There were plenty of sights to see in the city of Anik.

  Plenty of wonders, plenty of horrors. I had likely seen more than most despite only being here for little over six months, but that came with the territory of having nowhere to call home. Sure, some could say the hunters guild encapsulated my new routine but…they’d be wrong. I had visited the slums plenty more than I needed to, entirely for the purpose of social comforts, and on occasion I’d see the odd equilibrium of western Anik.

  Visiting Alvir for magic training also gave me a decent rapport with the richer portion of the place, though mostly as a pleasant mascot. Toning down the snark was a pain in my ass, but better not to foment a poor reputation with the people who had legitimate power. So some might wonder why I’d decided to take Argyle to visit the south?

  Considering letting the boy live in his polite fiction would be more conducive to manipulation than forcing him to face reality. The desire to coddle the fool was smothered by the desire for someone with a real say to see.

  So, despite him having lived the entirety of his life within the protection of those walls, I ended up acting as a tour guide to display the downtrodden.

  He had stopped to stare at a shivering woman holding the body of her baby close to her chest. Tears sliding down her gaunt cheeks. The babe didn’t seem to have passed from hunger, though it was skinny. From the complexion of the body I guessed it succumbed to winter's grip.

  Not an uncommon fate, but it was a sad sight.

  It was more than that to Argyle, I could tell by the way he refused to even blink. Just taking in the sight with a kind of defeated horror. We likely could have stayed there the whole day considering his guard (who was pretending to be our father) didn’t seem willing to break the boy's stupor.

  Perhaps that would’ve been enough, but I wasn’t going to take that chance.

  So I put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “We have more to see, Argyle.”

  He stared a little longer before nodding and walking beside me with a distant gaze. I led him along, greeting a few who recognized me and engaging in pleasant conversation that seemed to make the boy flinch. Maybe one of the kids saying they caught a rat to eat wasn’t the best of impressions for the noble.

  Or maybe it had the exact effect I had hoped for, only time would tell, in that moment my only concern was to play the presenter. Funny, the End was soon, and the chances Argyle had for survival, let alone maintaining his authority, were slim to none. What I was doing wasn’t likely to have any lasting changes for the city, so why did I bother?

  Maybe I wanted him to see the truth of things. Maybe I didn’t want to coddle him. Maybe our friendship by that point meant a layer of honesty that I couldn’t escape from.

  Who knows? Who cares?

  We walked, we witnessed, and we walked some more.

  Hammer up, hammer down.

  It had been a while but technique wasn’t so easily forgotten, not when it was forged deep into who I was. I couldn’t find a blade that came up to my standards with the coin I had to spare, not that coin was a problem. It was more that the smiths I could afford went the route of mass production, proper blades of quality were made by smiths that truly couldn’t give a fuck for the health of my coin purse. I even had the curiosity to take a look at the few enchanters in the city. I swear those bastards must’ve bled gold with how much they charged.

  So here I was, paying for the privilege of a smithy and their materials. Same place I went to for the festival too! That was intentional, the head smith was confident that I wouldn’t fuck around with his tools like an idiot after witnessing my moderate competence.

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  Little did he know I hadn’t forged a sword before. I had gotten close, real close. But the goblins interrupted my metallurgic education with their raid. Now I was taking my next step in the craft in some random smithy I had no connection to.

  It was bittersweet, but I had to get them proper weapons, and a commission would take too much trust in quality. The smiths around the city were definitely more competent than me, but that didn’t mean they’d put in the effort to produce something better than I could. Even if I paid them an exorbitant amount for the service.

  These were admittedly quite flimsy reasons not to do a special commission but…I wanted to make a sword. It was a necessity for my soul. So here I was, going over the first round of beveling in the thick as fuck attire smiths wear to reduce the chance of lighting on fire.

  Hammer up, hammer down.

  It was a little harder than I was used to, the specific muscles incorporated into the process having gotten weaker through disuse in this specific motion. Not to say I’d gotten weaker, just laterally stronger? I didn’t know, I didn’t like admitting that I’d lost some muscle mass so I was compensating in my mind with my increase in combat skill. Strength of a different persuasion was all it was!

  In that sense I was much stronger than when I first came, what a nice thought to distract myself with while I forced my muscles to repair with mana. Muscle wise I could probably spend a few months and get back up to par, but time was precious and better spent either on magical training or sparring. That and the memories when smithing weren’t something I enjoyed confronting.

  What was once a soothing rhythm had turned into a thing of quiet sorrow.

  Well, not very quiet but the point still stands.

  I turned over the blade and started to bevel the other side into perfection. Once I was done with that alongside another, we’d be ready to take on the sewers. Every swing felt heavier with the ever burgeoning burden of context.

  But it was okay, I just had to keep hammering, damned to my worries.

  Because the alternative was consigning them to death, and I wasn’t so heartless as to let them face it unprepared. So on I went, each swing resonating with something deep in my soul as the imp watched on in silence.

  I didn’t know how the bathhouses kept the waters steaming during winters, assuming it was some blend of magic and mechanical application, but gods be damned if it wasn’t a blessing amidst all the cold. I sunk deeper into the waters in contentment, almost bringing my nose under the liquid heaven I was submerged in. Beside me Riri was doing the same, except her bliss seemed much more intense than mine.

  Aira must’ve had quite the entertaining sight to delight in with the both of us so gone to the worries of the world.

  “Enjoying this a little too much, aren’t ya, Yir?” my mentor chuckled.

  I didn’t even bother glaring at her, just bringing my mouth out of the water to respond. “Someone who’s experienced this fuck-off blessing all their lives has no right to judge me on how I should enjoy the experience!”

  Aira rolled her eyes. “Riri I can understand, considering it’s her first time and the weather. But you’ve been here enough where it shouldn’t be a big deal.” Aira shrugged. “Not my fault you're openly displaying your country bumpkin origins.”

  Riri let out a series of bubbles that I interpreted as a chuckle. This time I did glare, which only seemed to delight the girl further. I glared harder.

  “So what’s the plan?” Aira pivoted. “Just go on over and kill another Muri-Ursi? Present the head to Halsin and hope he approves of their apprenticeship? You have to know he’ll think you did all the work.”

  “There’re plenty of rumors around my training these fools. The hunt is just a formality at this point.” I waved off.

  “Little arrogant, but I guess your not wrong.”

  Riri bursts from the waters with her hands placed firmly on her hips. “You two! It’s time to enjoy ourselves, not talk about all the lame details of the hunt.”

  “You’ll find that most topics veer towards hunting in the…hunters guild,” Aira said.

  I pointed at Aira while giving Riri a raised brow.

  “I bet Gar doesn’t have to deal with that,” Riri grumbled as she returned to the waters.

  “On the contrary,” Aira said. “Loklan is likely going over all the habits a Muri-Ursi has for the boys benefit. The fool man seemed irrationally excited after watching one of your spars.”

  “They’re pretty good, aren’t they?” I said with quite a bit of pride laced in my voice.

  “About as good as you when you first came,” Aira nodded. “Though…they won’t have the same advantages as you did.”

  “Hm?” Riri tilted her head.

  “It’s nothing, Aira here’s just trying to keep you on your toes,” I said.

  Aira shrugged and returned to basking in the waters.