After obtaining the ores, their next stop was a blacksmith's shop. Carls swore by the goddess herself that the man was skilled, even if he wasn't well-known, and assured Damon that the smith was tight-lipped about his clients. Damon wouldn't have to worry about word getting out.
The shop was tucked away in a quiet corner of town, hidden behind a labyrinth of winding alleys. Carls led the way, navigating the twisting paths with ease until they arrived.
Damon stepped into the dimly lit workshop, the bag on his shoulder feeling heavier than usual. It contained his academy uniform and the rocks he'd purchased from the ore shop. He still wasn't sure if the rocks were worth anything or if his shadow had simply chosen at random. But given how animated the shadow had been about the first rock, Damon allowed himself a shred of hope.
