The Blacksmith's Apprentice

After several days of contact, William, who was as cunning as they came, had learned through indirect questioning about the misunderstanding Sunderland and the others had about him. A great dragon of the highest order walking among mortals? That was quite a joke. But he had no obligation to explain this delightful misunderstanding.

William hadn't deliberately played up or concealed the misunderstanding, but after several days of testing, the female magistrate seemed to have started doubting his identity. Chen Jinyang could clearly feel Sunderland growing a little colder toward him over the past two days. Then she'd claimed it would be more appropriate for a young Elf to teach Mishaer Elvish and backed out of her earlier promise to teach the girl. He was furious, yet had no words to refute her.

One's fortunes could change in an instant. Aelf, the Moon Elf girl who had always been at a disadvantage around William, suddenly felt as though she'd turned the tables. She started putting on airs. "Beg me! Go on, beg me! Heh heh heh—!" The Elf girl, so smug that her little tail nearly pointed at the sky, circled Mishaer, her bright eyes fixed on the Horn of Kor in the little girl's red hair.

"I won't! Mishaer will never beg you!" The little girl covered her head with both hands and pouted defiantly.

"Come on, beg me! If you give me that helmet, I'll teach you Elvish! Hee hee hee!"

"No! I don't want to learn Elvish from you! You nasty long-eared Elf! Don't even think about taking my precious treasure! The Crown of Victory and Glory"—she'd changed its name again!?—"will never fall into the hands of a green-eyed Elf!" The little girl wasn't swayed in the slightest. She struck the pose of a storybook knight standing up to evil.

"You annoying little brat! Who are you calling long-eared and green-eyed? Are you giving me that helmet or not?" The little Elf, now thoroughly riled, prepared to take it by force.

"No way!" The little girl, determined to defend her "treasure" to the death, hurriedly dodged. Their daily battle over the Horn of Kor began again.

William shook his head and left the house with a sigh. Given the hostility between the two little ones, his plan to learn more about the world's mainstream culture would have to wait. But there was a more pressing problem to solve: food. Back then, out of caution, he'd firmly turned down the Habel Family's enormous offer of tens of thousands of gold coins. Now William was penniless. The female magistrate had also stopped playing the sucker and providing free meals over the past couple of days. His family and one idle Elf had to get by on the food they'd kept in their Bag of Holding.

William and Alos went to the old Sailu, the man they knew best in Mirabar, and asked him to sell all their stored pelts except the Winter Wolf hide. They had dozens of pelts, large and small, but got only six or seven gold coins for the lot. On the other hand, the two bottles of acid and one bottle of Alchemist's Fire that Elrago had once called worthless sold for more than twenty gold coins, leaving someone utterly stunned.

You might be wondering how much twenty gold coins were worth. Put it this way: a chicken cost the same as two pounds of wheat or one pound of hard bread, and cost two copper coins. One gold coin equaled ten silver coins, or a thousand copper coins. That meant twenty gold coins could buy ten thousand chickens, twenty thousand pounds of wheat, or ten thousand pounds of hard bread. Even a cow, so important to a farmer, cost only three to five gold coins. This showed just how enormous the fortune Elrago had once offered was, and how the Habel Family's potential strength rivaled that of an ordinary small kingdom.

Of course, this three-tier currency system of gold, silver, and copper was only used among the alliances of the North. Many towns and states outside the alliances didn't recognize it.

Sitting in the Iron-Forge Inn's hall and drinking soup, William felt a pang in his heart whenever he remembered turning down that fortune. Why had he been so impulsive? He should at least have kept a little! Then he wouldn't be fretting over how to fill their bellies. Look at those four freeloaders! Oh, and there was old Sailu, who'd come to cadge a meal too. Look at those gluttons wolfing down their food! This was fine golden bread, and one silver coin bought only two pounds. He couldn't bring himself to make the little ones chew on cheap black bread—hard and rough as stone, full of bran and sawdust, and nearly impossible to swallow.

The "househusband," close to tears, could only turn his grief into appetite and transform into a "gluttonous beast" even more ravenous than everyone else, devouring the food on the table with even greater gusto.

Worse than having to support one big eater was having two more voracious appetites to feed. To keep their savings from running out, William had to find a way to earn money. Mirabar was a mining hub with three things in abundance: merchants, miners, and blacksmiths. At old Sailu's suggestion, and for his own reasons, William decided to find work as a blacksmith first and make plans from there.

Mirabar was a famous city of blacksmiths. Strangely, though, most of the smithies that should have been busy day and night now lay silent.

William followed old Sailu into a smithy where there was at least a little noise. It had no name; a pair of blacksmith's hammers hung outside. A burly, one-eyed Dwarf with a black-and-gray beard tied behind his back was working at the forge, hammer in hand and drenched in sweat. He paid the two humans no mind, continuing to pound steadily at the glowing metal on his anvil.

The smithy was much hotter inside than out, thanks to the blazing forge. Old Sailu approached the Dwarf and called, "Master Singers! How are you doing?"

The fierce-looking one-eyed Dwarf glanced at William behind him with his only gray-brown left eye, then said in a deep, indifferent voice, "Oh, little Sailu! What do you need? If it's nothing, don't bother me!"

Old Sailu turned back to William with some embarrassment, then pointed him out to Singers. "Master! This is a fine young man from my village, William. He hopes to find an apprentice's job here."

"An apprentice? Hahaha!" Singers narrowed his one remaining eye and laughed mockingly. "A human wants to apprentice himself to a blind Dwarf like me? Have the Gnomes started growing beards?" The one-eyed Dwarf put down his work and hopped onto the workbench, trying to get a vantage point from which to look down on them. But William was so tall that the move was pointless. Even standing on the bench, the Dwarf was still half a head shorter than the young human.

The Dwarf looked fierce and was powerfully built. His weather-beaten, rough face offered a glimpse of his miserable outlook on life. Singers Macluff had lost an eye, but had made no effort to fill the empty socket. He simply covered it with an eyepatch. Half his beard was also gone, replaced by a large scar across his right cheek—a clear sign that he'd once suffered a terrible injury.

"Haha! Little fellow without a beard, you should go find those big-talking metallurgists and alchemists! Don't come apprenticing at my smithy, where a Dwarf as stubborn as rock works! Ignorant human! Go find your experts! You're not welcome here!" the one-eyed Dwarf said with cutting disdain. He tilted his head up to glare at William, clearly uncomfortable with having to look at him.

William didn't know why the Dwarf hated humans, but that didn't stop him from offering a little flattery. "Everyone here says that Singers, the one-eyed Dwarf, is the best blacksmith in Mirabar! Of course I'd want to apprentice myself to the finest Dwarf!"

No one noticed that old Sailu, who had led them there, had quietly slipped away.

The one-eyed Singers was quite pleased with William's flattery, but he still glowered and said, "You smooth-talking young rascal! Pretty words are as useless as a Gnome's beard! Hmph—metal made so hard and soft that no one can match it? That's nothing but absurd nonsense! If the magic that strengthens metal isn't one of Dumathoin's guarded secrets, then it simply can't exist! Not one of them has a bearded Dwarf among them, yet they dare claim they know more about metal than Dwarves! There's never been a more ridiculous joke!" As the Dwarf let off a long, grumbling rant, William could only smile wryly and listen without understanding much of it.

"The Marquis believes those fake experts' nonsense! He'd rather chase some nonexistent alchemical recipe than hire more people to mine new veins and expand production! A Rothé must've kicked him in the head! Even the Glimmerstone Council has fallen for these stupid scams! Useless Aglanse! Spit! That fool abandoned Dwarf tradition and Dumathoin! A century of idleness must've made him forget everything Dumathoin taught him!"

After enduring the Dwarf's verbal barrage, William had to interrupt his complaints and ask loudly, "Master Singers! Can I work here as an apprentice?"

The one-eyed Dwarf, lost in his grumbling, flashed a sharp look. Sounding a little reluctant to stop, he said, "Damn it! Oh, since little Sailu recommended you, you can work here for a while. Go! Carry these iron ingots down to the next level! Foolish Erastu! What a bunch of idiots! They're being led around by the nose! Even the stupidest Dwarf is smarter than them!"

William hefted the box of iron ingots beside the anvil. It was heavy, but he could still carry it. He followed the one-eyed Dwarf down from the workbench, while Singers stared at him in astonishment, mouth agape. Taking the stairs on the other side, William entered the level below the room's floor. It was another smithy, but no one was working there.

"You're a strong young fellow! Starting tomorrow, you'll come down with me to dig for ore. Remember to bring a light! I don't want you getting lost in the dark mines on your first day!" Singers told William after he set the box down.

When William came out of the one-eyed Dwarf's smithy, old Sailu was waiting nearby. Somewhat awkwardly, he said, "Old Singers has a peculiar temper, but he really is a fine blacksmith! William, I don't know why you've changed so much, but please take good care of Alos and little Mishaer! I'm heading back to the village tomorrow!"

William bowed his thanks. "Thank you, Mr. Sailu, for all the kindness you've shown my sister and me over the years. If you ever need anything from me, just say the word!"

Such a declaration sounded a little out of place coming from a boy, but William spoke with conviction because he was truly grateful for the kindness Sailu had shown him and his sister.