“Did you see the circus performers?” A manly voice got Mannat’s attention. Two young adults were sitting under the statue and merrily talking to each other. They wore the same black scholarly garbs and held bread loaves in their hands.

The one with a flowing head of black hair answered. “I went to watch a show and I am impressed. They were throwing each other this and that way, and folding their bodies as if they had no bones! It was more fun than I had in a long time. My youngest asked them if she could join their troops and they happily agreed. Unfortunately, she didn’t meet the requirement.”

The other person gave a twirl to his mustache and asked with patience and calm unbecoming of a common person. “How long are they going to stay in the town again?”

“I heard they will be performing for the last time next week on Sunday.”

“Is that so? Then I’ll take my son to see them before they leave.”

Their conversation moved through topics, but Mannat didn’t get to hear them as their cart got through the square and entered the business district.

“Do people actually fall for their ruse?”Mannat asked after they were well past the statue.

“What do you think?”

Mannat thought and said, “I do want to see them flinging people in the air.”

His words brought Raesh to a small chuckle. “Then they are doing a great job.”

The town started right past the statue. On the wide cobbled road surrounded by square blocky buildings, the loud voices of hawkers and shopkeepers replaced the murmur and chatter of people. Mannat counted one, two, three, four vegetable sellers alone! All packed together in a line. None of them would have made a living in the village. In the town, they barely had time to breathe. There were too many people and too many buyers. Mannat even felt four were too few, there should have been a few more of them, and there were, up ahead on the road.

All the shops were fierce. The tailors he counted three. Two were near the edge and one was farther away from them, toward the town center where they were going. The shop had big glass windows displaying women's gowns and men's suits. Mannat couldn’t help staring at them through the display. The clothes were far and between those he had bought back home, but then he saw the price written underneath them on a black painted wooden board, and a frown distorted his face. For one, they were too expensive; secondly, he couldn’t believe a tailor would practice writing.

He shared his thoughts with Raesh who couldn’t find anything wrong with it. “At least the tailor would know his numbers. Moreover, tailors have dexterous hands. Anyways, how much was the coat? I think I should also buy one to meet the count.”

“The lowest price was ten silver coins.”

Raesh gave a dry cough and shook his head. “I think my old coat suits me much better.”

Mannat heard his father mumbling about the price and complaining about it before the town and its festive nature stole away his attention again. When he came back, the cart had already stopped moving and they were standing in front of the blacksmiths guild.

The guild building was all stone construction. It was three stories tall and in the shape of a furnace. A large hammer insignia hung at the front. The building itself was rough around the edges and gave a sense of weight to Mannat.

Mannat saw his father pull out a ruffled piece of paper from his pocket. Raesh straightened it –he almost tore it actually-- and then rolled the barrel inside the building. On entry was a large empty hall at the end of which was the Reception table. An old man sat behind the desk.

The insignia of the blacksmith guild, a hammer, and anvil, hung above his head with chains from the ceiling. Behind his back were sealed glass cabinets filled with various tools, swords, and shields.

The clerk raised his head upon hearing the doorbell. He saw them and the barrel and pressed the bell in front of him. Before Raesh got to the desk, another man with big forearms and tall stature was already on standby beside the clerk.

Mannat noticed the various banners hanging from the ceiling. The most conspicuous of which was the red outline of a mountain upon a black banner. They were the count's colors, and the mountain was his symbol. The mountain described the coal mines of the region. The mountain was red to express and commemorate the lives it had engulfed, and the blood running through its veins. The black banner described the bleakness of any other color or resources in the region.

“Yes?” The scribe asked and Raesh put the leaflet in front of him on the desk. The man, in his early forties, white hair, long beard, dark coat, looked at the order through his spectacles and gave it to the servant.

“Take the barrel inside and let an invigilator check the contents.” The scribe said.

The servant bowed then took the barrel, and rolled it into the back of the building through the door on the left of the desk.

Mannat looked around helplessly. There was so much work done in the guild he didn’t understand where to look and what to see. Most of the tapestries had various patterns, designs, pictograms engraved into them. Each wall had glass cabinets displaying a master blacksmith's work. The door handles were curvy and mirror polished. Someone had spent a lot of time forging them.

They didn’t go further than a few closed doors. The servant put the barrel into one of the unoccupied rooms and left with the order leaflet.

The room was small and it had unusual window positioning – they were by the ceiling. There were two of them and they couldn’t be opened, Mannat was sure. In the name of furniture, there was a table and four chairs inside. The ceiling was high and covered in a hexagonal beam structure. Mannat had never seen such a support structure.

“Let’s sit down,” Raesh said and Mannat followed his father to one of the two chairs. Being in a new place was tiring in itself.

“How big is the guild?” Mannat said, trying to stay occupied lest his mind wandered off to some imaginary place again. He didn’t want to miss the meeting. He expected his voice to echo in the empty room. It did rise up toward the high ceiling after bouncing off the stonewalls, but got distorted by the beams into an unrecognizable hymn and disappeared completely.

“Are you talking about the guild or the building?” The heavyset voice of his father was enough to pull him back. “The guild is present all throughout the empire.”

“Even in the war-torn southern region?” Mannat asked.

Raesh didn’t know what to tell the boy. He had only ever heard bad rumors of the region. Slavery was rampant there and people had no jobs. The southern people had the highest fertility rate in the world and had made a business out of selling people because that was one commodity they didn’t lack.

“The guild presence there is the strongest.” Suddenly a calm and pleasing voice came for the door and attracted the attention of the father, son pair. “The continuous need of weapons and other materials is paying a lot of daring smiths some very good money.”A man in his early thirties entered the room with deliberately loud footsteps. He grinned meeting Mannat’s eyes.

“Kuber,” Mannat heard next to him and saw a smile forming on his father’s face and relaxed his vigilance. It was the invigilator. The two men seemed to know each other.

“You are a week early, master.” The man exclaimed. The way he said it made Raesh sit straight on the chair.

The man reminded Mannat of Pandit. They both seemed to share an unusual quirk to make their friend's life difficult.

Raesh clicked his tongue. “What do I feel like you are making fun of me?”

“Perhaps,” The man said stopping in front of them. “You are right and it’s exactly what I’m doing?”

Raesh stood up grinning. They shook hands.

“How are you finding the guild?” Raesh asked and Kuber shook his head groaning.

“What is there to find in the guild? I am bored all day. I should have never transferred here. At least--” The man looked at Raesh and hesitated.

“Still thinking about the money?”

The man scoffed. “I would be handling some noble’s treasury if I liked money. The only reason I work here is to see masters like you, my good friend.”

“Is that so?” Raesh smirked.

“You hurt me, old friend.” The man sighed and acted hurt before letting out a snort. “But you are not wrong either.”

The two shared a laugh. They pushed each other, grabbed hands, and pulled. Of course, the man was no match for Raesh’s strength and couldn’t hold off being pulled into a hug. They hugged tightly in fondness before separating.

Mannat had –after years of search-- finally found another man beside his father whose laughter could shake the walls and scare the birds. No wonder they had become acquaintances.

He had never seen his father so free with anyone other than his mother. Goes to say how little he knew about his parent’s life, while they knew everything about him.

Most people only worry about things they can see and hear. He was no different. He had also never wondered about his grandparents until his father told him about them.

“Well, congratulations on achieving your lifelong goal. Now you can finally work your way toward specialization.”

Mannat’s ears perked at the suggestion, while his father’s face twitched in annoyance.

“You had to bring it up, didn’t you? You know it’s impossible to get specialization without Empire’s help. There is no way they will look at me. I’m too old.”

“Yes, you are right, and I’m wrong in believing in you.” The words came off Kuber’s tongue as if he had spoken them countless times before – perhaps, he had. Raesh tried to refute his baseless claim, but he was ignored.

Kuber had moved his attention to Mannat. “Say, is that who I think he is?”

“I thought you had a perfect memory and could remember everything. Was that a lie?”

“You must be joking,” Kuber said looking straight into Mannat’s eyes. It didn’t take him long to remember those vibrant green eyes as if he hadn’t already recognized Mannat from his red hair.

“I can’t believe the little kid who had to raise his head to look at me has suddenly grown so tall.” Kuber stretched a hand forward and Mannat took it in strides.

Mannat couldn’t believe how small the hand was. Even Sharmilla didn’t have such soft and gentle hands.

Kuber had sunken eyes and dark circles beneath them. Mannat’s mind had tried comparing him to Sarpanch, as that sly man also had no clauses on his hands. Those tired, wise eyes told him he was wrong.

They shook hands.

Kuber ruffled his red hair and said, “I still remember the first time your father brought you here. You had so many questions! I could hardly keep you occupied. Now, look at you. Are you also a blacksmith like your father?”

Mannat couldn’t nod and Raesh’s mood soured. Kuber gave a bitter smile.

“That’s all right.” He said. “Don’t be burdened by expectations. They are a dime a dozen and don’t sell for anything. You go out and find your own place in the world. All right,” He turned toward Raesh who had sobered up. The smile on his friend's face had faded and he couldn’t help cursing himself for making the mistake. “You two must be in a hurry. Let’s check your goods and set you free.”

They took seats opposite each other on the table. The servant had brought a lever and pulled the top board off the barrel with much ease. Kuber then took an arrow out and looked at it. Mannat saw his eyes moving and knew from experience the man was inspecting their work. He couldn’t help grew nervous. The man might be his father's friend, but he was also an invigilator of the guild. Though he also knew there was nothing wrong with the arrowheads, it was still nerve-wracking to have their work inspected by a third person.

Kuber didn’t react while reading the inspection result, but his haste to compare the forged arrowhead with the specimen he had brought along expressed his thoughts. The pause he took when both the arrows completely covered each other, proving they were of the exact same dimensions, was priceless in Mannat’s eyes. He looked at his father and found him smiling in satisfaction.

Kuber gently placed the arrowhead back in the barrel before putting the order on the table and stamping his approval on it.

“Not going to check the others?”

“I don’t dare,” Kuber said nonchalantly, with a hint of nostalgia showing in his voice. “You have really done it. I heard you came back a few days ago asking for a new job and upgrading your skill list. You know I have never doubted you, but it’s difficult to trust other's words. This,” he said slapping the barrel, “Is the real proof of your ability. I’m happy for you.”

Raesh sat back in the chair and crossed his arms. “You don’t look so happy, to be honest.”

Kuber finished collecting his things and looked directly at Raesh. “I’m just sad I won’t get to tease you every month from now onwards. It’s always difficult to see friends leave.”

Why would his father leave the guild? Didn’t he say he would be getting more jobs befitting his master status? Mannat wanted to ask but decided to do it later.

Kuber returned the stamped order to Raesh, who carefully took it back without looking at it.

He stiffly asked, “Are you busy later? I want to buy you a drink for old times’ sake.”

“Forgive me, but today is difficult for me. I have an appointment later with the—“

“No.” Kuber raised a hand to stop him. “Tell me over a drink if you can. Otherwise, I don’t want to know.”

Then a bell rang again and ended their session.

“Looks like our time is up,” Kuber said sadly, pushed the chair back, and stood up.

Raesh and Mannat followed him.

“See you around, friend.”

“Yes, you will,” Raesh replied solemnly. They shook hands, and all three left the room. Kuber left the room to meet another blacksmith. The servant rolled the barrel out of the room and asked the two to follow him. They went to the storage room deep into the guild's heart, past marbled floor and torch-lit passages.