Finally it was time for the festival to start, and the itineraries were announced publicly throughout the town. The main street leading from the port to the butchery and the road leading from the port to the town center were the activity areas for stalls displaying goods. The merchants were welcome to keep the stalls through the week, selling to whoever was interested. Meanwhile, the youth combat events would take place on the second and third days. The first day for the merchants gave fighters time to partner with a crafter or merchant, and it provided visitors time to view the stalls without missing any events.

  Typically space was on a first-come, first-served basis, but Master Yoren surprised me by reserving a prime location for my display. Master suspected the presence of his master at this event was due to an interest in me. Therefore, he wanted my display to be prominently available and away from the lower-quality stands. I certainly wasn’t going to argue since my family lived far from the center of town; I would likely be one of the last to arrive and claim a spot. Though the difference between a spot at the town center vs. over at the butcher warehouse was probably only the smell. There wasn't much of a difference in the dirt roads that connect everywhere in town.

  Arriving at my spot, I immediately realized I had forgotten something very fundamental. I forgot to make a stall. I had a wide variety of wands, but I never thought to make even a simple table. Well, it was too late to cry now, but I did have a backup plan. With so much emphasis on always preparing for everything, I had an emergency stock of goods stored in my void space, which included a blanket to lay everything down on.

  I honestly was a bit more than embarrassed being surrounded by fancy, high-quality wooden stands that were almost like mini mobile stores. Meanwhile, I was sitting cross-legged on a blanket with a bucket full of sticks. I hadn’t even gone about making the sticks fancy. I was a stick merchant with a professional chef to my right and the best disciple of a famous blacksmith to my left. I had to think of something to improve my stand. Actually it might be better to call it a ‘sit.’ I decided it needed a sign, so I got a piece of paper and wrote Magic Sticks on it and pinned the paper to the ground with the bucket full of wands.

  I might’ve been playing into the whole joke at that point, but if asked, I could honestly just say, ‘I put all my efforts into my items and forgot the stand.’ My sisters didn’t join me for various reasons, so all I could do was enter a half-vigilant meditation. The first half of the day passed, and almost nobody seemed to notice me, but it seemed my first visitor was the kind no customer service wanted. A Karen, specifically Madam Laina.

  “What is this failure doing here? These spots were reserved for students of prestigious masters, not a reject failure of a healer!” I slowly end my meditation and smile reluctantly and answer her.

  “Madam Laina, I’m a disciple of Master Yoren, and he was kind enough to reserve this spot for me. Would you like me to explain my product?” I can barely get a word out before she’s acting out again. I can already see some kind of sadistic joy forming in causing me trouble.

  “What product! All I see is some bucket full of fireplace tinder. What does some dwarf want from an ugly brat who messes up his skills?” She spat at the ground and perked up as she got a new idea. “Guards! I want my apprentice to set up a stall, and this brat is wasting valuable space! Kick him out!”

  I can already see the struggle in the guard's face. Madam Laina is someone with considerable influence as the chief healer in town, but it didn’t make sense for me to have been in this spot uncontested so long without official approval. Seeing this, I take a chance to see if I can get him out of this awkward situation.

  “Mr. Guard, you can ask one of the event organizers about my spot; they should know about Master Yoren’s arrangement.” I can see him relax with the out I had given him, but that harpy wasn’t done yet.

  “No! I want this trash gone! If you don’t remove him, I’ll have to reconsider teaching your son Guward. With a waste of space like you as his father, clearly my efforts would be wasted on him.” A victorious smile broke out on her face as she turned back towards eager to watch and comment while I’m forcibly removed. Her earlier comments are already drawing in a crowd. The guard comes over to me and quietly apologizes and promises to compensate me.

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  I can only sigh as I fold up my blanket and pick up my bucket. It’s just as I’m about to leave that I can hear a familiar voice at the back of the crowd.

  “I had me apprentice set his stall over here. It's tradition in this town ta make tha presentations a surprise, so I'm nae sure what he has.” The crowd parts before an honor guard of Earthkin in heavy plate armor. Everyone quickly clears a path, and soon I see an elderly Earthkin with lavish golden inlaid runic robes. Upon seeing the empty slot where my blanket had been, he turns to Yoren, expecting some kind of explanation. Yoren, meanwhile, is just as stunned.

  “Lad, why be ye leaving? There's still plenty o' daylight left.” Seeing Master talk to me, the elderly dwarf looks at me, and then his eyes light up seeing the enchanted sticks in the bucket.

  “I'll be, be these sticks enchanted! Is this your new project? This fool doesn't send enough letters. gimme it I want ta see!” I can see the shock of not just the crowd but even his own guards as his eyes shine with greed. I barely have time to offer him a wand before he is holding it right before his eyes, smelling it, and even taking a taste.

  “Master Slate . . .” Yoren tries to restore his master’s sanity while the older dwarf tests every sense the stick can provide. In the next moment he activates the wand, and in front of the tip a small rune manifests, creating a small fire. It was my lighter wand, one of my more convenient tools for starting the family hearth and lighting candles when I was staying up late.

  “Oh, I know this one! enchantment with mana zone an' runic mana projection! Ye already have tha essential skills o' Grandmaster Cobalt! Truly a rare gem o' a human,” He hands the wand back to me, and I add it to my bucket. As I wipe the saliva that was on the wand off my hand, Grandmaster Slate smiles grandly, proclaiming.

  “I dinna believe such a tool has been cataloged previously. With how easy such a tool be ta use I wou' like ye ta grant it a name in tha common tongue. I wou' offer tha magic naming right, but I saw from your rune ye have your own language.”

  I mentally froze for a bit. I had been calling the wands by the English name since there was no translation, but English is a magic language. Had I ever written it out, it would function as a rune. Naming something had significance if I ever tried to use it for magic. If a word becomes a part of common language, it loses its magic. Just telling my sister's friends has likely already made the word "wand" mundane.

  I accept the loss of a magic word since the damage was already done. I let it keep the name Wand, marking the first word I have lost from English to the common language. I’ll need to be careful in the future with names of whatever I make. This was probably the first time using a language I was so fluent in had its drawbacks. Names and words had significance if I ever tried to use them for runes. Well, it was a lesson worth learning, and no other words should be compromised yet.

  I almost don’t even notice as Madam Laina is forcibly removed by a guard. It seems she intended to disturb our conversation, but the guard who had been blackmailed into removing me had kept his wits about him. Grandmaster Slate and I continue to talk for a majority of the afternoon with a near-constant stream of townsfolk lining up to play with my wands. It was a way to experience magic more directly than many got the opportunity to.

  The Grandmaster eventually takes his leave to see if there are any other gems in this town. His entire demeanor was far too energetic for an old man, and while I enjoyed my chat with him, my instincts were on edge. I almost had to force myself to remember that nobody gets to the rank he had without violence—copious amounts of violence. With the event winding down, I took the opportunity to pack up my gear and make my way home.

  Gunsmith

  Callen had finally finished the planned work on the family home. The multifloored luxurious runic house shone to take pride in. Now that the crisis facing Callen had passed, it was time to try something he had long been curious about. Could he make a runic gun?

  The first gun was rather simple in design, much like a musket, but instead used a loadable runic piece of wood as gunpowder. The result was less than impressive. Master Yoren warned him that the projectile was too small and too fragile to withstand impact with any living creature except maybe children. The system-enhanced vitality made everyone resistant to injury up to a certain degree, and vitality was the most popular attribute, as it increased someone's lifespan and survivability.

  Callen, however, wasn’t ready to give up. If a small piece of metal couldn’t sufficiently function as a bullet, then how about a sharpened enchanted piece of wood? This time the piece did more damage, successfully lodging itself into the target, but looking at the target next to it that Callia had shot straight through did hurt Callen's confidence in the project.

  Callen then provided Callia with the gun and an abundance of ammunition, but even after firing every shot, the only skill Callia improved was Mobile Aim, which just improved accuracy, not impact. Eventually they decided that they were missing a foundational skill to let them impart skill effects into projectiles they were indirectly firing. In conclusion, until they found a way to hold a bullet before shooting it, guns lacked the supernatural push to compete with bows. Callen was sad, and Callia was even more depressed that she couldn’t turn her brother into a portable ammunition slave.