I had an odd dream that night. I was making armor. But the armor seemed to explode every time I made it. And as I did so, a knife came closer and closer to my neck. The knife didn’t scare me as much as the bright blue circle in the distance.

It wasn’t a nightmare, just very odd.

What truly scared me was when I woke up to see the face of Mountain the dog smiling happily at me from the right side of the bed

“Planes of existence!” I fell off the bed. 115 kilograms of half-orc slamming into the floor made a noise that echoed for a moment. As I lay there, Mountain strode

around the bed to look down at me. I stared up at him, my tusks pulling at my lips as I tried to figure out what had just happened.

“What,” I asked at last, “were you deciding if I was worth eating or not?”

I found myself gaping in shock when Mountain shook his head from side to side.

“D-Did you just—?” I shook my ownhead, trying to shake off the bleariness. “You understand me?”

Mountain barked happily.

“…Sapient dogs,” I mused, trying to understand when my life had become so strange.

The door opened. I poked my head up from the floor to see around Mountain, and he turned his head to look.

“Char!” Katya popped her head inside. “Are you ready? We’re headed back to your shop! The carriage and the guards are ready!”

I stared at her, calmly getting my thoughts back together with all the madness of the last minute.

“...Guards?”

------

Arthur and I watched as Richard spoke to a group of guards, his face stern.

“So… you aren’t dying then?” Arthur asked me in shock.

“I want two men on that rooftop with bows,” Richard declared. “Be ready to stop anyone who tries to attack from the back alleys. Six more block off that alley, keep the shop as isolated as possible.”

“Not today,” I sighed. “Though I’m not so sure this is much better.”

The neighbors were staring from windows and shops as armored guards cordoned off the area, all in the name of the Prophesied Child’s safety. It was the most attention our street had every gotten. It didn’t help that Mountain had come along, as massive as ever, doggy tongue panting as he looked around.

Richard stood tall, watching as the guards walked into their positions, then came over to us.

“I’ll need to go into your home,” said Richard as he rested his palm against his sword. “I need to make sure it’s safe. A guide to show me every inch of the house would be good as well.”

Arthur quirked his eyebrow, looking at me. I shrugged. What was I supposed to say, no? Apparently we were taking care of celebrity.

Taking my shrug as agreement, Arthur waved Richard in. The knight nodded, and entered with Arthur following. I watched them enter, then walked over to the carriage in front of the house. It was massive, covered in thick steel plates, more like a large metal boulder on wheels than a carriage. A guard eyed me carefully as I strode up. In the window of the carriage was a cloth drape blocking viewers from looking within. As I came up however, I noticed a pair of eyes looking at me from the corner of the window.

“I’d like to speak with her please,” I said to one of the guards around the carriage.

The guard I spoke to scowled.

“Let him in!” a cheery voice called.

He scowled harder, but nodded for me to pass.

When I stepped into the carriage, Katya was there, dressed in simple armor once more.

“Hey, Char!” she said cheerily. “Are we almost done?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I admitted. “I’m not an expert on security measures. Richard is in the house now.”

“Oh, okay,” She looked outside again, eyes wide. “This is all so strange.”

“Does it happen everytime you go outside?”

“Not at the Chapel. But this is only the second time I’ve been outside of it. Yesterday was the first time.”

I couldn’t help my surprise at that. Even I, with my orc genetics, apparently had more freedom than the Prophesied Child. Odd to think of things that way. Here she was, famed throughout the world. The most beloved person in the city. We couldn’t be more opposite. But I felt no envy, no jealousy.

“Well… would you like me to tell you about anything?” I rubbed the back of my neck as she looked over to me. “I mean, I can answer any questions you have?”

“Oh!” she smiled brightly. I don’t think she knew any other way to smile. “Yes, I’d like that! Can you tell me about that?”

She pointed outside. I leaned over to see what she looking at, then winced.

“That’s… a trash bin.”

“Oh… it’s very big. What about that?”

“The bakers shop. Today he’s out, but I know his son will be working there. They don’t like me much, but they would be happy to get you something I think.”

“Really? Oh, and what about that store?”

“General goods. They sell a little bit of everything. I go there sometimes when I want something for my experiments and can’t walk to the docks.”

“Why would you go to the docks?” she asked.

“Well, everything one could want is there. Thanks to the fact it’s next to both the river and the sea, lots of trade goods end up there. Objects from the Eastern Continents, like spices, animals, and so on, can be found there for good prices. And the workers there will always accept a hand or two with the heavy lifting, so I can usually get a little bit of coin there as well.”

“You think I could work there to?”

For a moment I considered the idea of the big and burly dockworkers accepting the aid of the tiny girl that was the future savior of the world with the heavy, sweaty, and dirty work of loading and unloading goods.

“…”

“What?”

“All clear!” came Richard’s voice, saving me from an explanation. A moment later he opened the carriage door. He quirked an eye at the sight of me sitting there, before looking at Katya. “My lady. You may enter the,” he flickered his eyes to me, “the domicile.”

I hid a small smirk.

“Okay!” she hopped out of the carriage, crossing over to my house. I went to follow her, when Richard stopped me with a raised hand. He watched her enter, then looked over at me.

“I have checked your records,” said Richard in a low, dangerous tone, “so I know you have yet to show any violence that wasn’t done in self-defense. Nonetheless, I give you a warning orcling. I’ve killed hundreds of pure blooded orcs,” he tapped the hilt of his blade. “I’ve soaked my steel in the blood of warriors, shamans, and demon-worshippers. And if you do anything to harm my charge, I will add a blacksmith to that list.”

We stared at each other for a moment. Then, with deliberate slowness, I reached for his hand on my chest, removing it. He let me push it away, still looking at me.

“I won’t hurt her, or anyone, who doesn’t hurt me first,” I didn’t hold back my voice. When it came out, it was with the low, growling tones that were the gift of my orcish blood. The guards around us stepped back, fear etched on their faces. Richard simply narrowed his eyes. “I am a blacksmith. Before I am half-human, before I am half-orc, I am a blacksmith. I will do my job, and I will do it well. That is a promise.”

I stepped around him, walking towards my home. The sound of Richard’s footsteps followed, as I felt his eyes on my back.

------

Moments later we stood in the shop. I was measuring Katya, carefully noting down each number as I went. Arthur watched from his seat on one of the anvils as Richard prowled the room, watching me carefully. Katya was watching the measurements I was doing with curiosity tinged with boredom.

“Raise your arms,” Katya lifted them from her sides, letting me wrap my measuring tape around her waist. Moving quickly, I measure her hips and chest as well.

It is critical when making armor that your measurements are as perfect as possible. In battle, the last thing a warrior wants is for their armor to suddenly pinch or pull while they are in the midst of pitched combat.

Still, as I brought the tape to wrap around Katya’s chest, I could feel Richard’s gaze harden. I made sure my measurement was good, then quickly removed the tape to note it down.

“Richard,” Katya said as I finished writing.

“My lady?”

“Char said there was a baking shop that sold pastries here. Can you get me one?”

“At once!” Richard clapped an armored gauntlet to his chest and bowed, before leaving the room.

It was quiet for a bit. I took the measurement of her arms, separating the measurements for her hands, forearms, and upper arms.

“I’m sorry about him,” Katya said softly.

“Hmm?” I looked down at her. She was biting her lip, peeking up at me shyly.

“He… he’s just overprotective. A few assassins have tried to kill me over the years. And he worries.”

Assassins? That was horrifying to contemplate.

“I don’t mind so much,” I said, though I was actually relieved he was gone, as his gaze had been very distracting. “I’m glad you wanted that pastry though.”

“I’m actually not that hungry.”

“Then why,” I stopped when I noticed the mischievous glee in her eyes, “you mean you wanted him to leave?”

Arthur barked out a laugh. Katya’s smile widened slightly, and I couldn’t help my own smile.

A few minutes later I’d finished the measurements, double-checking them several times. Once I was sure I was done, it was time for the next part of the process. I started flipping through a book of various designs, trying to decide what would be best for my new client.

“So… do you have a favorite food?”

It took me a moment to realize the question was directed at me. I looked up, confused. Katya continued to stare at me earnestly.

“Um… sandwiches, I suppose. Or noodles with tomato sauce and meat.”

“On, I haven’t tried that,” she said thoughtfully.

“It’s pretty good.”

Thinking that we were done, I went back to the designs. Nothing I’d choose would be final, but having a basic starting idea would—

“What about books? Can you read?”

Sighing slightly, I looked back up at her. “Yes, I can. I don’t really have a favorite one, there are too many to choose from. Now, let me finish real quick. Please?”

“Oh, sorry!” She lifted her hands placitingly.

I nodded, then flipped the page. Where was I? Right, I’d need to design the armor for her small size. Easy enough. But it would need a few embellishments to reference her role as the Prophesied Child. Maybe a few passages from the Chapel of Valor’s holy texts? If I could—

“What are you doing?”

I snorted in shock when I realized she’d somehow snuck up on me. She was looking over my shoulder curiously, reading my notes. After a moment she looked over at me, then back at the book.

“I…” I hesitated, then decided I’d just have to flow with the situation. Most clients never hung around the shop. This was the first time I’d had one sit and speak with me, so I was adjusting.

“I’m deciding on how I want the basic design for your armor to go,” I flipped the page, showing diagrams of gauntlets. “I’d like it to fit with your fighting style, but the aesthetics have to fit with your future role. I can’t simply engrave skulls on the shoulders for example.”

“Ew,” she stuck her tongue out cutely.

“Exactly. It needs show people who you are, while allowing you to fight with your full potential,” I pointed at one of the gauntlets, which had clawed fingers. “This one, for example, is a good design for someone trying to represent a predatory aesthetic. Things like spikes do the same thing. But for you, I think something from the Chapel’s texts engraved on different parts of your armor would be good.”

“Oh,” she nodded. “Sounds complicated. How long did it take you to learn all this?”

“I’m still learning, right Arthur?” we turned to look at my adopted father. He was watching us huddle over my notebook with an odd smile on his face, and nodded when I looked over at him. “Hasha, my teacher, likes to say that a person should always try to learn one new thing a day at the least. And that you should only stop when there is nothing more to learn.”

“What’s he like?” she asked.

“Hasha?” I thought about that. “Well, he’s great. He and Arthur taught me about magic and blacksmithing. He’s a good teacher.”

“I see,” she took my notebook in gentle hands. “I wish I learned about this. My teachers only taught me about fighting, the words of the text, and how to use the Light.”

“The Light?” I blinked as I watched her read my note. “You’re a paladin?”

“Oh yeah!” she gave me the notebook and smiled brightly. “I can show you later if you want?”

“Uh, sure,” I scratched my chin. “Does every paladin of the Chapel get the same training?”

He smile fell away. “…I don’t know,” She raised her left hand to rub her right upper arm. “I was always the only person learning in those classes. The only people who really spent time with me besides my teachers are Richard and Mountain. I mean, I spar with the other knights but they never fight me seriously. ‘The Prophesied Child’ must be protected. So I never had any real people to talk about this stuff with.”

Surprise filled me. That was the first time I’d heard her speak without an undercurrent of happiness in her voice. It sounded… wrong. Sad.

“Well, I suppose you have me now,” I think I was more surprised than she was when I spoke. Still, her bright smile told me I’d said the right thing. Still, I tried to joke. “I suppose if no one else is willing, a half-orc with a bad attitude will do?”

She smiled at that.

“Anyways, I think I’ll need to see how you fight,” I wrote a small annotation in my notebook. “I’ll bring a few of my things with me, my instruments and such. I can meet you in the carriage. Arthur, you want to come?”

The skinny blacksmith chuckled. “No, this is your baby, Char. I think I’ll watch and see how you do.”

“Are you sure?” I asked in surprise. It wasn’t that he was stern or untrusting, but he tended to keep a close eye on my projects while I worked.

“You’ll do fine,” he waved me off. “I’ll head to the pub and throw back a few pints.”

“Hmm?” Katya gasped in shock. “But drinking is forbidden in the sight of the Light!”

Arthur and I stopped to stare at her. Then we looked at each other, unsure how to handle this.

“…I’ll drink in shadows?” Arthur tried.

Katya puffed up her cheeks and placed her hands on her hips.

“…I suppose I’ll just settle with water,” I’d never heard Arthur so close to tears in my life.

“Good!” Katya gave Arthur a proud smile, then left the room.

“…You know that she won’t appear as soon as you drink a pint. You can still drink.”

“She’s the damn Prophesied Child,” Arthur grumbled. “And she just told me not to drink. Light save me.”

“Well, isn’t this the Light trying to save you?” I smirked at the dark look he gave me. He turned to leave, grumbling.

“Bratty kids… giant dogs… all I wanted to do was blacksmith…”

------

When I came up to the Chapel in a carriage for the second time, it was with far less tension than the first time. For one thing, I was no longer under arrest, instead riding freely next to Katya in the carriage, with a pair of guards across from us to make sure she was safe. For another, I got to see a lot more of the Chapel.

As it turned out, even the massive castle was barely scratching the surface of how big the land given to the religious sect truly was. We went around the castle through a tunnel that went underground before rising again. On the other side of the tunnel was a lake. An enormous lake surrounded by grass, and more open space than I’d ever seen in my life. After living all my life in a city, the change was significant. The familiar scents of citylife were replaced with the clear water of the lake, of grass and fresh dirt.

While the lake was the centerpiece of it all, there was much more. Buildings dotted the area around us. I could see guard towers made of wood surrounding the lake. Great castles and mansions. An island in the middle of the lake, made of what looked like light brown earth, had a small castle and a set of barracks.

And open space. More than I’d ever seen, just enormous amounts of unused land separating magnificent castles, sturdy square buildings, and…

“Is that a forest?”

Katya nodded happily. “Yes! Isn’t it nice?”

Nice nothing. This was… impossible. Full grown castles were an expense beyond counting. And I could see five, including the one behind me! Hadn’t I felt sorry for the Prophesied Child? For being forced to live only in the Chapel? When this was her home?

I pushed down my envy with the ease of long practice.

“You live here?”

“Oh, no,” she shook her head firmly. “I’m only allowed out for thirty minutes a day, or when training. The rest of the time I live in the main castle.”

My envy eased, and I felt guilty for that. How terrible a person am I, that her life of imprisonment made me feel better about my own life?

I resolved once more to make her the best armor I could, Maybe then I would feel better about my envy.

“So, you need to see me fight, right?” Katya asked. She seemed less bashful now that we were on her territory.

“Yes,” I answered her, trying to ignore the beautiful view outside the windows. “I need to see how you move, how you use your sword, and so on. While the armor itself can be standard in design, I must understand how you comport yourself in battle in order to prepare the runes I’ll using.”

The guards seemed startled when they heard me speak. I have no idea why. Katya simply nodded, then leaned her head out the window.

“Richard!”

I heard hoofbeats come closer, then saw the dour face of Richard. Mountain was striding somewhere behind him, furred form easily keeping pace with the trotting horses. “My lady?”

“We can set up a fight for Char to see me in battle, right?” Katya said with a lot more eagerness than I would have expected from such a sweet person.

“I’ve already sent word ahead my lady,” He smiled fondly at her. “I dare say you’ll be able to knock a bit of humility into a few of the boys soon enough.”

“Poor bastards,” one of the guards whispered just out of earshot of the Prophesied Child.

------

We headed towards the island in the center of the lake, which had a stone bridge large enough for our group to cross with ease going to it. The castle on the island was really more of a small manor, and rather less ostentatious than the main castle. If the main castle was a gilded knight, then this smaller one, with grey stone and metal gates, was a battle-scarred soldier.

Next to the castle were stables, a low set of wooden building, and a small clearing surrounded by a low fence where five knights stood waiting, all dressed in full armor, carrying various weapons, and wearing helmets that hid their features. The carriage stopped in front of that clearing, and Katya happily hopped out of the carriage. Richard got off his horse and nodded to a man standing by with a dull steel training sword. The man, who was a little older than me, stepped forward and held out the hilt of the beat up longsword as though he was bequeathing a crown.

“Thank you,” Katya took the blade by the hilt with an eager grin, turning to look at the five knights waiting in the clearing.

I blinked at the change that came over her. The sweet young girl seemed to fade away. Instead, she suddenly have a happy, yet vicious smile on her face. Her entire body seemed to shift with energy. She slowly walked towards the five knights in the clearing. Her hand flipped the sword into a twirling pattern.

“You ever see a paladin fight orcling?” Richard asked as Mountain walked over to join us, sitting on his haunches.

“Hmm?” I looked at Richard. He smirked at me. “Uh, no. I haven’t had the uh, the pleasure.”

“Well, then I suppose this will be quite the experience for you,” he leaned against the wooden fence surrounding the clearing. Mountain came on my other side, pnating joyously.

Katya giggled as the five men began to circle her. Then, she leaped forward, towards a knight on her right. The man carried a large shield and a mace, and he swung it the instant she came close. I cried out when she did nothing to block the attack, only rushing towards him.

A blaze of Light surrounded her at the exact moment she was going to be hit. It solidified into a field around her body, forcing the mace back.

“Ha!” Katya cried.

In a fluid motion, she moved into his guard. Her blade slammed into his right hand, forcing him to drop the mace, then smacked his helmeted head with the flat of the blade. A loud ringing filled the air. She didn’t stop, still moving with that blazing speed to press a hand to his chest. An explosion of Light magic came from her palm, sending the heavily armored knight flying like a leaf on the wind.

As he rolled on the ground to a stop, his brother knights confronted Katya. She giggled once more as the two swung claymore at her, her eyes bright with joy. She leaped over blow, ducked, twisted, and danced with incredible speed. Bursts of illumination followed her motions, and for a moment I tried to understand why.

Then I realized she was boosting her speed by using magic to push her in concentrated bursts. It was subtle, but her constant use of it made it clear what was happening. Using this, she was using it with her already prodigious speed to simply dance around the two knights claymores.

Soon she started fighting back. She released a brief amount of Light magic from all over her body, sending the two men back a step. The other two, had been forced to maneuver around their brethren, stepped around to attack her, on with a long spear, the other with a longsword of his own.

She stepped around the spear in a flash of Light, then grabbed it and moved it to block the longsword. The spear knight, on seeing she had his spear, lashed out with a fist. She ducked and snapped her hand out. Light came out in the form of a rope, wrapping around the spear knights ankle. She tugged him off his feet, then turned to engage the longsword knight.

Physical manifestation of magic? How powerful was she?

Even as I stared, I started writing notes. She obviously had a preference for speed and agility in combat, using that do defend herself along with her magic. Runes to lighten the weight of armor would be good. As I watched, she used her magic less, conserving it. Signs of needing to conserve energy? Maybe I could use one of the runes of magic regen that Hasha used in his robes, help her get some of that lost energy back over time? Or create a battery of sorts? I’d need to research, see how Light magic responded to my runes. Maybe I could even boost her magical strength as well?

Even as I continued to think, Katya was still fighting. Even without magic, she was clearly a well traied duelist, and she took on the longsword knight with incredible speed, their blades slamming into each other to a rhythm only they could understand. Until finally, Katya outpaced him. With a parry, she stepped forward and slammed the pommel of her blade into the forehead of his helmet. He staggered back, shouting in pain. She punched his chest, and a burst of Light sent him flying.

The last two knights, the claymore ones, rushed her. As they swung their massive blades, she turned to giggle one more, her eyes alight once more.

“Watch this, Char!”

Then she was blazing once more with Light. She disappeared, then reappeared right next to the rightmost claymore knight. A sickening crack filled the air before he fell back, a dent in his chestplate where she’d slammed the tip of her blade into the hardened armor.

I winced. Even with padding, that would cause quite the bruise. Mountain barked again, seemingly delighted at the sight of his master winning.

The other knight roared, swinging his blade around at her chest. She flipped in the air, allowing the blade to swing beneath her, and landed on his shoulders in an incredible display of agility, sitting down with her legs wrapped around his head. With brutality I never expected of her, she slammed her metal encased elbows into his head over and over, moving so quickly the air whistled. She hopped off of him, flipping back to look at him.

The poor knight took a single step forward. Then he fell over.

“Woohoo!” Katya cheered, lifting a fist in the air. “That was fun!”

I stared, my writing having stilled for a moment. Mountain growled happily, then barked, his loud volume shaking the air and bringing me back to reality.

Fun. Right. That had been one of the most brutal things I’d ever seen.

The image of a dwarf getting his head slammed into a wall filled my mind.

Second most brutal thing then.

She turned to look at us, waving happily. “Hey! How’d I do!?”

Richard smirked. “Almost perfectly, my lady.”

“Almost?” she looked crestfallen.

“Yes,” he pointed at a spot behind her shoulder. “You missed one.”

The flat of a blade tapped gently on the side of her head from behind her. She turned to see the spear knight, the one that she’d pulled off his feet with the Light rope holding a spear to her face. He tapped her with the spear again, then lifted a hand to his helmet. He removed the helmet and placed his spear on the ground.

“Should have finished me off little one,” A grizzled old face with dark skin and wrinkles gazed at her, smiling just a bit. “Then I wouldn’t be able to backstab you.”

“Backstab?” Katya frowned disapprovingly. “That’s not honorable.”

“Honor is how we fight, Lady Katya,” the older man rested his spear against his shoulder. “We take our enemies head on, crush them with overwhelming force. But our enemies, and even our allies, have no need for honor. If they could, they would kill you in your sleep. Fight with honor. But when you defeat your opponent? Crush them.”

Katya nodded, smiling as happily as though he’d given her a new toy. “Yes Father Maxwell!”

I blinked. “That man is a priest?”

“Yes,” Richard hopped over the fence with the spryness of of younger man. “We just have a much more proactive view of prayers.”

“…You are a priest?”

Mountain barked happily. Richard chuckled lightly, striding over to Katya. I quickly stashed away my notebook and hopped over the fence as well. Even in armor, I was still larger and heavier than Richard, the wooden posts groaned as I leapt it. It held however, and I walked over to join Katya.

She turned a smile to me before the old knight stepped in between us. He glowered at me, and I slowed my walk. Despite being bigger than him, he was very intimidating. Especially considering the spear he was carrying.

“You are Char.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” I kept my tone level.

“Hn,” he nodded over his shoulder at Katya. “She seems to trust ya. More than our armorers here anyways. You made a lot of folk mad boy, calling out their craftsmanship like that.”

I stared down at him for moment. “…I wouldn’t have called them out, if they had done their jobs. If she’d gone into battle in her last armor, she would have been the instant she fought someone who knew what they were doing. She’s a good person. I have no problem taking a bit of hatred if it ends up saving her life.”

He searched my face as I glared seriously at him. After a moment he chuckled. “I think I like ya boy. Richard over there doesn’t. But I do. Any man who speaks his mind even while terrified is a good one by me.”

Damn. I’d been trying to hide my fear. But the longer I spent time around men with swords glaring at me when Katya wasn’t looking, the more scared and angry I became.

“Don’t worry,” he patted me on the shoulder, having to reach up a bit. “Just crack some heads later. That’ll get their respect.”

Wondering if he was crazy, I let myself be guided over to Richard and Katya. Richard poked her hip as we came up, and she winced in pain.

“As I thought,” he said firmly. “You let a claymore get you.”

She had? Damn, they were faster than I’d thought. Maybe I should make something for my helm to allow me to see things at a faster rate of perception, so I could see a move like that later? Of course, the chances I’d ever need something that for battle wasn’t high, but it might let me see the movement of other things at a slower rate-of-motion, and help me perceive such things with greater clarity, which might be invaluable for research.

“I’m fine,” Katya complained.

“You need healing,” Richard chided. “I’ll take you to a medic.”

“Aww,” she pouted.

Richard turned to me. “You can stay here. I’ll come back in a bit. I assume you have notes to do?”

I nodded.

“Right. There’s a table in the stables you can use I think.”

“Thank you,” I watched the pair walk off, Katya acting like a petulant child towards her father, Mountain panting happily, and Richard chiding her as they went. A contingent of guards followed her, leaving me with the apparent priest.

“Well, I’ll head out as well,” Father Maxwell rested his spear on his shoulders, arms lying across the length of it. “Need a drink I think. Girl always hits so damn hard.”

“Priests can drink?”

“Depends on the priest,” I watched him walk off, then left to the stables.

With no one around but the other guards, I felt more relaxed. The stables were very open, with only a few horses, a large bear, and a massive goat in the stables. All the animals looked like they were built for war, with rippling muscles and hard eyes. The goat and the bear must have been gifts from some dwarf’s. Those were their most popular mounts after all, next to the large earthdigging moles they’d bred.

I found the table and sat down. The first step was figuring out her needs. The basics were simple, such as armor strengthening, and enhancements to lighten weight or resist certain attacks, but what was important? She was to be the hero of the land after all. More than that, she’d been nice to me. So I needed to make armor to match her.

I’d need a closer look at that Light magic of hers. Maybe, I could help her channel it into runes. She apparently had amazing control over it. What if we could take that further? Make it so she could depend further on that ability.

But wait, would that be seen as some form of religious sacrilege?

Damn, I’d need to read up on the Chapel of Valor’s laws as well. This armor was representing them as well, and I wanted to respect their religious practices, even if I wasn’t a believer. So now that I knew what she could do, it was time to figure out how to further boost her abilities, and possibly give her new ones as well.

I made several more annotations to my notes, then flipped through the pages of my notebook. Now, obviously I’d use mannaz… but then I wanted the armor to be a fluid piece. Lets see, maybe if—

A hand reached out and took my notebook away. I blinked dumbly, trying to understand what just happened. Then I looked up.

Four knights, all wearing the tabards of the Chapel of Valor, but blue rather than the black I’d gotten used to. They also seemed younger than the group Katya had fought, with less of a surety about themselves. One was standing directly in front of me, holding my notebook.

He was what Jennifer would have called a ‘pretty boy’. He had bright green eyes, tousled black hair, and was smiling brilliantly. Arthur would have said he had a weak chin.

He flipped my notebook to look at it. “Well, well. So you really can read,” he chuckled, giving me that smile again. “I’d heard, but I didn’t really believe it. Who taught you, orcling?”

I frowned at him. “My teacher. May I have my notebook back please? I’m deciding on the armor I’m designing for Katy—…for the Prophesied Child.”

“Oh, of course!” To my surprise, he actually handed it back. I took it in my hands, and slowly pulled it away as he smiled nicely. I put the notebook down and pressed my—

“What is that?”

Annoyed at the interruption, I looked up at him, then down at the object in my hand.

“…It’s graphite wrapped by wood. I use it to write.”

“Really now? Where did you get such a thing?”

I sighed. For some reason, I found this person far more annoying than Katya, whose questions had only bother me for a moment. With this man, I could feel my patience wearing thin. “I got it from my teacher. He has a friend who got him a small supply that she invented, and she sends him small boxes every now and then. Now please, I just want to work.”

His eyes seemed to flash. “Oh, feeling temperamental are we?”

I sighed. As annoying as he was, I supposed there was no need to snap at him. “My apologies, I simply—”

“Oh no, no. no,” he chuckled a bit. “I understand. Feeling a bit frustrated? Like you need to take it out on someone?”

“What?” I frowned. Realization quickly dawned. Still, I tried to salvage the situation. “No, I just want to work.”

“Noooo,” the handsome knight laughed. His friends did so as well, the three of them unable to keep from making the sound somehow ugly. “See, I understand your frustration,” He patted my hand. I pulled it back hurriedly, and his smile widened. “You must want to fight for a bit, yes? A good bout in the ring, get that anger off your chest?”

I frowned at him. He only chuckled cheerily.

“How about it orcling!? A quick spar, you and I!”

As he said this, I looked outside. All of the guards were gone. The only ones here were the animals. In the literal and metaphorical sense.

I looked back at the young man. “No thank you.”

He pouted mockingly. “Aw, are you sure? Isn’t that a shame boys? He doesn’t want to play.”

“Mean of him,” one said, with far less charm than his leader. Though to be fair, his helmet did muffle his voice. “Come on orcling. Just one match.”

“Yeah!” another said with a laugh. “Tell you what, you don’t even have to use a sword! No need to worry about you accidently cutting yourself! Keep things nice and safe.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And you?”

“Oh, I’ll be using my sword,” the leader chuckled again. He seemed to like doing that. “I’m trained, so don’t worry. I know how to use this safetly.”

As he patted the sword at his side, I frowned. “Why are you doing this?”

For the first time, the handsome man stopped smiling. He gave me an almost sad smile. “…Does it matter?”

“…I suppose it doesn’t,” I said softly.

It was true. The reason for it didn’t matter too much at the moment. For whatever reason, they wanted me to fight their leader. The reasons for it could wait. For now, I had to deal with the situation.

Four armored knights, all armed with blades, and all trained. Even with my strength, I wasn’t invulnerable to pointed steel.

But one on one? Maybe I stood a chance.

I slowly put my notebook away in my satchel. Then I rose up.

“…Light,” one of them said in awe. I had towered over the all. Hunched over the small table, writing in my notebook, they must not have comprehended how big I was. Now, they could see me for my full size.

Feeling a bit more confident. I strode forward. The leader, his face growing more serious, turned to lead the way. His friends surrounded me, as though to keep me from running. I considered that. Even with my size, I was faster than most thanks to Hasha’s physical training regimen, though I’d fallen behind in that a bit.

But I discarded the idea. If they were truly trained, a single sword jammed into my chest would do the job of killing me. Better to fight.

The leader took a position in the clearing. His friends stood around us, leaving plenty of room for me and him.

“No weapons or armor at all?”

The man smiled smarmily. “Where would we find armor to fit one of your… girth? And as I said, I worry for your safety, orcling! We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

I found myself oddly offended at the first remark. My girth was fine, if you asked me.

“Now, bow!” he did so. When I didn’t, he pouted once more. “Now orcling, if you don’t follow the rules—”

Right, that was about enough of that.

“My name,” he stopped, eyes widening at the sound of my voice growling outward, “is Char. Not orcling. We both know what this is. Let’s get on with it.”

The leader and his three knights looked at each other. Then, he shrugged. Just like that, he was leaping towards me, sword swinging at me.

My first thought was that Katya was a much better fighter. There was a grace to her, an incredible adaptability to her fighting style. His was far less trained, despite being (presumably) older than her.

My second thought was to bemoan how little that mattered. If she was better than him, he absolutely towered over me.

I blocked his blade with my arms, forced to let the sword slice into my right forearm rather than my face and chest. Pain blossomed at the same time as blood, and I tried to pull back, to get some room. He came forward in steps, stabbing at my chest with horrifying speed.

Eyes widening, I twisted out of the way, but still sustained a cut to my stomach as when he turned the thrust into a slice. I was momentarily thrown back to the alley where the three men had attacked me.

I was scared. And I was also getting angry.

Roaring, I lashed out with a fist. He ducked the blow, and stepped into kick at my knee. My leg crumbled under the blow. I fell, and tried to hit him again. He hopped back, letting my fist slip past him, then stepped in to slice at my shoulder.

I roared again, and rolled away, pain blossoming in my wounds as dust slipped into them. The handsome, face grim, sliced at me again, forcing me to block with my left arm. When I roared this time, I could feel the air shake. He stepped back in shock, letting me rise up.

I rushed at him. He raised his sword and stabbed it deep into my other shoulder. I screamed now, but still grabbed him by his face and started to squeeze. A red haze was filling my eyes. Rage, fear, and hate filled me.

Panicking as I squeezed his skull, he pulled his sword out of my shoulder with liquid sound, then slammed it into my chest. I roared in pain, pushing him back. Staggering, roaring, and clutching at the wounds, I pressed my back against the fence behind me. I roared again, trying to scare him back.

He smiled, as cheerily as he had from the start. His friends watched on in silence.

“I really am sorry about this, orcling.” He chuckled. “But an orc, half or otherwise, hanging around the Prophesied Child? This simply won’t do.” He raised his sword up high. “Goodbye orcling.”

…Orcling. He was going to kill me. And he wasn’t even going to remember my name.

That galvanized me. I was a person damnit. Not just a half-orc, to be killed for existing, for being in the way. And damned if I was going to die to this damn pretty boy, weak chinned, knight.

I grabbed the fence post behind me. It was stuck deep in the ground. It was sturdy, well-chosen wood. It had to be, if it was to survive whatever was going to be thrown at it.

Wrapping my fingers around it, I pulled upwards in a sudden explosive movement. I swung outwards as I roared louder than I ever had in my life. I’d always held back my strength on some level, never giving it my all.

Now, with my life on the line, I swung that wooden post with every bit of energy I had. The handsome man’s eyes widened when dirt and wood snapped behind me. He tried to block the wood. But physics was against him. A piece of wood as thick as my leg, swung with my strength, and moving at speed.

His sword was pushed aside, and the wood slammed into his arm. He screamed as his armor dented inwards.

Now fully enraged, I stepped forwards and swung again. He sliced at my thigh, laying a deep cut there, but I ignored it to smack him in the chest. Even in my rage, some part of me was still able to hold on enough to guide my movements. When he staggered back, eyes full of fear, and tried to stab me again, I aimed the post at his dominant hand.

The sound of bones cracking filled the air.

“AAAUGH!” he fell to his knees, tears in his eyes. “No, Light no!”

I hesitated. Even in my rage, I didn’t want to kill him.

“Get him!” One of his friends cried.

He leaped at me, slashing at my throat. Instinctively, I swung the makeshift club at his chest. His armor dented inwards. I think he tried to scream, but the armor pressing in on his lungs prevented that. As he fell back, scrambling at his chestplate, pain at my back nearly staggered me. I fell to a knee, and reached out a desperate hand. A squawk followed my hand grabbing a tabard. I pulled, hard, bringing the knight to the ground before me. Forgoing the wooden post, I instead punched the man in his face. My knuckles met a solid metal helm, and I grimaced at the pain as a ringing sound filled the air. Another burst of pain in my back told me the last knight was stabbing me again. The one on the ground punched me in the face, his steel gauntlets breaking the skin and pouring blood into my eyes.

Somewhere in my mind, even with the blood blinding me, I managed to keep my intelligence. When I wiped away another I noticed a crack in the armor of the man I had pressed to the ground as I knelt. A long mark where a smith had repaired it. But they’d botched the job.

Raising the post high, I slammed it into his armor, right on the crack. The armor shattered along the small crack. When I hit him again, his eyes widened behind his helm, then closed.

I swung a fist out at the last knight. Like his leader, he stepped back to avoid the attack, then stabbed me in the same shoulder his leader had sliced open first.

I lost all control then. I swung the post, sweeping his feet out from under him. I raised the post high, ready to kill him, to end the threat—

“What in hell!?” I looked up. Richard was rushing towards us. “What happened here!?”

I stared at him, uncomprehending. Then I realized what I’d been ready to do. Sickened, I dropped the post. The man I’d been ready to kill stared up at me, eyes fearful.

“H…He was going to kill me!”

Richard hopped over the fence, spitting to the side as he came. “I saw it all,” I stiffened, opened my mouth to defend myself. “Four knights, fighting an unarmed man! What in the Light were you thinking!? You damn fools! I’ll have you in stocks!”

The man on the ground stared in shock, then looked around. His leader was staring at the proceedings, still cradling his hand as he cried. The other two men had passed out.

“Look at what he did to us!”

Richard scoffed. “Of the people here, who is soaked in blood?”

They looked at me. My wounds were slowly leaking now. With the threat passing, I was getting wearier by the minute. I was still on my knees, and didn’t feel like getting up.

“Hmph,” Richard came forward and wrapped my right arm around his shoulders. With surprising strength, he tugged me to my feet. “Go get to a medic on your own. Any of you damn fools die, do it away from the water we drink.”

“B-But sir!” said the leader.

“You tried to kill a man,” Richard turned his eyes towards the shocked leader. “I hate orcs too. But damned if I’ll kill one that hasn’t tried to kill me. I have my damn honor. Now either run, or deal with the guards I’ll be sending to collect you.”

As he helped me walk, I noticed the bear in the stables staring out at me. And I couldn’t help but think on the black rage that had filled me. That had saved my life even as it compelled me to take another.

In the end I was right. The only ones around were the animals.

------

True to his word, the first thing Richard did when he’d dragged me back to the castle was call the guards to grab the knights in the clearing. Two others took me from him, and he led them to a medic.

Soon, glowing hands were pressed to my skin. The medic, a dwarven woman raised an eyebrow as she took note of the slices in my skin. She had pale white eyes, and skin and hair even darker than Father Matthew’s. “What happened to this one?” she asked Richard.

“Training accident,” he gave me a hard look when I opened my mouth. I shut it again.

“With what pray tell?” she asked. Shaking her head, she turned to a set of shelves. Taking a few bottles down, she mixed a few liquids together as I watched. When she was done, she handed me a cup full of a dark green liquid. “This is—”

“An antibiotic?” I took the glass, noting the familiar smell. “My master uses something like this. But there’s…” I stopped. Then I stared at her, hard. “An expectorant.”

“A what?“ Richard asked as the dwarven woman dark cheeks started to somehow pale.

“It’s emetic,” he gave me an annoyed glance. “It will make me throw up.”

“…I’ll finish this up,” under Richard’s stern eyes, she finished healing me. Hesitantly, she put another glass, this one filled with a different colored liquid, on a table next to the bed she’d been taking care of me on, then rushed out.

Richard watched her go, then looked at me. “Did you really smell all that?”

I scoffed. “Of course not. I’m still learning that. I just read the labels on the bottles.”

“Hn,” he grunted. “Funny.”

“Her little prank or mine,” I grumbled.

“…A bit of both,” he admitted. He shrugged when I glared at him. “I told you. I don’t like orcs.”

“Then why help me?”

He frowned. “Katya,” when I quirked an eyebrow at him, he explained further. “She likes you. Is starting to trust you.”

“…She’s a good person.”

“Yeah, well…I’m not,” He stared at me, blue eues searching as his craggy face twisted. “Like I said, I don’t like orcs. And I don’t like you. You know too damn much. It’s unnatural, an orc that can recognize the names of medicine with a glance. You beat four trained knights with a big stick.”

“They were trying to kill me,” I growled, rising slightly from the bed.

“I know,” he frowned. “I don’t trust you. You’re unnatural. But… I can respect a man who wins a fight against those kinds of odds.”

I stopped. He shrugged.

“It is what it is. I’ve seen too much orcling, to trust or like you. But the law is the law, and you have followed it. I saw those knights force you to fight from the windows of the castle. You only struck when struck. For that, the law says you deserve protection. So follow it, do right by Katya, and you’ll have my protection, should you need it.”

“…Thank you.”

He grimaced at my gruff gratitude. “Light, please don’t thank me. Downright unnatural you are.”

I managed a dark chuckle at that. “You might be right about that… you going to tell the Prophesied Child about this?”

He thought about that. “No. She needs to focus on her coming battle in the den of monsters. If she’s worried about you, then she might lose that focus.”

For a moment, I wanted to rebel. Just for the sake of it. But I decided against it, simply nodding. Then, a question that had been burning inside me for a while came out.

“Why are you letting me do this?” he gave me a level look. “There are other blacksmiths in the city. You have access to the Jarvin Tower wizards. I guarantee that both the blacksmiths and the wizards would offer up their right arms for the chance to help the Prophesied Child. So… why are you letting me, a half-orc, do this, when you hate me?”

“Because Katya asked.” Richard declared.

“You’re telling me that because she asked, you agreed?” I shook my head. “Was it really so simple?”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “You have no idea how I argued with her. I was grateful when you brought it to her attention that she had no real armor. I myself assumed it was still being made, only to discover some daft fool didn’t even allow that request through. Then she asked for ‘Char’ to do the work. I fought her on that. Told her of the many experts of the kingdom who would be willing to do the job. As you noted, the commission would have no end of volunteers. Even if they weren’t believers, the Chapel has more than enough coin to pay for the job.”

He snorted. “But no. Char, or nobody…” he looked thoughtful. “The last thing she asked for, really asked for, was Mountain.”

“It doesn’t comfort me that I apparently the same as the dog.”

He snorted again. Then he rose up. “Can you walk?”

“I think so.”

“Good. Now get up,” he slapped me on the shoulder. I winced, only to realize my stab wound was gone.

“Huh. Good healer.”

He frowned at the wound, as confused as I was at the disappearance of my wounds, before shrugging it off. “Come on. I assume you have everything you need?”

“Enough to get started,” I rose, straightening my back.

Time to get to work.

------

Hasha came by the next day. I was in the middle of drawing up the schematics for Katya’s armor. She was busy training, so there were no guards or giant dog to bring attention to the little shop. And yet, his first question when he came in after Arthur let him into the workshop was, “What has been happening?”

I turned to look at him. He was dressed in his normal clothes, a simple shirt and trousers, and looking at us with curiosity. Arthur and I shared an awkward glance.

“Well…” Arthur coughed.

“Do you remember the Reveal of the Prophesied Child?” I said.

“Yeeess,” Hasha said slowly. “I went, remember?”

“And how did that go?” I asked.

“It was a mess,” he answered, still looking between us. “She disappeared right in the middle. She came back eventually, but all the higher ups were making a fuss over the whole debacle… Why?”

We quickly explained everything. The only part I left out was the knights that attacked me. Soon enough Hasha was sitting in a chair, contemplating our words.

“The dog was how big?” he finally asked.

“Taller than me,” I raised a hand to demonstrate.

“Hmm. Possible spirit origin maybe? Wait, no!” he shook his head furiously. “Char, you need to get out of this situation! Avoid dealing with the Chapel! Hell, run away like you were planning too!”

I was taken aback at the vehemence in his words. “It isn’t any fun, but I promised Katya—”

“Hang promises, and hang the damn Prophesied Child!” He sliced the air with a hand. “This is not—”

“Hasha!” Arthur barked. The wizard stopped to look at him. Arthur glared, his eyes hard. “Why don’t you explain what has you acting like a witless damn coward? Speak like a rational elf you daft fool!”

At this caustic cry, Hasha seemed to calm. He looked between us, swallowing as though he had a lump in his throat. He tried to speak, only to stop hesitantly. He sighed, and looked down at the ground.

“I need a drink. Do you have anything, Arthur?”

Arthur and I shared a surprised glance. Hasha didn’t drink. He prided himself on keeping complete control of his facilities at all times. For him to give that up…

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I’ve got something,” Arthur rose and head into the house. As his footsteps could be heard going upstairs, I opened my mouth to speak.

“Not yet, Char.”

My mouth clicked shut.

“I-I need the drink,” Hasha rubbed his face. “Old memories. I don’t like alcohol. But it… gives me an excuse, I suppose. Like a mental trigger. Helps me speak.

I didn’t say anything. I just stared at him. This man who had always seemed so much larger-than-life, who could twist the very fabric of the world to follow his commands, had always been so strong. And now, sitting there, all I could think about was how small he looked.

Arthur returned with a small flask. He wordlessly tossed it over to Hasha, who caught it without looking. He opened it up and took a sip as Arthur sat down again. He swallowed the drink, his eyes rising up from the floor.

“I was an adventurer once,” Hasha said with a suddenness that surprised me. “I don’t know if I ever told you about it. I’m proud of that time in my life. When other wizards were sequestering themselves in their towers, I was out in the world, studying magic and applying it to the real world. I learned more while deep in dirt and blood, or while digging through ruins, than most wizards learn from decades of texts. That’s the secret to true learning, haven’t I told you? To do the magic, not simply hear about. A dry text on the migration patterns of salmon is nothing compared to watching as flashes of red flow upstream in a tireless mass.”

He took another sip.

“But that life wasn’t all good. My travels required money. And that meant I had to work. Me and others, simple soldiers, old thieves, fellow magic users, we worked together to do whatever jobs needed doing. I spent fifty years that way. And after a while, I’d explored most of Turab. Even the Orc Badlands to the south,” he looked up to smile at the shocked look on my face. “Oh yes. It is a harsh land, full of turmoil, and darkness. And beautiful land, with great people, and landscapes. True, most of them tried to kill me and my friends. But I rather liked them.”

He sighed.

“But that is a story for later.”

I almost interrupted. I was burning with curiosity when it came to Orc Badlands. All the texts would say was stories of how horrible it was. And all this time, Hasha had been there? What was the culture like? The landscape? The people? How did they eat?

Was I anything like them?

I’d noticed so many similarities between myself and humans. Would I find the same with orcs? Would those similarities cross species?

I swallowed my tongue. However burning my curiosity, Hasha was already having a hard time speaking about this. I’d have to ask at a later time.

Hasha took a large swig from the flask, swallowing the alcohol.

“When I’d finished with Turab, I looked out to the East. We’d started trading in earnest with our Eastern brethren, and I was curious about the stories I’d heard about them. About the different animals and people that populated it, all the different colonies that had reached it. So, I joined a fishing vessel, and headed out. It was good work, fishing. Honest labor can be good for the soul, and this was,” he smiled fondly. “When we reached the continent, I did my usual thing. Read a few books, spoke to villagers, and simply immersed myself into the life. Once I learned the language, I began to enjoy life there. The Eastern continent was nice. And one day, a messenger came from a village further inland. He was desperate. Claimed the people of a strange religion had come into the village, and started killing people.”

I didn’t speak, but I felt a deep unease in my soul.

“Well, how could one hesitate? Me and some others, travelling fighters like me, gathered together. One was even an old friend… she makes me graphite writing tools now. Good woman. Anyways,” He rubbed his cheek. “We uh, we left for the village. It was about uh, about three days journey, but we managed to make it in two thanks to some knowledgeable… Well, they don’t call them knight on the Eastern Continent, but that’s our closest equivalent, and there were two of them with us. But, we were too late.”

He went to drink, but the flask was empty. He tossed it to Arthur. Arthur took it, and smoothly pulled a different one out, tossing it to Hasha, who gratefully took a swig. He sat silently. I almost thought he wouldn’t speak again.

“They’d killed them with purpose first,” he said suddenly. “’Only four year olds, and no others. Four years old…They worked with efficiency. House by house, killing the babes as their parents fought and wept. They claimed they were trying to be kind, to make it an easy process. What kind of man claims to be kind when he slaughters children? What does it matter if the people you kill are four, fourteen, or even forty year old men? They have done…How can you justify killing an innocent?”

His next swallow sent him into a coughing fit. I moved to pat him on the back, but he waved me off. Once he was done clearing his throat, he continued.

“They uh, they’d heard stories. You see, they, the Chapel of Valor of course, had set up their first foothold on the Eastern Continent almost immediately. They’re very proactive that way. I suspect that is why they choose Jarvin as their base for the Prophesied Child. With its status as a trade hub, word could be sent with the merchants and travelers…But that isn’t important.”

He put down the flask. “They set up a town on the coast, and their priests started spreading word of their religion. Then, they must have heard something from one of the villagers. A story about a child, born four years before their arrival. A demonic child,” he scowled, his elvish good looks becoming something horrific. “The damn fools didn’t question it. They went to the village and started slaughtering children in the name of finding this child. And when they ran out of four year olds, they kept going. The village wasn’t very large, but they tried to resist. But against the full might of the Chapel’s paladins and priests…”

I thought briefly of Katya, of the sheer speed and ferocity she’d fought with. Then of the knight’s I’d fought, and how close they’d come to killing me despite my orcish advantages. That sort of terror, inflicted on a normal populace? I shuddered at the thought.

“We fought them back. Sixteen adventures against hundreds of Chapel warriors. Only five survived. But we had the element of surprise. We didn’t rally the villagers, we didn’t come up with clever tactics. All we could do was rush in and kill as quickly as we could,” he spoke with an odd satisfaction. “To this day, I have never seen as much blood, or seen as many innocents, monsters, and friends die in the span of a single hour. In the midst of the chaos, I found the child. The true child, hidden away with his family in a basement.”

He laughed bitterly.

“Half-elf! The Eastern Continent doesn’t have elves! The girl’s mother fell in love with a human when she went there, and villagers were simply confused at the sight of their ears,” he tapped his own. “The Eastern Continent has a different view of such things. So they simply called them demons, like they call many spirits demons. And the damn Chapel of Valor didn’t ask for details. They split children in twain, tortured them to admit their demonic heritage, forced grandmothers to strangle their grandchildren as penance for imagined sins…”

He spat to the side. “That, is the Chapel of Valor that I know. Overenthusiastic in their pursuit of justice, ignorant to the point of lunacy, and proud of it. Maybe not all of them. There are good men and women every religious sect, as there are devils. But there is a sickness in the heart of the Chapel of Valor. Something rotten, corrupting good men. Your king,” he said this to Arthur, whose face, though still, had slowly paled as time went on, “supports the Chapel in all things, and he will not hear blasphemy against them. For good reason. If the Chapel of Valor, the strongest human religious institution on Turab, was to face accusations of heresy, it would fall apart. There are already lines of division in the Chapel. Groups believing in one truth over another, and willing to die to prove it. Only it’s current leadership prevents the Chapel from falling apart. But if that massacre is but one of many…” Hasha shook his head. “There would be little to stop that chaos.”

I thought about that. The Chapel was the most important religious group in Turab. Everyone followed it because…

“What about her?” Hasha looked at me. “Katya. She’s supposed to represent the Chapel soon, and she isn’t anything like what you described.” I ignored the memory of a giggling girl smashing down men like chess pieces getting knocked over. “She’s a good person. And if she represents the Chapel…” I trailed off, leaving Hasha to build the trail from there.

“Hmm,” he stroked his chin. “Yes, I suppose that, if a figure such as her was leading the charge, such things could be investigated with more ease. Then, rather than a religious sect falling apart, we would have a famed religious leader simply cleaning up a mess.”

“What, you two are planning on a revolution?” Arthur said with a scoff.

The pair of us magic users, supposed intelligent minds, froze. Then we smiled sheepishly at him.

“Heh. Yeah, I suppose I got a bit carried away.” I admitted.

“Indeed,” Hasha sighed. “Still, the idea was a fun one. While I do not follow the Chapel, seeing whatever corruption caused that massacre be swept away would be,” he swallowed away some ball of emotion in his throat. “Would be quite interesting.”

“…Well, for now I have to finish this armor,” I grumbled. With this most recent revelation, I wanted to return to the familiarity of the equations, alchemy, and smithing that was my life.

“Let me help,” Hasha rose up.

“Are you sure you’re good to work?” Arthur gazed over Hasha closely. “You drank two flasks of the strongest damn whiskey I have.”

“I didn’t tell you?” Hasha asked, startled. “I long since created runes on my clothes to protect me from poisons, so that I can work on my alchemy without fear,” he grabbed at his shirt, showing where a small symbol glowed. “Wouldn’t be much of an alchemist if I was killed by own potions after all.”

“…What a waste of damn fine whiskey,” Arthur said sadly.

“Eh, it was a bit bland.”

“Damnit elf!”

“Gentlemen,” The tall elf and skinny human turned to look at me. “I have work to do. You can help, or you can leave,” I said with a small smile.

“Well, well, the little one has become a smart arse,” Arthur teased gently.

“And to think, it seems like yesterday you were only this high,” Hasha waved his hand at a point just below his chin, and therefore taller than most men.

I felt a burst of gladness that the bad mood had been dispelled. While I was certain these revelations would have some sort of consequence, for now I had my family.

The thought of Jennifer barely crossed my mind.

“Now,” I turned to the schematic I’d hung on the wall. “I’ve decided that if I want to do this right, then I’ll need to make sure that Katya never has to go to another armourer again. She’s going to be saving the continent, correct? Then we need to make sure she has every tool she might ever need, while still boosting her abilities. So what my plan…”

We worked into the night. It felt like old times. Us three, working on a secret in between quick bites of cheap food, agreeing, arguing, and coming to new conclusions. By the time I went to sleep, I felt more content than I had in days.