Rivyn's workshop rang with the rhythmic clanging of metal as he struck away at the blade in front of him. He knew the ring of steel against steel better than the beating of his own heart, but today, it carried weight in an altogether different way. Every strike brought him closer to the completion of another commission, but the warning always firing in the edge of his vision gnawed at him.
[Warning: Threat Detected.]
He had received the message earlier that day, but since then, a pall of dread had settled over him. Rivyn couldn't place the source of the threat, but the System was never wrong. It had saved him from countless failures, guiding his hand as he crafted weapons and tools that had finally started gaining attention. Still, the warning left him on edge, wary of every creak and shadow. It belonged to one Toren, a local adventurer who had only recently begun frequenting his shop. Two weeks prior, Toren had entered the shop in search of a quick fix-replacement for his sword, while that one was being repaired by a different blacksmith. Rivyn had been hesitant at first; his reputation shaking, few were really trusting his work after so many failures in the past.
But the System had changed that. It sharpened his instincts, guiding him on unexplained ways.
Toren's request had seemed so simple then: just a humble blade to use while waiting on his regular sword. But when Toren had come back a few days later, he looked surprised.
"This sword you gave me," he said, holding it up for Rivyn to see, "it held up better than the one I had before."
Rivyn had been taken aback by the praise, unsure how to respond. "Glad it worked for you," he'd replied, trying to play it off, but inside he'd felt a glimmer of pride.
Since then, Toren had returned often. He had become fond of Rivyn's work, and by word of mouth, the small group of adventurers who passed through the village had grown. Rivyn had begun to develop a reputation, and with such a reputation came accountability.
Now, with Toren's sword finally re-tempered, he couldn't help but think about how fast things had changed. Just weeks ago, he struggled to make anything of value worthy enough to sell, and now his craft was the talk of the village. It wasn't enough. He knew staying here in this village would stagnate him, and the more recent ramblings of the System only reinforced such thoughts. The village was too small for the ambitions he had started to foster.
Rivyn quenched the sword in the oil barrel, and steam rose in soft hisses as the metal cooled. The blade gleamed, straight and true once more, its edge razor-sharp. It was some of his best work, and the satisfaction which came with completing it settled briefly over his shoulders before being overtaken by the residual tension left by the System's warning.
Before Rivyn could think too much about it, the door to his shop creaked open and Toren stepped inside. The usual smile was worn from the road, his armor caked with dust and grime. It was the presence of the adventurer that somehow brought some sense of normalcy back, even though the tension still loomed in the background, like a shadow.
"Rivyn," Toren greeted, the weariness of too many fights laced in his voice. He made his way closer to the counter, propping himself up somewhat against it. "Sword ready?"
Rivyn nodded, extending the weapon. "It is done. I reforged the edge and fixed the chips. It should hold up well."
Toren took the sword, giving it a few test swings. The blade sliced through the air with ease, the metal gleaming in the low light of the forge. His eyes lit up with approval. "This is perfect. Even better than last time. I don't know what you're doing, Rivyn, but your work's the best I've seen around here."
Rivyn's lips quirked into a modest smile. "Just practice," he said, though he knew the real reason was quite different. The System had been guiding his hand, making improvements in his work that he never thought possible.
Toren sheathed the sword, satisfied. He reached into his pouch and pulled out several silver coins, placing them on the counter. "Here. You've more than earned it."
Rivyn took the payment, his mind still elsewhere. The System's warning hadn't gone away, and the mention of a "threat" kept nagging at the back of his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling that something bigger was coming, something that couldn't be solved with just hammer and steel.
Before he could even turn to leave, Toren hovered at the door, looking back at Rivyn. "You ever think of leaving this place?"
The question came to Rivyn as a surprise, he'd been thinking upon it, but hadn't expected Toren to bring the subject up. "Why do you ask?"
Toren shrugged, taking a step closer. "You got talent, Rivyn. Real talent. Better than most smiths I have crossed, and I have been around. You do all right in a place like Velira. Ton of adventurers there, and they're always looking for good work.
Rivyn's heart quickened at the mention of the city. Velira was the largest in the region, always seeming so far off in terms of distance and opportunity. A place for real craftsmen-the kind who make legendary weapons and armor. Rivyn had never, up until recently, dared think of himself as being on that level.
"I've thought about it," Rivyn admitted, his voice quieter than usual. "Velira's not far, and there's more work there. More chances to grow."
Toren smiled, nodding. "You'd do well there. Better than wasting your skills in this little village. If I were you, I'd be packing my things and heading to Velira tomorrow."
The words struck something in Rivyn deep, resonating with what he had been told himself already for days. The village had been kind to him, but it was tiny, almost ridiculously so, where the potential he had found in himself, with a little help from the System, was enormous. Velira would be a new beginning, a place where he could really take his craft to the next level. But leaving wasn't easy; for he had known this shop for years-the tools, the forge, and the space. Giving all that up felt like a leap into the void, to a place where failure seemed bigger than it was.
Toren, sensing Rivyn's hesitation, clapped him on the shoulder. "Think about it, Velira's not going anywhere, but you do not want to waste your time here forever."
With that, the adventurer turned and left; the door closed softly behind him.
Rivyn stood in the quiet of the shop, staring at the closed door. The forge crackled behind him, its warm glow casting long shadows on the walls. The System's warning was still blinking at the edge of his vision, but now, something else took hold of him-a deep, undeniable pull toward Velira. The city wasn't just a place of opportunity; it was a place where he could be more than just a village blacksmith.
He sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady himself. It was like a mountain of a decision weighing on his chest, but he knew Toren was right. If he stayed here, he would stagnate completely. He needed to be in Velira.
As if it felt his resolution, the System softly beeped.
[Quest Complete: Repair Toren's Sword.]
[Reward: 2 System Points Earned.]
The warmth of the System Points settled over him, yet it didn't really ease the tension in his shoulders. He was standing on the cusp of something bigger than anything he'd ever dealt with, and he didn't have a very clear idea about the path forward, which wasn't so bad when the System had appeared to him at first.
Then, out of nowhere, the System spoke again. [New Quest: Move to the City of Velira. [Time Remaining: 7 Days.] [Reward: 10 System Points.] Rivyn's breath hitched in his throat as he read the message. Seven days. For the first time, the System had given him a clear directive since his arrival. The System was pushing him toward the city-to leave village life and start afresh. The reward for it-10 System Points-more than he ever had earned from any single task so far. It wasn't just a suggestion. It was a call to action. He glanced around the shop, taking in the tools, the anvil, the forge. It had been his life for so long, but now the pull of Velira was undeniable. Rivyn set down his hammer and wiped the sweat from his brow. The decision was already made. It was time to move on.