"So you're saying you're already on your way to swordmaster rank" Rosemary questioned, hands crossed as she stared at me in disbelief.
"More like on the verge of it" I elaborated, leaning against the window as the carriage jerked and squeaked.
Our journey to Jugrin, had taken us over a week, and today we had finally reached the path to the city.
'One long week of discomfort'
Bomon was a renowned weapons maker and genius artifact crafter, known for his works accross the entire world.
According to Rosemary, he was among the top smiths who crafted the emperor's sword;- Bazoth.
A mythic grade weapon that was rumoured to be practically indestructible.
"Is something on your mind?" Rosemary waved, switching from where she sat opposite me, to where I sat.
"Nothing much".
The pain in my eye had doubled recently, causing major discomfort as I couldn't go a day without feeling fatigued from mana exhaustion.
"I heard the third son of the Brithuel household is always born with a curse" she claimed, leaning forwards as she rested her head in her open palm.
Even though I was hyped up about Sundra's third eye the minute I learnt about it, I just wanted it gone now.
According to the Brithuels history, only three generations had made it pas their forties with the eyes. And three out of seven wasn't a good enough assurance for me.
But regardless of that, it was feat that even I acknowledge
"What eye is it, I want to see it?" She pestered, leaning closer till her breasts grazed my shoulder lightly.
She was sending me mixed signals constantly, and I couldn't confirm if it was all a big ploy to exploit me or whatever.
I pressed my index on my right eye as I felt the flow of energy toward it, dissipate in that instant.
It was a method I had learnt to keep the eye in check overtime.
"Ohhhh..... It's kinda beautiful I gotta admit" she responded, dropping the usual honorifics that she spoke with.
"How do you stop it from going berserk?"
"A reflexive supply of constant energy in bits, at various intervals in time." I replied vaguely, not wanting to elucidate the process involved therein.
Truthfully speaking, it was even more complex than I stated, as it took me two weeks of constant research and practice to finally perfect it.
"We're here!" Mark announced, jumping down as the coach man stopped the carriage.
I chose to remain in the carriage still, at least until we had reached our final destination.
"Have you heard of the dwarves passage ritual?" Rosemary asked, leaning towards the window as she watched Mark head towards the gates.
From where I sat, I could only see a few mountains clustered on one part, with houses etched on almost every corner and lights emitting from inside.
"No, what is it" I answered finally, turning towards her.
"It's a ritual performed by foreigners whenever they demanded entrance into Dwarven territories." She responded, pulling a coat over her shoulders, till her red garment disappeared from sight.
"Oh, and what does it entails"
"Singing"
"Huh?"
She got up immediately, gesturing for me to do the same.
Of all absurdity that I had heard and experienced in my new life, this was the height of it.
"Why do we all have to sing though" I protested, getting up slowly. I had almost walked outside before someone burst into laughter, alarming me in the process.
I turned over to Rosemary, watching her crouch down from how hard she was laughing.
'Ah I see'
I had been played for a fool.
"You really thought we'd all just walk to to a gate and start singing!" She asked amidst her taunting laughter.
I chuckled soon enough, slowly, as it grew into a calm laugh.
"You really are strange" she added, brushing the tears in her eyelids softly.
I appreciated her attempt to lighten the mood, easing up all the stress my body had began to accumulate.
Mark soon boarded again, as we drove undeterred to the heart of the city, passing mostly empty streets, filled with the constant prying glares of it's residents.
Even as I stared at dwarves make their way around, passing our carriage, I couldn't shake the thought of the peculiar nature of their existence.
To think that an entire race would consist of primitively small creatures, made the entire idea of fantasy, settle finally for me.
"Unlike elves, they're more friendly and receptive towards humans." Rosemary noted, as if she had read my mind.
She covered both ears quietly as she shifted her gaze from mine.
What she faced in this world was quite similar to racism back on earth, in fact, it was the actual racism unlike what humans deluded themselves with.
Even among the elves, a halfbreed like her was considered an abomination in some parts.
"You know you don't have to do that around me" I assured her, pulling down the veil she had covered her face with.
"People will always feel insecure about things they don't like. it's all a matter of perspective I guess" i continued, turning back toward the window to continue my sightseeing.
"You know it's not that easy right" she opposed, chuckling slightly.
True.
Against one person, you could easily disregard their opinions, but against an entire race or culture?? That was something no one could fight, since it was already buried deep within their mentality.
"But at least I don't think that way about you" I reassured her, feeling the carriage jerk once more as we came to a stop.
"Since when did you become such a smooth talker" she mocked, smiling.
'Me? Smooth talker?'
That was a bit of a stretch for even a compliment.
We stepped out of the carriage, standing in front of a blacksmith's forge at the far end of the city walls, the building towering over our heads, singly occupying the land on which it stood
It was fascinating how creatures so small could build houses so tall.
"This is it, let's go inside" Bartov urged, leading the way. He was one of Tanya's personal guards and the one designated to lead us here.
As we stepped inside, the sound of hammer hitting iron on an anvil, hissing of hot blades being submerged inside water and even the heat from furnaces could be heard and felt from every corner of the building.
Everyone was hard at work and no one bothered to pay any attention to us.
The inside of the building was decorated heavily with various form of Dwarven leather that lined even the windows.
There were ancient inscriptions on the door we passed, revealing ancestorhood of possibly hundreds of years.
A dwarf then walked towards us, dressed in a beasts fur that covered most of his body, wearing a relatively big leather boots, with a huge hammer- the size of mjornir, flung over a shoulder.
His lips curled in a supercilious smile as he stared at us, counting our members.
"So you're the ones here to see Bomon, huh?" He sneered, his question sounding more threateningly than curious.
"Yes, mister..." Rosemary inquired, stepping forward as she stretched her hand for a handshake.
"It's Druig, just Druig" The dwarf retorted, walking away towards a room hidden at the end of the building.
Rosemary clenched her hand in discomfort as a wry smile stretched throughout her face, replacing her usual forced, calm demeanor.
"Don't just stand there, master Bomon is waiting for you lots" he yelled, turning backwards as his northern accent finally kicked in.
We all hurried after him, passing through varies rooms filled with craftsmen both old and young, each forging a weapon of different variations- from spear and sword to even gauntlets and rings.
We finally arrived at Bomon's quarters which was situated at the farthest end of the edifice.
A husky old man sat at the center of the room, staring closely at an ore with a pair of binoculars strapped on his head.
Rosemary beckoned for me to take over the introductions, making it precisely obvious that she wanted to avoid getting snubbed by all means.
I stepped forward thereafter, starting up the introductions without a care for disregard.
"Mister Bomon, were here from the trade union to pick up your next batch of finished products." I ended, putting both hands in my pockets as I stared intricately at him.
"Oh, Tanya sent you" He responded in a deep voice, turning finally as he stepped down to reveal his small form.
"She told you when it would be ready didn't she" he inquired again, this time walking towards us.
"Six days" I responded firmly, wanting to wrap the explanations up so I could go for a short spar with Mark before it got dark.
THUD!
The sound of a heavy object hitting the floor echoed throughout the room, alarming us all as I turned slowly towards Mark who was crouching to pick up the strange rock that fell.
'That thing huh' I thought to myself as I stared at it.
When I awoke in the body of Milo for the second time, there was a strange black rock sitting by the window, and although I disposed of it after, it somehow found its way back in a strange turn of events.
"Sorry young Lord" Mark apologized, finally picking up the rock.
"It's fine" I responded turning back towards Bomon.
Strangely enough it was among my things when I arrived at Ethos and I mistook it's appearance for Natasha's mistake during packing. But seeing as it also followed me here, it most definitely proved that thought wrong.
'I guess it followed me here too'
As I opened my mouth to conclude the conversation, a thought immediately crept into my mind, leaving a feeling of deja vu in the process.
'What if this rock was some kind of secret gift from whatever brought me to this world and I'm meant to equip it here'.
I thought, strangely not bothered about how cringe it sounded.
"Well in that case, I guess I have one request for you mister Bomon." I proposed calmly, willing to gamble with my chances.