A world in which space wasn’t an issue—that’s what this place was for the awakened. Back on Earth Dallion took for granted he had all the knowledge of humanity. All that seemed like a child’s toy here. The library that Captain Adzorg had given him was in fact a very real library, full with more tomes and scrolls than Dallion could count. Knowledge that he couldn’t imagine was held in the awakening realm of a simple ring. Of course, there was a catch. The librarian echo that oversaw the library, could only grant access to any of pieces of knowledge, and for the moment it had only allowed Dallion to read a single scroll.

“Miser,” Dallion grumbled. One scroll was more than plenty for him right now, but knowing that there was so much more denied from him, soured the experience.

Adding insult to injury, the scroll he was allowed to read was dry and boring as a history lecture. If Dallion was expecting he’d learn anything more about his awakened powers in order to “fill the gaps in his training” he was mistaken. Instead, he now knew the names of the seven moons, which attributes they were linked to, the order by which they appeared in the sky, and the time they remained visible according to month.

After an hour spent rereading the same paragraph, Dallion decided he needed a break.

“Going so early?” Adzorg’s echo—which Dallion had gotten to call Nil—asked.

“Afraid so, Nil. There’ve a lot of things I need to do.”

“Such as?” Nil crossed his arms.

“I have to mend the furniture in the tavern after last night. Also, the counter.” A few of the patrons had become decently drunk and overly enthusiastic, smashing mugs on the counter at the early hours of the day. Hannah had quickly kicked them out, though not before they had made several deep scars on the side of the counter. “Oh, and I have to go buy some proper clothes. Hannah’s orders.”

The echo gave Dallion a look reserved for school delinquents, then just shrugged. A second later, Dallion was back in his comfortable bed. The sun was already rising, leaking rays of light through the shutters of the room.

Given how strict the innkeeper was, the boy allowed himself a few more minutes of leisure, before washing up and getting dressed.

The first thing he did in the morning was to rush to the toilet. The second—to wash his hands and return to the main room. Despite last night’s ruckus, the damages were less than he expected. Taking a deep breath, Dallion went on to do his job. A minute later, everything that could be mended was as good as new. Several glasses and a few of the chairs would have to be replaced, though. There was only so much that awakened powers could do.

“You’re diligent,” Hanna said, startling Dallion into a hop.

Having relied on his superior hearing, he had gotten out of the habit of looking around for people.

“Easy there, it’s just me with your breakfast,” the woman said, more amused than anything. “Leftovers from last night, with the cook’s compliments.”

“It’ll be fine.” Dallion forced a smile, his heart racing in his chest. “You’ll need to replace a few chairs.” He added after a while.

“Much less now that you’re here.” Hannah snorted. “Eat your food.”

The eating went in silence. Both of them sat less than a step apart on both sides of the counter, and neither had anything to say. Only when Dallion had gulped down the last bite, did the woman slam a coin pouch in front of him.

“Here. That’s for some decent clothes, and what other small necessities you need.”

“Thanks.” Dallion picked up the pouch. It was pleasantly heavy. “I’ll be sure to pay you back.”

“Idiot.” The woman smiled. It was her first unadulterated smile Dallion had seen on her face. “Those are your earnings. Mending doesn’t come free. I’d never let people carve up my mugs and tables on a normal night. Why should this be different?”

“You mean everyone yesterday paid to see me mend things?”

“That’s the short of it. There might be plenty of you in the city, but you still are a big deal. Not all work at inns, most only do it because they have no choice and it shows.”

So, a little showmanship went a long way.

“Don’t expect this every night! Now, that they know your tricks, they’ll probably return to behaving properly. My advice, make use of this as fast as you can. Dress up, train up, create a good impression at your guild, then you can start saving for a place of your own.”

Dallion wasn’t certain whether she was encouraging him, or suggesting she wanted him out. Either way, he nodded.

“I’ll be sure to put these to good use.” He tied the pouch to his belt. It felt horribly insecure, but there wasn’t much he could do. “Where’s Jiroh?”

“Out.” Hannah narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“I was hoping she’d show me about the city. You know, take me to some good places to buy clothes from, that sort of thing.”

“She’ll be away for a few days.” There was a trace of doubt in the innkeeper’s voice. “And the faster you start handling things on your own, the better. Don’t rely that we’ll carry you forever.”

It’s literally been one day! “Sure thing.” Dallion smiled and quickly made his way to the exit. “See you at noon.”

The air outside was incredibly sweet. After some wandering about aimlessly, Dallion found that the yellow flower bushes that he’d seen about the city, were the source of the sweet fragrance. To an awakened it was like walking through the perfume aisle of a mall. Whoever was in charge of city planning had done a pretty good job. Soon it became apparent that there were other conveniences for awakened—small subtle things that wouldn’t be the everyday person.

“Hey, you there!” a voice carried from the next block. Dallion looked in the direction to see a plumb middle-aged man wave at him.

Looking at him, there was nothing remarkable about the man. He was almost invisible in the crowd among the other denizens. The leather apron he was wearing suggested that one might be a blacksmith, or at least working with one.

Feeling a mild sense of curiosity, Dallion approached.

“Yes?” he asked.

“New in town?” the other whispered.

“Sort of.” Dallion already regretted approaching. Of all the things he had stumbled on a salesperson of some sort.

“Come in here,” the man grabbed him by the hand.

“Look, I really—”

“It’ll be worth it.” The man whispered. Judging by his voice, he wasn’t lying.

Dallion let himself be dragged down a small alley, and into what seemed to be a weapon’s shop. A few moments later, Dallion saw it was much more. All the weapons on display were flawless, and several were made from sky silver.

The man hurriedly shoved Dallion inside, then closed and barred the door.

“That was really stupid,” the man said, letting a sigh of relief. “Good thing it’s morning. If you’d been out in the evening, the city guard would be crawling all over the place.”

“Look, whatever you’re selling, I really don’t—”

“Your pouch.” The pan pointed. “Next time, tightened it better, or at least put some cloth inside. You could hear the coins rattle throughout half the city.”

Dallion blinked.

“You’re an awakened?” he asked.

“I’d have thought that was obvious.”

“But your clothes.” Dallion winced. Remembering how uncomfortable his clothes were back at Dherma before he’d improved them made him itch even now. “They’re…” They’re like crap, he wanted to add.

“Never was one for flashing things. Besides, after a while you stop feeling the itch. Oh, name’s Taem, by the way.”

“Dallion…”

“You’re still confused, aren’t you? Right, let me explain things for you. Nerosal, like any big city, comes with its level of crime. For the most part, we’re safe. Only a fool would dare do major damage in the Countess’ second most favorite city. However, there’s a plague even this place can’t escape—petty things and pickpockets.”

Instinct made Dallion grab his pouch.

“Good reflexes, but maybe next time do that before you hit the street?”

Of course, there would be pickpockets. Just because there wasn’t crime in Dherma village didn’t mean there wouldn’t be any here. Dallion had naively taken it for granted that he’d be untouchable. If the thieves were ordinary people, he might be right, but with so many awakened it was inevitable that some of them resorted to crime as well.

“Sorry, no one warned me…”

“Don’t expect people to warn you about everything. You were lucky this time. Next time, who knows.”

“Why did you help me?”

“Why not? If you get mugged, the city guard will start snooping around, and when they do, weapon shops are the first to get closed. Last time some newbie got robbed here, I had to wait half a week before the city captain let me reopen.”

“Makes sense. So, what weapons do you have?”

Dallion forgot all about his clothes. Or rather, they no longer seemed such a priority. He could always get clothes later. Now that he was here, he might as well invest in a bit more firepower, so to speak.

“See something you fancy?” Taem flashed a confident smile. “All of these were made by yours truly. Most are out of your range, but I’m sure there’ll be something you could use. How much coin do you have?”

That was a good question. Impressed by the weight of the pouch, Dallion hadn’t even opened it. To his relief it turned out that a large part of the coins were silvers. The weapon smith took a passing glance, then went to a section of the wall that held daggers and took a few pairs. Dallion looked at him for a few moments, but his eyes quickly strayed away, attracted by the more massive articles.

The entire broadsword section was something that he had only seen on fantasy art forums. Having one of those would have provided him with quite the advantage when fighting against the awakening shrine guardians. Not as good as the dartbow, though… And thinking about the dartbow, there were several massive double crossbows in the shop as well, placed in their own separate shelf. Each was the size of a small desk, with two bows arranged in the form of the letter X. Four bolts were placed in between, all of them four times longer than any Dallion had held.

“What’s that for?” Dallion pointed. “Mountains?”

“The crossbows?” Taem glanced over his shoulder. “Castles mostly. They were from before the war. Not much demand lately. Too slow to be used against abominations.”

“They look just like dartbows.”

The weapon smith laughed. “If you’re oversimplifying it, why not just say they look like a bow? I wouldn’t recommend buying one. It takes years learning how to master a crossbow. People are better off buying two modified dartbows.” Taem placed five sets of daggers on a small wooden table in the end of the room. “Here we go. Good for throwing and close combat. What sort of weapons have you used so far?”

“A short sword.” Dallion said. After all that talk about dartbows he didn’t feel the desire to admit he had one.

“And?” The weapon smith asked, waiting patiently.

“And… a short sword.” Dallion felt his forehead burn up. “Truth is, I haven’t used any weapon so far.”

“Never been in a real fight?” Tael asked with understanding.

“Never been in a real fight,” Dallion lied. Or at least told a semi lie. “To be honest, I don’t know much about awakened weapons.” Which I would have if the stupid echo had let me read any useful books! “What’s the difference between this and the sword I start with?”

“For one thing, the sword you start with is made of air.”

Dallion stared at him blankly.

“I see I’ll have to explain things a bit,” the blacksmith sighed. “You know the difference between an awakening fight and a real one, right? In the awakened realm you get all those useful hints and markers, telling you what to do and when to do it. Perfect to learn something, but otherwise useless. If I hit you now, you won’t see any warning markers, you’ll have to rely on your own reflexes and experience. It’s the same with weapons and armor. Unless they are material—” he tapped the blade of a dagger with his finger “—they don’t exist.”

“Hmm.” Dallion nodded.

“Now, here’s the tricky part. You can’t take weapons you have in an awakened realm. That is, unless they are made out of one of seven special metals.”

“Sky silver,” Dallion quickly said.

“That’s one example. Cheap and abundant. Using it, I can forge a shape that will be transferred in the awakened realm, so you can use it in both places.”

“I see.” So, all those weapons Dallion had seen in Aspion’s awakening room had been weapons he’d owned at some point. Interesting what had happened to them.

“The only downside is that weapons made of these metals are almost impossible to improve. It’s far easier to save up enough money and just buy something better. Same goes for mending. While the weapon will always be in perfect shape in the awakened realm, fixing it out here would require the services of someone like me. Otherwise, you might as well be hitting people on the head with a metal stick.”

“Got it.” Dallion looked at the sets of daggers. None of them looked bad, but there was nothing special about them. Dallion didn’t see them giving him an edge in battle. With luck, he might get Captain Adzorg off his back for a day or two, but was that a good enough reason to waste money or something he was unlikely to use? “What about swords?”

“You don’t have the strength or the reflexes to handle a longer blade.” Taem shook his head. “Trust me on that. Maybe in a month or two… You can buy a sword if you want to. I’m not stopping you, but take it from me, you’re not ready yet.”

“Thanks, but I’ll take a look all the same.”

The weapon smith shrugged with an unspoken “it’s your money.” Then stepped back as Dallion started looking around.

This is so cool, the child in Dallion thought. He felt as if he were five years old and in a candy store. There were so many weapons he had never seen, some of which he couldn’t even make out how to hold. There were short blades, long blades, double blades, clubs, hatchets, ranged weapons, as well as a huge variety of knives.

Each weapon Dallion passed by, created mental images of him wielding it. In his imagination Dallion was always cool, handling the weapon flawlessly. However, he knew full well that it was only wishful thinking. Upon reaching one weapon, however, the vision changed—it felt far more familiar, almost real.

“What’s this?” Dallion pointed at one of the exotic swords.

It was twice longer than the short sword he was used to, with a wide place that appeared to be more frame than blade. Nine silver strings stretched between the tip of the sword and the hilt, like the neck of a guitar.

“A harpsisword,” Tael replied. ”I just keep it here for show. It came with the shop. Great for parties, useless for anything else. It takes a very specific set of skills and a lot of persistence to use that.”

“How much for it?”

“Kid, if you really want a sword, I’ll give you something else on a discount. Buying that is like giving your money to the pickpockets.”

“Does it matter? It’s my money.”

“If you put it that way…” the weapon smith glanced at Dallion’s money pouch. “All the coins you have. Are you sure you still want it?”

Dallion untied the pouch from his belt and tossed it to the man. Yes, he very much wanted that sword. He knew perfectly well it would take him months to learn how to use it, but it didn’t matter. He had the time. What was more, the sword was calling out to him, resonating for the first time with the skill his mother had given him.