She was wearing a long cloak which covered herself, though her white hair could be seen peeking through. She had pale skin and white hair. If her eyes had been silver, she would have been the spitting image of Mister White, though he couldn’t quite see them. She was sitting on a blanket and had various items on display, from broken weapons to pristine cups.

Jack walked to the young woman and knelt down to look at the items. He scanned them all carefully, his eyes coming across the dice first. There was a set of them, four in total, each with six sides. He almost reached for them, but then his eyes feel to the broken sword.

The hilt war pristine, but there was only a finger's length of blade before it turned into a jagged edge. Yet it seemed as though the sword was looking at him, staring into his soul.

"How much is the sword?" Jack asked.

"You should pick another item, boy. You don't have the skill to repair it or to use it. If you want something, buy the dice set."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "I might not look like it, but I'll be a great smith one day!" Jack puffed up his chest. He couldn't believe how rude the girl was. How could she say such a thing, and why would she display an item for sale which she wouldn’t sell?

"If you're going to be a great smith then I'll sell it to you, but why do you want the sword? It's broken."

"I don't know. I just feel like I should buy it. Why are you trying to sell a broken sword?"

The woman smiled. "Does it call to you?"

"Yes."

"Then you can have it for one gold coin." The woman smiled politely, keeping her gaze on the floor.

“I want to buy it,” Jack said to Mark. His eyes were shining expectantly, and though Mark didn’t want to buy it, how could he say no when the young man had finally taken the initiative to request something.

As Mark handed over the coin, he squat down and glared at the woman, about to warn her. It was then he noticed the colour of her eyes and her general appearance, and he thought much better of it. She reminded him of Mister White, and just the memory of the man caused him to shudder.

“Thank you,” the young woman said.

Jack picked up the sword and looked at it. There was something about it, but he couldn’t quite tell what he was feeling.

“I should be leaving,” the woman said, swiftly hoisting the blanket and then tying it up to her staff before she slung it over her shoulder.

“Excuse me, miss. What is your name?” Jack asked politely, wondering if she’d be willing to talk about the sword.

The woman waved her hand over her shoulder, dismissing his words. “You don’t need to worry about my name for now. If Mistress Fate allows it, we’ll meet again.”

Jack looked to her back as she walked away. She was half stumbling, as though she was drunk, but he was sure she wasn’t drunk.

She was drunk, but not on alcohol. She smiled to herself, wondering how good her fortune was. She had managed to find someone for that sword, and the curse which had taken over her would soon dissipate. Perhaps she’d finally be able to return home this century!

‘Young man, I hope we meet again.’

Mark looked at the woman, wondering if he should confront her. Then he noticed Jack staring at the sword intently. He had never seen the boy with such focus, but then recalled that he had done so. He smiled to himself. One gold coin to see the boy concentrate on something was worth the price. She had managed to spark that joy within him, and so he let her be, not realising that he had managed to bypass a calamity.

“If you stare at the sword for longer, we’ll be late to meet with the smith.” Mark pat the boy’s back to get him out of his stupor.

Jack nodded and then led Mark to the smithy, wondering if he could ask the smith for help with identifying the sword. He was sure he was missing something, but he wasn’t a good enough smith to ascertain what it was.

During that time, Anthony had finished with his business at the merchants’ guild and had made his way to the smith. The smith had made him some tea, and as the knight slowly sipped on it, he spoke with the smith.

“Half of his income should be sent right to the merchants’ guild,” Anthony said. “When he makes an item and you sell it, make sure to pay him appropriately. Make an excuse to pay him half, but be sure to deposit the other half into the merchants’ guild.”

“That is no issue,” Terry said. “However, what if I was to auction an item he made?”

“If you auction something, do the same. Having too much money will make him a target, and this way he will always have some money if he was to be robbed.”

“Who would rob a Bloodwall?” Terry asked.

Anthony smiled. “There was a minor issue on the road. Keep your end of the bargain and we won’t have an issue.”

“I’m a smith,” Terry replied. “My word needs to be as solid as my smithing, otherwise no one will trust me.”

“Once he’s earned enough, be sure to hand him a spatial ring or a dimensional pouch.”

“How many years are you planning for him to work under me?” Terry asked. “Becoming a decent smith takes a few years, but I’m not sure he’ll earn enough to pay for such items so easily.”

“Don’t underestimate the little sir,” Anthony said, smiling. He sipped on the tea and then sighed. “You shouldn’t underestimate the household of the Bloodwalls either.”

Terry understood the threat and nodded. “If he earns enough, I’ll be sure to give him one. He’ll borrow one throughout his apprenticeship anyway, so if he manages to become a smith, I’ll gift it to him. Will that work for you?”

“That’s fine.” Anthony placed down the cup of tea and then bowed his head. “I’ll leave the little sir in your hands then.”

“Yeah, sure. I hope you won’t intervene any longer in the matters of my business.”

“I will merely suggesting some advice,” the knight said, smiling politely. “Now, do you have a good drink?”

Terry narrowed his eyes and sighed. He left the man in the forge, trusting that he won’t steal anything, before returning with a bottle of silent forest wine. “Here,” he said. “I wasn’t much a drinker, but I did receive this as a gift some years ago.”

“Silent forest wine,” Anthony said with a large smile. “You’ve got some expensive taste.” The knight placed down a gem coin and then snatched the bottle. “I’ll be sure to share this with the young master, so if it ends up being poisoned…”

“All alcohol is poison.”

Anthony smirked. “And isn’t it the best kind of poison?” He laughed and waved, leaving the smith. He noted Jack was nearby, so disappeared into an alley. He caught the sight of the young man with Mark, who caught the knight’s gaze and the pair nodded to one another.

Anthony retreated through the alleys, leaving Mark to assist the young master for the day. If he didn’t, Mark would complain on the way back, and he didn’t want to have his ears fall off.

It was then he drew his blade and swung wildly behind him as a figure appeared. “Who dares to chase me?” Anthony said, though his face quickly dropped and his body filled with alarm, his heart pounding wildly.

“Excuse me, Sir Anthony,” the figure said, smiling warmly towards the knight. “I seem to dare.” The figure had pale skin, white hair, and silver eyes. He was beautiful in an otherworldly kind of way.

Anthony quickly withdrew his blade and straightened up. Though Mister White was not a knight, everyone knew that the man outranked almost everyone else. “Mister White,” the knight said, “I didn’t expect to see you.” Anthony paused to think for a moment, realising how stupid it was to say that. Jack had almost been kidnapped and he had sent word back. Who else but Mister White would appear?

“Would you mind if we talked in the shadows for a short time? I’ll leave you to your drink after.” Mister White smiled politely, but even Anthony could see the danger as plain as the sun.

“It’s no problem at all.” Anthony couldn’t resist the man even if he wanted to. He spoke with Mister White, who listened intently. Once he was done with his report, Mister White asked a few questions.

“Thank you for your assistance, Sir Anthony.” Mister White smiled again, which unnerved the knight.

“It’s only right that I should assist you in any way that I can,” Anthony replied, bowing his head.

“Then I will leave little Jack in your care.” Mister White disappeared in the next blink, as though he never existed. If it weren’t for the dread deep within the knight’s body, he wouldn’t have thought he had met with the terrifying entity.

Even Anthony had no idea how strong the man was. From what he guessed, the man was even stronger than Chief Bloodwall. He had no idea how the Chief had managed to find Mister White, and he didn’t even know if Mister White was his realm name. All he knew was that with Mister White, very few would make a move on the Chief.

Anthony sighed and then looked down at the bottle. “I need a drink,” he whispered.