“So you trust the Smith?” Sir Bartholomew asked once they had left Riverhill, leaving the city behind them as they travelled through the hills.

“I don’t trust the Smith, but I trust in his Oath.” Sir Ozcar was leading them, covering many metres with each leap.

“He was that desperate?” Sir Anya asked, laughing to herself, her voice being carried away into the night behind them.

“He was, but that wasn’t the only thing…” Sir Ozcar sighed, thinking about what he had learnt about Jack. “It seems our little Jack is growing up too quickly.”

“He’s already killed a man?” Anya asked, surprised. She didn’t expect Jack to be so bold. He had been such a sweet little thing, and hearing that he had killed a man was heart wrenching. She frowned at the thought.

“No,” Ozcar said, figuring out clearly what she was thinking. “He’s apparently already a fine Smith, or very close to it.”

“Didn’t he just start smithing not long ago?” Anya asked.

“I recall Kanders mentioning he had some talent, but the Chief put it on hold…” Sir Bartholomew had already figured out why the Chief had delayed the boy’s training. Sir Bartholomew was the kind of Knight who stayed just outside the inner circle, instead guessing what the Chief was going to do by inferring things which were slipped from Sir Ozcar.

Anya, on the other hand, was very different. She preferred to be told the bare minimum and then to carry out the task at hand. “So how could he get so good so quick?” Anya asked.

“Apparently his talents are unmatched,” he said. “To the point that he can make a two part cobalt dagger in a single day.”

“A two part cobalt dagger?” Anya asked.

“Twenty percent cobalt?” Sir Bartholomew said, trying to confirm what the man was saying.

“You don’t mean to tell us that he made one?” Anya wasn’t sure if she could believe that. “The dagger the girl had…”

“Jack had made it, and I confirmed it when I met with him.”

Anya’s jaw dropped and Sir Bartholomew’s eyes went slightly wide. They almost tripped, but managed to keep up with the Knight as he continued leaping forward.

“Isn’t that outrageous?” Anya asked.

“So he’ll return to us soon?” Sir Bartholomew understood that would have been the worst possible outcome once the Chief had finally sent him away.

“No,” the leading Knight replied back to the two. “We had a conversation and we have made a deal.”

“You told him?” Sir Bartholomew wasn’t impressed. He had expected Sir Ozcar of all people to keep a secret, though he understood the Chief wouldn’t be too angry since it was him.

“I didn’t, but he was smart enough to figure it out.” Sir Ozcar sighed. It was an unfortunate circumstance, but the Smith seemed to be a decent enough ally. “If I hadn’t done so, then Jack would have returned within the year.”

“A year? That soon?” Sir Bartholomew couldn’t believe what he was hearing. An Apprentice would take many years to be able to gain the qualifications of a Smith, a single year was outrageous.

“No,” Ozcar said, sighing, “much sooner than that. Perhaps as quick as three months.”

“Three months?” Anya gasped. “Is our little Jack that good?”

“It appears to be the case,” Ozcar replied, shaking his head. “I don’t believe the Smith was lying. It would be awkward if Jack returned so quickly, and it seems that their business isn’t to do with the Bloodwalls.”

“Their business?” Anya asked.

Sir Ozcar exchanged a glance with Sir Bartholomew, and the pair nodded to one another. “You don’t need to know for now, but just know that with this, our two sides will remain neutral with one another.”

The three Knights felt a sour taste in their mouth. It wasn’t a stretch to say that with Sir Anthony’s death paved the way for Jack’s success.

‘So that’s the bet you made before you died,’ Sir Ozcar thought. It didn’t feel right to him that the drunkard Knight, who had been raised alongside the two boys, had died for the future of their little Jack. Sir Ozcar couldn’t think much against it though, since he would have easily taken that choice too.

Sir Anya frowned. “What did the Smith say?”

“Nothing,” Sir Ozcar replied. “It wasn’t what he said, but what he didn’t say.”

The stars overhead illuminated their path, though they could eventually see a large ravine. They dropped down, landing down with a thud to reveal their presence. They stepped forward, heading towards where the two walls would eventually meet. However, before they could step too close, several shadows emerged above them.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” whispered a voice along the wind, ominously.

The Knights removed their hoods and then revealed their sigils more clearly, and the shadows stared down at the trio. There was a long moment of silence before one of the shadows appeared, revealing a figure clad in black.

“Excuse my subordinates,” he said. “They were just making sure you were who we were expecting.”

“Where is he?” Sir Ozcar said.

The figure waved their hand and after a few moments, someone carried over a figure wrapped in cloth. The stench of death and decay had covered them. Sir Ozcar reached forward and undid the covering which hid the dead Knight’s face.

Even in he darkness, Sir Ozcar could see the serene face of his drunkard companion. He held a sad smile on his face, a small knick against his face, where he had narrowly dodged a dagger, was the only company.

Sir Ozcar narrowed his eyes but then took the body from the figure. His arms trembled lightly as he stepped away, and Sir Bartholomew and Sir Anya waited for their leader’s command.

Sir Ozcar walked away, silently. He could feel a deep sense of regret and pain flood through him, like a storm. His body continued to shake, but a few moments later he finally calmed, as though the storm had passed.

Wordlessly, he summoned out a coffin and then placed the dead body inside. He lifted the coffin over his shoulder and then walked off, leaving the bandit group behind him.

Sir Anya frowned, glancing towards the bandit leader, before turning and leaving. She let go of the hilt of her blade and followed the other two Knights. There had been a small hope in her heart that she’d be able to spill a little blood, but she supposed she shouldn’t be too greedy here. Chief Bloodwall would have a task for her from this, she was sure.

It was the same night when Smith Terry had taken both Merri and Jack aside, moments after the Knights had left. He wasn’t sure what he should say to the boy, but he needed to say something. He made himself some tea and drank it slowly, letting it warm his cold body.

His eyes fell onto Jack. “I don’t need to test you any more,” he said. “You’ve passed every test with flying colours, and I’m sure you’ll pass anything else I set you.” He sipped on his tea.

Jack smiled. “So I’m your real Apprentice now? Just like Merri?”

“Just like Merri,” Smith Terry replied, keeping his promise to the two Knights. “However, you can’t tell anyone about your abilities. If you go around telling people about how skilled you are, they will try to take advantage of you. As long as you’re with me, I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you’re safe.”

Jack looked at the Smith with a curious look, tilting his head slightly, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t worry about it. For now, pretend you’re still learning. We’ll say you’ve learnt how to smith one percent cobalt weapons and that’s all.”

“I’ve already repaired some items at the guild which were more powerful.”

Terry stopped drinking his tea and then slapped his forehead. How could he have forgotten? “Well… let’s say that you’re still training still, and you haven’t learnt the Breath of Fire, so it should be fine.” He sighed.

“What do you want me to do next?” Jack asked. “What will I be learning?”

“Right now I’m going to set you two to make some typical weapons, those between one and five percent cobalt. We also need to keep how many weapons you make a secret too. Tell them you aren’t quite as good as Merri yet, so you work at half the rate as her.”

Jack nodded, smiling wide. The fact he was truly an Apprentice now had made him giddy. “Yes!”

“Tomorrow I’ll take you to the Merchants’ Guild, and there we’ll sort out your payment. We will send half your wage right into your account, and the other half you can use as you please. Your pay won’t be that high since you’re still an Apprentice and I still need to pay for all the metal you’ll be using.”

“Right! Yes!” Jack nodded emphatically, smiling wide. Even if he wasn’t paid much he could always find work at the Mercenary Guild, so this wasn’t a problem at all.

Terry wondered what terrible ideas Jack was holding in his mind when he made such a face. “If you make any outstanding items, we’ll say that I assisted you. If we are to auction something you made, I’ll take the material cost and you can keep the rest. I’m not in the business of stealing from my Apprentices. I understand that gaining fame right now might be important to you, but I’d rather you focus on your work and training. Once I feel like you can progress safely, I’ll give you your freedom.”

Jack wasn’t sure what Terry was talking about, but he continued to nod. Merri looked to Jack, wondering why he was so happy. Even she would act up against such terms, but it seems that Jack wasn’t here for the fame of being a great Smith whilst young. It would be every child’s dream to create something so amazing that they can auction it off and make all the money. If he was able to create something outstanding, then he would receive plenty of offers for work on behalf of different Lords.

Jack just smiled. “I became a real Apprentice and got to meet Sir Ozcar, Sir Anya, and Sir Bartholomew. What a lucky day!”