"Hello, Mr. Blacksmith," I bowed respectfully to Merten, and he gave me a joyful smile.
"I don't see your mother here with you, so I take it you aren't here to touch my precious works again, right kid?"
He chuckled, gesturing towards the racks filled with different variations of swords and axes.
"No... I was showing them your place."
I tried to show that Ezekiel and Corsan were here, but he just kept his eyes on me as if I were the only person in the room.
As my eyes drifted towards the back of the workshop, I searched for signs of him crafting one of the legendary weapons. But the workbench remained clear. The only evidence of his recent work was a scattering of metal shavings and a faint heat lingering in the air.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Blacksmith. May I ask for your name?"
Mr. Nivel stepped forward and extended his hand to Merten.
Merten hesitated for a moment, his gaze hovered between Nivel's outstretched hand and his sincere eyes.
A flicker of something like surprise crossed the blacksmith's usually gruff features before he finally grasped Nivel's hand.
"Just call me Merten, nothing more," he coughed as his eyes narrowed suspiciously at Nivel.
He brushed the dust off his clothing, a gesture that seemed more an attempt to distance himself than to tidy up.
"It's nice to meet you, Merten. You can call me Nivel."
"The pleasure is mine... so, what do I owe you today, Nivel and accomplice?" He looked down at Ezekiel, who hid behind Nivel.
"Well, I'm quite interested in your work. The many blacksmiths I've visited all produce the same standard wares, but yours... I can tell at first glance that you possess a rare talent."
"...!"
Merten's eyes widened, and his brow furrowed. Corsan's words seemed to have touched a nerve, and Merten was surprised by the compliment.
"I'm sure you're only saying that because this little boy is with you."
"Of course not. I'm being serious. Although you've displayed a few weapons in the window, I could tell immediately that they're above the regular grading of their archetypes."
"I'm glad you like them. Are you buying any of them today?"
Merten grunted, and his eyes slowly drifted to the glowing metal on his anvil.
He doesn't care about the value of his weapons but rather who wields them.
If he knew that you weren't suited for the weapon, he'd tell you without hesitation or kick you out of his store.
"Not today, but I'll definitely come back once I have the currency for it. You see we're new here."
Merten's brow raised as he seemed much more interested of them being new here.
"Yes, I figured you've never seen us around before,"
Merten said, stroking his beard and looking at Merten.
"What country are you from?"
"We're from Aetherius," Nivel replied.
"Ah... the land of freedom. You must be wealthy," Merten remarked.
"You flatter me, but of course, we're just humble nobles—"
CRASH!
The sounds of a crash came from outside.
WOM!...
"...!"
I felt a strange energy coming from outside and it appears Nivel must've noticed as well.
But for some reason, I felt uneasy... my hands began to tremble from that faint whiff and I couldn't calm it down, no matter how hard I tried.
"What was that?" Ezekiel tapped me on the shoulder, whispering.
"It's probably nothing," I told Ezekiel, forcing my voice to remain calm.
But my heart pounded against my ribs, and I couldn't help but steal another glance towards the door.
What was that energy? And could it really be connected to that crash?
I hoped not, because I couldn't tell if it was a good or bad kind of energy.
Nivel's eyes widened, and he instinctively took a step back.
"Sorry, Merten. I'd like to stay and chat, but we need to leave. Now."
"Okay then, by all means," Merten said with a shrug. He picked up his hammer from the counter and walked back to his forge, seemingly oblivious to the crash.
"Don't forget to close the door on your way out," he added.
Nivel's eyes widened, and he instinctively took a step back.
"Stay close behind me," he instructed but his voice held a firm but edged tremor.
"Both of you."
I exchanged a nervous glance with Ezekiel, and we followed closely as Nivel pushed open the heavy wooden door.
The midday sun blazed down, and the village was awfully quiet.
As we turned our heads, we saw the crash site, a mangled carriage with two startled horses.
It seemed it was closer than I expected, just a short distance from the blacksmith's shop.
A wave of heat shimmered off the cobblestones, and the air crackled with a strange energy that made my skin prickle.
Nivel's hand twitched, and I noticed beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
He scanned the surroundings as his gaze lingered on the overturned carriage.
A man in a simple tunic, presumably the driver, wrung his hands beside the tilted carriage, inspecting the damage with a look of despair.
Then another figure in a brown cloak emerged from behind the broken-down carriage, his face hidden in the shadows of his hood.
He spoke to the caretaker and seemed to calm the man down.
Ezekiel instantly seeing his chance rushed towards the commotion.
"Maybe we can help!" he chirped, his voice full of naïve enthusiasm.
"Ezekiel, no!" Nivel shouted with panic.
He lunged forward, grabbing my arm and pulling me along as he sprinted after Ezekiel.
"Don't approach them!"
WHAT WHY IS HE DRAGGING ME ALONG?!
DASH!!!!!!