic part is that you pushed a boy out of the way of an oncoming car. You¡¯ll be pleased to hear that he is fine and should go on to live a full life thanks to you.¡± Jenny twisted the sheet in her hands nervously, ¡°I¡¯m sorry this is just a lot for me to take in. So, I¡¯m dead. Finished.¡± She looked up at the orb, ¡°What happens next? Afterlife? Eternal peace? Re-incarnation? I¡¯m not religious but I¡¯m willing to adjust my beliefs if that¡¯s required.¡± Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Yes, well most human beliefs are incorrect. Souls generally dissipate into the ether after death. But sometimes, when a special soul comes along, an overseer like me can step in. You are a soul full of potential, and you lost your life before your allotted time due to a heroic action, therefore I have deemed you worthy and will transplant your soul into a world in my demesne. You shall take up my mantel and become a great hero.¡± Jenny¡¯s scalp started to itch. ¡°Hang on, what do you mean a hero? I¡¯m not cut out for that kind of thing; I think you¡¯ve made a mistake. I¡¯m not some kind of hero. You¡¯re making it sound like I need to be some kind of knight or paladin and that is really not for me. I am not a fighter, and I really don¡¯t respond well to authority. If I¡¯m going to be in some kind of fantasy game world, I¡¯d rather be a craftsman or a village healer or something, nothing high profile!¡± ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, you¡¯ll learn new skills and work up to being a hero. It is a critically important role; the world is imbalanced and requires strong mages on the side of light. Your soul fits the profile and that is rare. Frankly I am disappointed in your attitude. I am here before you go into the transit chamber to offer you guidance and lead you to choose the skills and gifts that will serve our purpose the best and you are being churlish and immature. Jenny shrank back on the bed, startled by the sudden pressure in the room, as if lightning were about to strike. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I just¡­I¡¯m not what you¡¯re looking for.¡± ¡°Well, you are what I have. So, enough foolishness! Now concentrate, we don¡¯t have much time before you need to enter the chamber and make your decisions. I cannot join you, as the choices must be made of your own free will. Once you are reborn, I can assist you to a certain degree. In order for that to happen you must choose Apostle of Light as your title. As a Transferred Soul, you can choose three titles and a variety of skills will open up for each title. Hero should be your second, and for the third I would prefer Battle-Mage, but if you must be difficult then I suppose you could take Healer. The skills are fairly self-explanatory, as for your appearance, I would recommend either full elf or demi elf as they have the highest innate mana. I do prefer my followers to be golden haired, but I will not insist upon it. My time is up. Remember what I said, Jenny. I suspect you will not remember this meeting until you come of age. Do not let me down!¡± With those final words the orb shrank down to a spec and then disappeared. Jenny sat in shocked silence in the blank room as her mind churned through the information that had just been dumped on her. That was awful, there is absolutely no way I am going along with all this. All I ever wanted was a quiet life. An Apostle-Hero-Mage?! Fat chance! How can I get around this, do I just pick the opposite of what she said? Dark apostle? No, that could definitely backfire. I suppose I will just have to see what¡¯s available and go with things that seem normal. Maybe I can be a craftsman! That would be nice. Stupid ball of light. Why did I catch her fancy? In what world am I the one you pick for this kind of thing! Jenny¡¯s considerations were interrupted by a metallic clunk and the wall across from her sank down into the floor, revealing a dark room with a large screen upon which was written in large blue letters, DON¡¯T BE SCARED. 3 - Decisions ¡°Not sure that message is having quite the effect you intend¡± murmured Jenny as she wrapped the sheet around her shoulders and slid off the bed. It didn¡¯t give her much protection, but she was wearing raggedy pyjamas and no bra, so every extra layer of clothing made her feel better. Even if it was just a sheet cloak. ¡°I really can¡¯t believe this is happening¡± she sighed as she crossed the threshold into the dark room. ¡°Here goes nothing!¡± YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN TO BE REBORN IN A NEW WORLD. CONGRATULATIONS! As the new words appeared on the screen, a small firework went off in the background. Wow, who made this, an eight-year-old?¡± thought Jenny. YOU WILL NOW CHOOSE TITLES AND SKILLS THAT WILL SERVE YOU IN YOUR NEW LIFE. TRAVELLING SOULS RECEIVE SEVERAL ADVANTAGES SO USE THEM WELL. YOU MAY CHOOSE THREE TITLES. THE FIRST TITLE IS RELATED TO YOUR PURPOSE. THE SECOND TITLE TO YOUR OCCUPATION. THE THIRD TITLE TO YOUR MAGIC. CHOOSE WELL. Okay so this is happening, Jenny gulped when suddenly the entire wall was full of lists of titles, it was completely overwhelming, she felt dizzy even trying to read them. What do I do, how I am supposed to choose titles that will somehow guide my new life. I know nothing about where I¡¯m going, Will I be a baby or an adult when I get there. I am missing some seriously important information. She closed her eyes and tried to block out the baffling quantity of options she was facing. So, I know I don¡¯t want to do what the orb wants, so that is step one. I am going to build a life for myself, I will find skills and titles that will help me. I am going to be alright. I want to live a quiet life where I make things and read and sleep. I am going to choose my own path. Jenny gave herself a mental shake and took a deep breath before opening her eyes and staring up at the lists in front of her. A huge number of gods were listed, covering every aspect of life, but there were several god-free options that seemed vaguely promising: Scholar, Creator, Artist. But then she saw it, Maker. That seems like a good one, creator could be too impactful, but making things, that surely would lead to craft skills! She scanned further down the list, there were several intriguing options, but Jenny was wary of anything that could lead to unforeseen difficulties. She nodded and reached up to try and tap on Maker but nothing happened. Voice activated perhaps? She thought. ¡°Maker¡± she said softly, ¡°I choose Maker.¡± FIRST TITLE MAKER, PLEASE CONFIRM. ¡°Yes, Maker.¡± CONFIRMED. CHOOSE SECOND TITLE. TITLES CAN BE FILTERED. ¡°Oh, that is helpful¡± muttered Jenny as a new wall of text appeared in front of her. ¡°Filter all craft related occupations please.¡± She was very surprised to see a single word appear in front of her. Crafter. Well, I suppose that makes that choice easier thought Jenny. I suppose you can get specific in the skills section. Hey, it works for me! ¡°I choose Crafter¡± she declared. SECOND TITLE CRAFTER, PLEASE CONFIRM. ¡°Yes, Crafter.¡± CONFIRMED. CHOOSE THIRD TITLE. The list was shorter this time. Various kinds of Mage, Elementalists, Summoners, even Necromancer was an option. Ok, so this is where it gets tricky Jenny frowned at the list. Everything seemed potentially dangerous. I could pick healer, but since the bitchy orb said that was an option that makes it much less appealing to me. She pondered. Druid? That would be nature magic I suppose. Or some kind of animal magic. Ugh, I really don¡¯t want to be drafted into some kind of war, and any of these powers could be used like that. She stared at her options, growing increasingly annoyed. ¡°If I hadn¡¯t met that orb, I would be so excited to try one of these. Maybe Healer, or Elementalist. But now I am so loath to choose something that could be used against me...¡± she trailed off, glaring at the list. She read through it a few times. Ok it has to be generalist. That must be the least interesting option, I don¡¯t see what else I can choose. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡°Generalist¡± Jenny said sullenly. THIRD TITLE GENERALIST, PLEASE CONFIRM. ¡°Generalist.¡± CONFIRMED. MAKER, CRAFTER, GENERALIST CONFIRMED. ASSIGN ATTRIBUTES. YOU HAVE TEN ADDITIONAL POINTS TO ASSIGN.
STRENGTH 10
INTELLIGENCE 10
DEXTERITY 10
CHARISMA 10
LUCK 10
Ooh now it¡¯s getting good! Thought Jenny. I wonder what the average is. Is it normal to start at ten points or is this already boosted? They are all important traits. I need dexterity and strength for crafting, along with intelligence. Luck is always good. Charisma is mostly irrelevant for me, so I¡¯ll ignore that one. Two to each of the others? Then maybe the last two to intelligence? Or luck? But how do you quantify luck? Lucky for who? Me hopefully, but still¡­ Jenny stared at the list as she tried to guess what distribution would serve her best in her new life. ¡°Four points to luck.¡± She decided. ¡°Two points to strength, intelligence and dexterity¡± She finished. Hoping her stats would keep her safe. The numbers on the screen changed accordingly. PLEASE CONFIRM ATTRIBUTES. ¡°I confirm¡± CONFIRMED YOU WILL NOW CHOOSE SKILLS ACCORDING TO YOUR SECOND AND THIRD TITLES. YOU WILL CHOOSE A TOTAL OF SIX SKILLS AT THIS POINT. AT LEAST TWO SKILLS FOR EACH TITLE. SHOWING ALL RELEVANT SKILLS. Once again the wall was filled with options and Jenny took a step back to try and take them all in. ¡°Filter skills for Generalist¡± she requested. The list halved. Two of these to start with. Let¡¯s see what we have. I don¡¯t want anything too powerful or flashy, but it would be good to get something useful here. She went through the list carefully, there were many options that seemed powerful, each specific element was listed, along with animal taming, summoning, cleansing and battle magic. I don¡¯t want these she thought, searching the list further, Aha! Appraise, I¡¯ve seen that in books, that always ends up being useful. I¡¯ll definitely take that one. Now time to find my second option. Jenny was tempted by several of the options on the list but restrained herself. Daily magic. That will hopefully cover the basics. Daily magic and Appraise, I¡¯m happy with those. They seem a bit boring, but I¡¯d rather be safe and inconspicuous. ¡°Filter skills for Crafter¡± The list changed and Jenny smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. Ok so I want everything on the wall. But I can choose up to four of them that¡¯s still awesome! Ok immediate frontrunners, woodwork, metalwork, artist. I¡¯m not sure about the sewing options, I never really managed to finish my sewing projects at home, but maybe a general needlework skill would be worth having, if nothing else I could make my own clothes. Hmm Stonemason? Architect? Blacksmith? Also very interesting. I never got to try those before, maybe this is my chance! Wild Crafter? I wonder what that could be. Mage Crafts is going to be a definite no for me. Same with Rune Craft and Body Craft. Culinary crafts, is that cooking or making pots and pans, how strange! Some of these skills are much more specific than others. Presumably jewellery making and blacksmithing both come under metal working even though they are also listed as separate skills. Jenny was bouncing on her toes in excitement, overwhelmed by all the delights on offer. ¡°Ok I¡¯ve got it¡± She declared. ¡°Daily Magic, Appraise, Woodwork, Metalwork, Artist, Needlework. CONFIRM SKILLS; DAILY MAGIC, APPRAISE, WOODWORK, METALWORK, ARTIST, NEEDLEWORK. ¡°Confirmed¡± Replied Jenny, grinning. YOU WILL CHOOSE YOUR RACE AND APPEARANCE. A list of species appeared on the screen, each one accompanied by a small picture of Jenny as that species. The majority were at least half human, the other races being elf, dwarf, beastkin, dryad, merfolk, and demon. She was drawn to the demi beastkin, smiling at the idea of having fluffy ears and a tail. But eventually she decided. ¡°Demi Dryad¡± she said. The other options vanished from the screen, and she was left looking at herself as a half dryad. Her appearance didn¡¯t change much, she was the same height and had the same shape. Her curly hair had slightly darkened to a chestnut brown and her eyes had changed from blue to a beautiful emerald green. Jenny pulled a face and laughed at her new self as it copied her. CONFIRM RACE, DEMI DRYAD. ¡°Yes, I choose Demi Dryad¡± DO YOU WISH TO MAKE ANY ADDITIONAL CHANGES TO YOUR APPEARANCE? Jenny frowned at her reflection, remembering a lifetime of insecurities. She¡¯d always been tall and sturdy. And although as an adult she had managed to let go of a few of her issues, she was only human. I could change, she thought to herself, make myself smaller and slimmer, with a straighter nose. Ditch the freckles and the knobbly knees. Have glowing skin and silky hair. She looked doubtfully down at her body, still wrapped in the sheet, and then back up to her reflection. Her hair looked shiny and healthy, she looked strong and well. She liked her freckles and her nose had character. I feel like me, she thought, I think that¡¯s important. Everything is changing, I don¡¯t want my reflection to be a stranger too. ¡°No I don¡¯t¡± She responded, shocked at her own assurance. FINAL CONFIRMATION RACE DEMI DRYAD TITLES MAKER CRAFTER GENERALIST SKILLS APPRAISE DAILY MAGIC ARTIST METALWORK NEEDLEWORK WOODWORK ATTRIBUTES
STRENGTH 12
INTELLIGENCE 12
DEXTERITY 12
CHARISMA 10
LUCK 14
¡°Yes I confirm.¡± CONFIRMED Everything went dark. 4 - Leora Leora hated going to the shrine. She always had. When she was little it was easier. Yes, there would be stares and comments, but often she¡¯d be given sweets or little gifts by the priests. When she turned eight everything changed. Suddenly she was expected to spend every morning there, alternating between sitting in the cramped and dusty classroom learning the doctrine of light with the trainee priests, who were all way older than her, and spending the mornings being bashed around on the training fields. Instead of treats, the senior Clerics were more likely to assign her chores, or insist she join them in the chapel to pray. Nearly four years later, all she had to show from it was an extremely biased education, a grounding in the use of various weapons (despite not showing any particular talent as a fighter), the ability to make herself as inconspicuous as possible, and a bubbling resentment for every person involved. As her twelfth birthday approached, and along with it, her coming of age ceremony, the pressure had only increased. Her precious free afternoons had been lost, in favour of more praying. Whispers about what her titles would be and the bright new future she would herald were becoming more insistent. Even her few friends from the shrine¡¯s orphanage were behaving strangely. Leora looked down at the white circle on the back of her hand. One little mark makes such a big difference. She sighed. Why me. Why does it have to be me. Why can¡¯t I just be normal. She looked up at the beautiful stained glass windows which towered over her, casting rays of coloured light onto the white stone floors. Her favourite activity at the shrine had always been to visit the Blessed Glaziers who made beautiful glass sculptures, sun catchers, and stained glass. She even had a small piece of stained glass hanging in her window at home that she had made herself. ¡°Leora¡± chastised her mother quietly, ¡°do not get distracted!¡± Leora glanced across at her mother kneeling next to her. She had perfect posture and long smooth golden hair which glistened in the light. Her smooth face twitched into a frown as she caught Leora looking at her. Her eyes were an icy blue, and just as cold. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Leora quickly straightened her back and lowered her head, staring at her clasped hands. Her unruly brown curls tumbled forward, blocking her face from her mother¡¯s view. I¡¯m never going to be what she wants me to be. How would that even be possible! Also, who adopts a child just because of a prophecy? She hates children, everyone knows that. She would far rather be back on the battlefield with Father than here. Now because of this stupid ceremony she comes here and doesn¡¯t even pretend to be interested in me as a person, just my progress. Ugh, it would be so much better if she stayed away and I could live with Nana Clara and Grandad Josef. Then I could go to the forge with Sammy, and practice carving with Grandad. It¡¯s always so fun over there. Leora sighed again. Things will just get worse after next week. Lucas went to the front when he was fourteen. I can¡¯t imagine I¡¯ll get to stay back any later than that. Leora¡¯s brother Lucas was ten years older than her. He was the biological child of her parents and was constantly held up as a shining example. He, like her parents, was a demi elf, blessed with strong battle magic, and was currently assisting their father who was General based at the fort in Aruen. Leora¡¯s mother was a Battle Mage and Elementalist, she led one of the troops of mages who were fighting the forsworn in the south, but recently had brought her troops further went to join the base at Aruen. Nothing had been officially announced, but it seems like this was not a tactical move but rather a necessary retreat after a serious defeat in the foothills of Marom. Leora had heard some of the priests discussing it, and had seen the requests for more supplies which had overwhelmed the logistics office. Leora surreptitiously shifted her weight to stop her legs from falling asleep. The bells chimed the next hour and finally her mother smoothly rose to her feet, genuflected once, and glided out of the shrine. Leora scrambled to follow her, staggering as she hurried back down the aisle in her wake. As they came out into the bustling courtyard, Leora¡¯s mother turned to her with an unreadable expression. ¡°I have several things to achieve, you are to return home and read your scriptures. Please ensure that your garments are ready for tomorrow. I shall return after nightfall so you must light the candles.¡± With that she spun around and strode off into the crowd. Leora stared after her for a moment, before she also hurried down the steps and weaved her way through the busy throng. 5 - Market day Market day was Leora¡¯s absolute favourite. She loved the bustle and the noise, and all the strange and wonderful things on offer. Although she had very limited funds, she would spend hours browsing through the stalls, asking questions and chatting with the merchants and craftsmen. As she weaved her way through the crowds, she caught sight of a familiar figure up ahead. Sammy, Josef and Clara¡¯s older son, was a hulking great thirty-five-year-old who had recently taken over his father¡¯s forge. He was used to Leora hanging around and had always treated her like a little sister. He was a quiet and gentle man, despite his large frame, and would listen to her stories and news in a way that made Leora feel incredibly interesting and important. Leora grinned as she hurried closer, before sneaking up close in the hopes of shocking a good reaction out of him. Just as she was about to pounce, he turned around and reached out a hand to block her before she could jump him. ¡°Hey Chicky,¡± Sammy tugged her in for a quick hug, ¡°all done at the shrine?¡± he asked smiling down at her. ¡°Yep¡± replied Leora as she peered around him to see what he had with him, ¡°Were you buying or selling?¡± she asked. ¡°Neither. Just dropped off some deliveries and wanted to hear the latest news.¡± ¡°Oh, was there anything new from the merchants?¡± Leora asked quickly, ¡°There is definitely something going on. Mother didn¡¯t say anything, but I can tell that the priests are concerned.¡± ¡°Nothing for you to worry about kiddo. A war that has been going on longer than either of us has been alive is not something you need to be concerned with.¡± Sammy ruffled her hair, ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m more interested to hear what you have been getting up to. Dad showed me the little dog you carved him, great stuff!¡± ¡°Really, he showed you!¡± Leora bounced on her toes, ¡°it did turn out pretty well, his proportions are a bit off, but his face is cute right?¡± ¡°A fine figure of a beast. Dad was really impressed with the fur detail. I am expecting a Leora original for my next birthday too!¡± he informed her with a nudge. Leora¡¯s face fell. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll be able to make one next year Sammy. I¡¯ll probably be sequestered in the stupid shrine.¡± ¡°Hey now, none of that please missy!¡± Sammy wrapped a heavy arm around her shoulder. ¡°I still think you will get an incredible title like Queen Artisan or Ruler of the City, and then we shall all bow down to you and you will just lie in a hammock eating sweets while the finest materials are brought for you to craft with.¡± ¡°Indeed, and you shall be my personal blacksmith extraordinaire and make me a stunning throne¡± She stuck her nose in the air and waved a hand regally, then giggled and leaned into Sammy¡¯s embrace. ¡°As if titles like those exist.¡± She glanced up at him. ¡°Won¡¯t you please tell me what your ceremony was like?¡± She pleaded, giving exaggerated puppy dog eyes and adding in a wobbling lower lip for effect. ¡°Now Leora, you know the rules. The ceremony and any titles you receive are to be kept strictly private. Plus, you are definitely more prepared than I was considering all of your time at the shrine. You will be fine. And even if you get skills or a title that don¡¯t feel quite right, you¡¯ll see how it fits in for you as you get older.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want my life to be decided for me by some celestial busybody¡± complained Leora. She was immediately shushed by Sammy who glanced nervously at the people around them. ¡°Behave yourself!¡± he chided, ¡°you¡¯ll get us both in trouble if you talk like that.¡± Leora hung her head in shame, she knew the risks of speaking out against the gods, ¡°sorry¡± she muttered. ¡°It¡¯s fine Chicky. You just need to be careful. Now let¡¯s cheer you up. What do you feel like seeing today?¡± He asked. Her head shot up and she clutched at his arm with both hands, ¡°Do you have time? Will you take me to the main forge?¡± she asked, almost breathless with excitement. He snorted, ¡°of course it¡¯s the main forge you want to see. I¡¯m in the forge all day, and now even in my time off I¡¯m being dragged back to the furnace.¡± He sighed before smiling down at her, ¡°Yes, we¡¯ll go see what they¡¯re up to. Do you want to go via the weavers or the woodworkers?¡± ¡°Weavers please¡± Leora replied, ¡°I¡¯ve been doing lots of woodwork with granddad. Plus then we can say hi to Penelope.¡± She elbowed Sammy in the side and laughed to see the flush in his cheeks. Leora continued to tease Sammy as they made their way through the market to the fabric district, where she fell into a distracted silence. The whole street was a riot of colour, with beautiful tapestries displayed on the walls, brightly woven fabrics suspended as a canopy blocking the harsh glare of the afternoon sun, and tables full of scarfs and clothes from all around the country. She pulled free of Sammy¡¯s arm and went to look at a stall she had never noticed before. It was full of folded piles of the finest lace fabric she had ever seen. The threads were iridescent, and it looked like it was spun from moonlight. Leora stuffed her hands deep into her pockets to try to resist touching the fascinating material and turned to examine a beautiful wall hanging. It was sprinkled with tiny pearls and appeared to be moving even though there was no breeze. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Sunlight on the water¡± She turned around to see who was speaking and opened her eyes wide. A petite woman with long black hair stood behind her, smiling wryly at Leora¡¯s shock. ¡°I take it you haven¡¯t met any Merfolk before." Leora shook her head slowly. "My name is Minato. I suppose this is quite far inland, I am something of an anomaly even among my own kind.¡± She raised a pale hand and spread her fingers to reveal webbing between the lowest joints. ¡°The priests here don¡¯t take too kindly to those of us who carry the more visible ¡®beastly¡¯ traits. Most of my brethren would struggle to pass even the briefest inspection. Fortunately, it¡¯s not as if they want to spend weeks away from their home waters. I, however, yearn for adventure and beauty. So, I travel the land, as much as I am able, which has led me to this place, and to you, little sprite.¡± ¡°Now come here and let me show you some of the other little things I¡¯ve got.¡± The demi-merwoman gestured back to the table and started shifting the piles of glistening cloth. Leora glanced back into the street and caught sight of Sammy who was gazing adoringly at Penelope as she finished up with a customer, before turning back to Minato and the ever-increasing pile of fabric. ¡°I¡¯ve got something perfect for you here little sprite, I just need to find it.¡± ¡°Miss Minato, this is all so beautiful! I have never seen lace this fine, it must take hours to make!¡± Leora gazed in awe at the glistening fabric all around them. ¡°Yes, well it is something of a trade secret of course, but this is the work of many hands, I am just the one who is able to present it to the wider world. Aha! I¡¯ve got it! Here, take this.¡± A small square of lace was thrust into Leora¡¯s hands. It was woven of a thread much finer than any silk she had seen before, and each individual thread glinted with different shades of the palest blue and green. It had a border of twisted vines and plants with tiny knots for flowers and berries, but the centre of the square was harder to identify. A faint and irregular pattern was dappled across the surface. Leora stroked the fine stitches with a feather light touch. ¡°I couldn¡¯t even dream of making something this beautiful, it feels like its¡¯s woven from magic itself!¡± She offered it back to Minato who was looking at her with a fond smile. ¡°No, no little sprite, that one is meant for you. A thank you for appreciating the beauty of our work. And a reminder for you of the beauty to be found in the wider world.¡± Leora attempted to protest but was pushed away by Minato who laughed and assured her it was just a small token. By this point Sammy had finished chatting with Penelope and was hovering at the entrance to the stall gazing at the examples around him. He stepped forward and reached into his wallet, but he too was rebuffed. ¡°It¡¯s a gift for her, it is rude to refuse¡± insisted Minato. Leora was still stuttering her thanks as Sammy started to pull her back out of the stall. ¡°Thank you, Madam¡± Sammy bowed his head slightly, ¡°These are true marvels. We are indeed blessed to see such work. I wish you well on your travels.¡± Leora carefully folded the precious lace and tucked it into her bodice for safe keeping. She waited until Minato was out of sight before launching into a barrage of questions. ¡°She was a demi-mer Sammy, did you see? She was so beautiful and had webbed fingers! Did you look at her fingers? How can you make such incredibly fine lace with webbed fingers, wouldn¡¯t that make it harder? What is the thread made of? Have you ever met a demi-mer Sammy? Have you been to the eastern sea?¡± ¡°Whoa, slow down there, kiddo!¡± Sammy interrupted when Leora paused to take a breath. ¡°I am not any kind of expert on the merfolk, I listened to the same stories mum told you, so I have no new information to offer. It was amazing though. Imagine, a demi-mer travelling this far inland! Their work isn¡¯t particularly popular here, but it can fetch a very pretty penny in Brunnen, or any of the northern towns. Last winter, I saw a trader charging crazy money for pieces not much bigger than yours. You¡¯re a lucky girl! Mum would love to see it, but be careful to keep it hidden, I can¡¯t imagine the Shrine would approve.¡± He glanced doubtfully down at Leora, who had a dreamy smile as she stroked the front of her dress where the lace was hidden. He sighed and patted her on the back. ¡°Come on, you, we need to head to the forge if you want to see what they¡¯re working on before they finish for the day.¡± Leora nodded and sped up, she could bask in her treasure later. ¡°Last time I was there, Master Oskar let me watch him do the detail work on these huge iron gates for some bigwigs¡¯ mansion. It was amazing, he had five assistants with him because there was so much to do! Oh, and Master Hans was working on an amazing sword for an elf in Eliue, but he wouldn¡¯t tell me what metal he was using, said it was a secret that he''d got from the dwarves. His forge was incredibly hot though, no one was allowed to come near.¡± She skipped ahead of Sammy and then turned to face him, ¡°do you ever want to work at the main forge? Or are you happy at Grandad Josef¡¯s?¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯d have to make a masterwork that was recognized by the guild before I would be considered. My magic smithing will have to improve a lot before that happens.¡± He shook his head as Leora almost tripped over the pavement. ¡°I¡¯m happy where I am. We¡¯ll see what happens in the future.¡± Leora nodded thoughtfully before spinning round. The mist of steam rising ahead in irregular plumes was accompanied by metallic clangs and shouted instructions as they entered the square which opened up into the main forge of the city of Lichten. 6 - The Main Forge The main forge was officially called the forge of Svarog, named after a facet of the god of Light responsible for metal work, but no one called it that, the name was too dwarfish to be acceptable. It was also misnamed in that it was not just one forge, there were multiple forges that branched off the square itself, which was used to display completed works. As Leora and Sammy arrived, an imposing elf was sorting through a selection of swords while a sweating apprentice stood by, wringing his hands. ¡°My Lord, I assure you they are of the highest possible quality and compatibility considering the timeline we were given,¡± stuttered the man, as the elf tested the balance and weight of the blade. ¡°Bring your master.¡± Demanded the elf, as he swung the sword in complicated figures moving faster and faster until it was just a flashing blur. As the apprentice scurried away, Leora stood watching with begrudging interest. She was used to being horrendously outmatched by the demi elves in her weapons training, but she had never seen a full elf fight before. The difference was remarkable. He whirled the sword for several minutes with no sign of tiring, until he came to a sudden stop and turned to face the approaching smith. ¡°It is not as good. I need more swords like the previous one you made for me.¡± He demanded, abruptly. ¡°As I told your servant My Lord, that metal came from a sample I received from a dwarf mine that is no longer accessible due to the fighting in the south. I have never seen or used a metal like it, so I am unable to provide you with something similar. If and when more becomes available, I will happily forge more swords for you, but until then, these are what I can offer. They are all fine blades and should work very well with your magic.¡± The elf stared impassively at Hans as he returned the sword to the collection on the rough-hewn table. ¡°Very well, but I shall require your assurance that I will be the one to purchase the weapons you make of this new metal, I find that it suits me very well.¡± Hans reluctantly agreed and the transaction was completed as Leora wandered off to observe some of the other work going on. Sammy¡¯s forge was usually full of household tools that he was making and repairing, pots and pans, gardening tools, small knives and the like. The main forge was full of weapons: spearheads, arrows, shields, swords of every kind. Two teams were even working on what appeared to be a battering ram. Usually about half of the work going on was for religious paraphernalia and artistic works such as the fine gates, or beautiful metal sculptures. All of that had obviously been put aside in favour of churning out armaments. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Leora frowned slightly as she walked around the square, finally reaching Master Oskar¡¯s area where she found him sat on his bench, while his two apprentices were carefully sharpening axe blades behind him. ¡°Greetings Leora,¡± Oskar smiled and patted the bench next to him, ¡°come to keep an old man company, have you?¡± Leora grinned at him and took a seat, accepting the slightly melted toffee he dug out of his pocket to offer her. ¡°I see you tricked young Samuel into bringing you here. That¡¯s good, we live in complicated times, its best for a fine young lady like yourself not to wander the city alone.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± Leora asked, ¡°I¡¯ve come here on my own loads of times!¡± ¡°Be that as it may,¡± chided Oskar, ¡°I would be remiss not to warn you of the dangers you might face.¡± He looked pointedly across the square where the elf lord was supervising the packing of his swords. ¡°Are these all being sent to the elves or to Aruen?¡± she asked gesturing to the weapons being collected throughout the square. ¡°A lot of them will be going with Katherine down to Aruen, she¡¯s been made chief armourer there and was concerned by the equipment at the fort.¡± Leora perked up and searched the square for a glimpse of the only female master smith in Lichten. ¡°Sorry little one, she is already at the muster point outside the walls. This stuff is being sent out to her and then they¡¯ll set off tomorrow.¡± He let out a gusty sigh, ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to things getting back to normal in here!¡± Oscar stood up and waved Leora along, ¡°now come and have a look at what the lads are doing. A battle axe is a difficult thing to get right, you know, and I must say these are two fine specimens of their kind!¡± It was nearly an hour later when Leora finally allowed Sammy to pull her away to head back through the city. They walked in companiable silence as Leora thought over the events of the day. ¡°For my last full day of freedom, I think it¡¯s been pretty good¡± she declared to Sammy as they headed into the neighbourhood which abutted the shrine. ¡°Ach, I wish you wouldn¡¯t talk like that.¡± He objected. ¡°Most people are excited for their coming of age. You¡¯ll find out what magic you have, you¡¯ll be stronger and quicker, and you¡¯ll have skills that will lead you down your path. You¡¯ll know more about yourself. It¡¯s not some prison sentence! I know you are worried about the prophecy, but remember, it never said you were going to become some terrifying warrior, just that you were chosen by the light. That could mean so many things.¡± He looked earnestly down at her, hoping she felt reassured. ¡°Come on we need to get you home before night falls, I¡¯m sure your mother is waiting.¡± ¡°No, she already told me I needed to light the candles and prepare for tomorrow because she would be late home.¡± Leora kicked a small stone and watched it bounce on the smooth paving slabs. Sammy didn¡¯t know what to say. The day before your ceremony was meant to be a time of celebration and reflection. ¡°Thanks for today, Sammy.¡± Leora turned and hugged him, burying her face in his jacket for a moment, before turning and rushing away up to the gate which led to the row of narrow white houses where non-ecclesiastical members of the church hierarchy lived. ¡°Good luck!¡± he called after her, watching until she safely entered her house and he saw the candle in the window flicker to life. ¡°Light protect us¡± he murmured, before turning and heading back down the quiet street.