The clang of metal on metal rang through the narrow alley behind the weaponsmith's district. Arin stood before a squat, soot-covered shop with a crooked sign that read Torven's Tinkers & Weapons. Smoke drifted from the chimney, and the rhythmic pounding inside spoke of a man who lived and breathed steel.
He stepped inside. The temperature rose immediately, the forge's heat wrapping around him like a stifling cloak. Tools hung from every wall, and sparks danced in the air as a thick-armed man hammered a glowing blade on an anvil.
Torven didn't look up. "If it's broken, drop it on the counter. If you're broke, don't waste my time."
Arin pulled the artifact blade from his pack. The hilt was scorched, and the embedded mana crystal was cracked, barely holding a charge. He placed it on the workbench.
Torven finally turned, frowning. "This thing's seen hell."
"Almost died with it," Arin replied.
Torven gave him a long look, then lifted the blade. "Crystal's burned out. Replacing it will cost you sixty silvers. I can reinforce the housing for another ten."
"Forty."
"I said sixty."
"Forty and I help you around the shop for the next three days. No questions, no complaints."
Torven scratched his beard. "You work fast?"
"Faster than most."
The blacksmith grunted. "You've got one day. No screwing up."
Arin spent the next twelve hours hauling metal scraps, sorting enchantment runes, and even bellows-pumping the main forge while Torven reforged a pair of enchanted hunting daggers. His arms ached, his burns stung, and hunger gnawed at his gut—but he didn't stop.
By the time the moon had risen, Torven handed him the repaired artifact blade. It gleamed faintly now, the new crystal pulsing with dormant energy.
"Don't waste it next time," Torven muttered.
"I don't intend to."
Arin stepped out into the night. The weight of the weapon on his back was reassuring—but more than that, it was the knowledge that he had earned this with sweat, not handouts.
He began the long walk home.
Tomorrow, he would take another job. Maybe further out this time—more dangerous, but with higher pay.
And someday… someday he'd afford a real core registration. Access his status. Awaken his magic. Find out what the lightning had left behind.
But first, he had to survive.