The first light of dawn was little more than a whisper over the horizon when Rivyn found himself outside his workshop. In his arms was the sword, thickly wrapped—a resting burden. The stiff fingers, for endless work through the night, still clutched tight around the weapon. Hardly time to sleep; there would be none. Three days—no delays. This had been made clear by the mysterious representative.
He scanned around with his eyes, taking in the silent street; the air was dead still with morning, but a rack of unease stirred Rivyn's gut. That commission just felt wrong, though he couldn't quite place it.
With a heavy exhalation, he started towards the meeting point, each step a weight not only added to his exhausted limbs but as an extension of all expectations gnawing at bits of his mind. He did not know if the blade was good enough, if it would even meet the client's expectations. And if it didn't.
Rivyn sent that thought running and hastened his pace.
It was a narrow alley, behind one of the city's more affluent districts. Odd location for such an exchange, but Rivyn had learned long time ago not to ask too many questions when gold was involved—mostly because the people who offered such gold generally didn't have a lot of patience with those who couldn't get the job done.
Except for a figure leaning into the wall, his cloak melding with the shadows, the alley was deserted. It was the same man who had commissioned the sword. He pushed off the wall as Rivyn approached, eyes keen as knives in the morning dimness.
"On time. That's good," he said, an easygoing tone but with something lurking in it that made Rivyn's skin rise. "Do you have it?"
Rivyn nodded, unwrapping the sword from its cloth and presenting it with great care. The man took it from her, his eyes narrowed as he inspected it, running his eyes over the runes etched into the blade. He reached out and took the sword from Rivyn, testing the weight with a few practiced swings.
The man stood a moment, regarding the weapon, his face unreadable, and the air hung heavy with tension. Rivyn's heart was racing in his chest; he'd put all his time, energy, and System points into this sword-if this wasn't good enough, there was no backup.
The man traced his finger upon the edge of the blade, and under his touch, the runes on it flickered faintly. A smile twisted his lips.
"It'll do," he said lowly, sheathing the sword and tossing a small pouch of coins toward Rivyn. "Consider your debt paid."
Rivyn caught the bag, his hands shaking—trembling with the weight of gold that rested in his palm. A wave of relief washed over him; it was momentary. He still felt that something was wrong.
"You should be careful, blacksmith," he appended, the tone of his voice taking on a darker nuance. "The people I work for don't take kindly to failure. You've done well this time, but they'll be watching."
Rivyn swallowed and gave a nod. He understood it was a warning, perhaps even a threat, but he got the message: He was treading on dangerous ground now.
Therewith, he wheeled and disappeared into the darkness of night, leaving Rivyn to his thoughts alone within the darkened alley.
Rivyn slumped onto the stool as he re-entered the workroom, his eyes focused on the bag of gold lying on the counter. He should feel victorious after all: the sword was accepted and the debt collector wouldn't be banging on his door anymore. Finally, he had enough to breathe. Yet, instead of satisfaction, an unease started slowly falling upon him.
The tone in which that man had spoken. the warning. Rivyn knew he was far from out of danger.
His eyes flickered to the System screen, hovering ghostly in his peripheral vision. He was down to one System Point. One. A single point stood between him and utter helplessness. If another task came up, if he needed another skill—he'd be up a creek without a paddle unless he found a way to earn more.
He couldn't go on working on commissions like this-especially those given under veiled threats. He needed to be more smooth, more calculating. And he needed to find some way of using the System without siphoning himself dry.
A gentle chime cut through his thoughts.
[Ding!]
A new notification blazed in front of him:
[Craft an Accessory with Enchantment (0/1)]
Rewards: 2 System Points
Rivyn furrowed his brow. An accessory? He'd never made one of those. That was a project which would require materials he didn't have in stock, metals, gems, and intricate designs much finer than when forging a weapon; then, he thought about the enchanting process itself. At least the Basic Enchantment skill he had unlocked earlier would be coming in handy again.
He hastily checked his System Points.
[Current Marks: 1]
"Not enough," Rivyn grumbled. He needed to get on building something soon or he might not have any more chances. Annoyance boiled inside him, and he slouched back against the workbench.
He was at a standstill.
His mind began to swim with possibilities. He could go for smaller items, simpler items, and hope to secure more points simply through volume, but that would take time—time that he might not have. On the other hand, he could take on more commissions, but that risked pulling him deeper into work that might prove to be far more dangerous.
There was a knock on the door at the precise moment possibilities swirled in his head.
Rivyn's heart nearly stopped. Not the debt collector, surely; he'd just paid them off. This time a lot more cautiously, Rivyn quickened his pulse as he crossed the room and opened the door.
Standing in the doorway was a young woman; half of her face was obscured by the hood of a worn cloak, but her eyes blazed bright and focused, with an intensity that made Rivyn feel as though she stared through him.
"You're the blacksmith, I take it?" she said in soft but definite tones.
"That I am," Rivyn said cautiously. "And what can I do for you?"
Her eyes roamed the workshop, fluttering briefly to rest on scattered tools and half-finished projects before settling back on him. "I have heard of your recent work. The enchanted sword."
Rivyn's chest tightened. "Who told you that?
"Well," she said finally, her voice giving nothing away, "I need a dagger. Something really small and unnoticeable but still deadly."
The system updated; there was a soft ding following her words:
Dagger with Enchantment Creation Task: 0/1
Rewards: 3 System Points
Rivyn was dubious; not that it would be an issue, as he wouldn't have Basic Enchantment skill anymore, but whether time and enough energy existed for it to be pulled off in such quick succession.
She could hear the hesitation. "I'll pay you in advance," she said, hauling out a small pouch of coins from a pocket and slinging it onto the counter. "I don't need it by tomorrow, but soon. And if you're as good as all that-well, it's just a dagger."
He picked up the pouch and checked the weight within. Enough to keep the shop running a little longer, but more importantly, this would net him 3 System Points-enough to give him the flexibility needed, to continue unlocking skills and progressing.
He met her gaze. "I'll do it," he said, his voice steady. "Come back in two days." She merely nodded. Her lips quirked in the faintest suggestion of a smile, and "Two days," she said, and then turned into the street and disappeared. Rivyn was back in his place at the workbench when the forge behind him burst into life. He was preparing for the dagger he would work on. His body still wracked with exhaustion from the last commission he took on and finished, but this time he was prepared. He could feel the System singing in the back of his head—a faint presence that made sure he was working. The design was simple, yet somehow exact: a dagger must be light, sharp and deadly—a weapon that could well be concealed but in the right hands was very effective. Hours melted away like it was nothing, and Ambros's strikes became the rhythm of Rivyn's intent—the blade shaping long, slender, deadly—yet somehow, to him, it seemed to gleam in the light of the forge. He felt the tug of the familiar within his own mind, and the skill, Basic Enchanting, came alive as he began his work. Finally, he laid the dagger upon the workbench, its surface sanded and ready for finishing. He pushed the runes into the blade, cautiously making use of a magic-stabilized hand to keep his hand steady while the magic flowed and the shimmer of the dagger showed faint lines of magic pulsating along the edge when the runes activated.
[Ding!] [Task Complete: Make an Enchanted Dagger ] [Reward: 3 System Points Earned]
Rivyn exhaled a deep breath, having only just realized that he had been holding it in the entire time. The blade was finished. And with that coming-of-age, he was sitting on four points-enough to unlock new skills or blow on tasks in the future without worrying about running dry. He took a small sheath and laid the dagger in it, setting it aside with the intention of giving it to the woman when she returned. For the first time in days, Rivyn felt somewhat satisfied, yet this reassurance came with a temper of knowledge that this would not be his last battle with discouragement. He still had a long way to go