Stella hummed as she pressed the edge of her sword against the grindstone. A pedal on the ground made the stone spin, so all she needed to do was to push the blade against it gently. The sword was made of steel, and she was careful with the spinning stone. Sparks danced as they made contact, some of which even landed on her arms. Though after nearly a year spent in the forge, she didn’t mind the tingling burns it created. Although, it was probably her class and levels that helped her deal with the heat.

“Stop humming, Steel!” The shout made her jump in her seat and nearly caused her to drop the sword. She persisted though and turned to glare at the boy behind her. He was taller than her by a hand and was bigger too. Like most blacksmiths, he had thick arms and muscles that would rival any of the dwarfs. With that being said, he was human. He had pale white skin and short scraggly blond hair. His eyes were sapphires with how blue they were.

“I told you, it’s Stella. And now I definitely won’t stop.” She stuck her tongue out at him. She hated being called Steel, even if that was her assigned name. The boy was only using it to be cruel, and she could do it. “Or do you want me to call you Copper?” The name bothered him just as much as it did her, so he went by Connor now. Their real names were nothing more than a designation. Thinking about it, she turned her head slightly to hide the tattoo under her ear that revealed her number.

“Okay, I’m sorry. But you’ll get us in trouble if you keep doing that. It’s almost time for inspection.” The boy glanced toward the only exit of the room. That news made Stella’s face go pale. No, that couldn’t be right. She still hadn’t finished her quota. She stared at the pile of five swords in a bucket at the end of her grey stone table.

“Stella, are you okay?” Conner looked concerned as he looked at her sword. Then he followed her gaze and saw the half-empty bucket. “No, Stella, they won’t let you go again.” His words were filled with regret and pain, and she matched them with her face.

She could feel some tears building at the edges of her vision. Her heartbeat grew louder, and she could practically hear it. “Can you…” She was about to ask Connor for some of his but knew that wouldn’t be a good idea. If she took his swords, then he would wind up taking the punishment. He had already done that once for her, and she couldn’t ask him again. Not knowing what it would mean.

Conner noticed her distress. “Take mine, I’ll figure something out.” He spoke softly, and she could barely hear him over the thumps of her heart. Even still, she couldn’t help but feel grateful. There was no one nicer than Connor, and it was times like this that proved it to her. The fact that he was willing to help her at all made her feel a little better. For some reason the thought made her stomach feel warm.

“No, I can’t! Not again…” She tried to sound strong and confident, but her voice cracked, and it came out sounding weak. He tried to push her, but she kept refusing. This was her mistake, and she didn’t want him to suffer for her. But maybe someone else could help.

She glanced around looking toward the other six people in the room. They were in a type of forge, and their room contained six stations for people to work. Each had a kid about her age in it, and every station had all the equipment needed to make a sword, shield, or whatever they were assigned to. They weren’t really her friends, and she couldn’t ask them to help her. None of the other boys or girls would meet her eyes either. They knew what was coming.

This wasn’t the first time she had missed quota. The first time had earned her cleaning duty and a missing meal. That was the only warning she had. Connor had saved her once and had earned the same punishment already. Next would be worse, next would be a lashing. “What do I do?” She mumbled the words glancing toward Connor who had no words. He just kept glancing toward the empty doorway. Her head fell to her sword.

She had finished it, and it was probably the best sword she had ever made. She had gotten too focused and lost track of time working on it. Now, she would be facing the consequences of it. She could see her reflection in the blade. Dark green eyes and tawny brown skin stained with soot met her. And she wilted looking at her reflection. Her skin was not clean, and her dark green hair was similarly dirty, though it was hard to tell as it was mostly hidden beneath a small black felt cap.

She flexed her hands, the muscles and veins becoming pronounced as she did so. Stella wasn’t the bulkiest girl here, but years of blacksmithing helped her build muscles, and now her arms could compete with some of the newer boys. Sweat ran down the side of her head and dripped onto the sword. She swiped it away quickly.

What could she do? With how fast she was leveling, she felt like she should be able to do something. Closing her eyes, she focused on herself for a second. Words flooded her mind, an image seemed to write itself in her eyes.

Name: Steel 1234

Class: Blacksmith Apprentice

Level: 19

Stamina: 23 / 140

Mana: 2 / 100

Fortitude: 10

Endurance: 14

Strength: 12

Agility: 10

Intelligence: 10

Wisdom: 10

Spirit: 12

Free Stats: 9

Skills: Sharpen

Sharpen [Mana Cost: 50]: Improve the sharpness of a crafted weapon.

She took in the information eagerly, but there was no solution there. Her eyes snapped open as she heard it. The click of the door handle being pressed in. Her head shot toward the entrance. They were in a bland stone room, with no windows and a single light at the center of the room. The furnaces gave off more light than they did. Her heartbeat was practically banging against her head now. And her body froze as a man walked into the room.

Kortek was a large man with a belly that had become round from drink. Despite that, he had thick arms and large hands befitting any blacksmith. He wasn’t dressed like one though, instead, he wore a lavish blue suit. His jacket had these weird sharp tails that ran all the way down to his knees. This man might’ve been her father with how similar they were. His skin was the same tawny brown as hers, but he had black eyes whereas hers were dark green. Their shared resemblance wouldn’t help her though. Kortek was a harsh forge master, and he was always eager to use his hands. He alone would’ve scared her. But he wasn’t alone, and that fact terrified her. Whenever Kortek had any form of company, he was always way harsher and stricter about the rules.

Why did this have to happen today? If it was just Kortek she might’ve been able to get away with just a beating. With this other man here, she would definitely get lashed, or maybe even killed. Just the thought of it made her vision blur, and she struggled to hold back her tears. Her hands tightened around the bottom hem of her shirt. The cheap dry cloth soaked up the sweat on her palms as she looked at the new man.

He was tall, basically twice as tall as she was. Not to mention that he was wide too. Not fat, but not skinny either. He had an enormous belly that protruded from his body and pushed the limits of his shirt, but it wasn’t flabby like a pig. Well, like what she thought a pig would be like, she had never actually seen one herself. He wore a fancy grey shirt with embroidered silver buttons done the middle. The buttons looked ready to pop off at the slightest touch, and she couldn’t help but wonder how much someone had to eat to get a gut like that. Her own skinny frame made for a comical comparison. The man was more than just fat though. His arms stretched his shirt just as much as his belly, and the veins on his hands were easily visible.

She watched the two men carefully as they examined bucket after bucket. At one basket the large man took one sword from the bucket. He ran his palm along the edge, and it left little more than an impression on the man’s hand. It didn’t manage to draw a single drop of blood. The man closed his fist around the middle of the sword. She sucked in a breath as a cracking noise filled the mostly quiet room. Bits and pieces of the sword fell from his hand, as he slowly loosened his grip.

“Send him to sector twelve.” The man spoke as the pieces of metal bounced against the ground. His voice was deep, but weirdly smooth as if he were some kind of prince. His face was impassive, and he used his hand to brush back his slick black hair. The words made a few people in the room fidget.

Stella wasn’t among them. Her feet felt glued to the ground and her hands might as well be bound to her shirt. The next person was Connor, and she felt her body tense. Please be okay. She silently prayed for him to succeed. Sending someone to sector twelve was essentially a death sentence. It was holding pens, where people were forced to level or die. Anyone sent there either got a class or skill advancement or starved. Beside her, she could hear the shuffling of Connor’s feet, and she prayed even harder.

When the man stepped past his bucket, she nearly collapsed from the wave of relief that hit her. That feeling lasted all of a blink, as Kortek’s loud voice filled the small room. “What is this!”

It wasn’t spoken as a question, and she knew better than to say anything. She kept her eyes glued to the ground and just stood there. It wasn’t about defiance or anything crazy. She just couldn’t force herself to do more than tremble. Her body shook as she heard footsteps approaching her. Closing her eyes tightly, she tensed, expecting to be hit.

A voice that definitely didn’t belong to Kortek said something, but Stella couldn’t really make out what was said. Her heartbeat filled her ears like a drum, and the voice was quiet in comparison. When she felt something touch the top of her head, she let out a tiny gasp. The feeling of smooth skin against her forehead made her shiver.

“Look at me!” The words were not quiet this time and managed to beat the thumps of her heart. Her eyes snapped open as her head was pulled back. She felt pressure against the side of her head, but she didn’t so much as try to squirm.

The nameless man was looking straight into her eyes. His eyes were weirdly red like fancy rubies, but she couldn’t help but see them more like blood. Her heart felt like it wanted to leave her body when he moved his arm. The man’s hand was so large that it eclipsed her scalp as he grabbed her. She could feel his fingers running across her head, and he crushed her cap as if it weren’t even there. A part of her mind wished the man would squeeze, knew that if he did then this all would be over. He could pop her head like a bubble.

He didn’t crush her skull though. Instead, he returned to his oddly smooth tone and spoke gently. Although, he turned her head to see the number beneath her ear. “Tell me 1234, why do you only have six swords here?”

The man didn’t sound angry, but she still couldn’t find the courage to speak. Although, she did try. It just resulted in her opening and closing her mouth a few times without any words coming out.

“S-sir! She can’t s-speak well. She has a s-skill for making stuff. It-t makes her go slow.” Connor's voice was like that of an angel, even if everything he said was a lie. She couldn’t imagine anyone sticking up for her. And it might work. She hadn’t ever spoken to this man or Kortek before. The other boys and girls in the room knew that she could speak, but nobody would speak out here. The fact that Connor did say something made her stomach feel oddly warm.

Her eyes slid to the side, and she could just barely see Connor from the edge of her vision. He wasn’t smiling and his face was pale. She had to do something too, otherwise, he would be alone again. She tried to nod, hoping that this man would notice. Sadly, her head didn’t budge. The man didn’t even seem to notice her attempt. His hand was as immovable as the ground.

The man glanced toward Connor, and then back at her before speaking. “Is that so? Well, let's see how good this skill really is.” His voice was still smooth, but she detected something else in it now. It wasn’t something like curiosity, no it was far more sinister than that. She couldn’t help but feel like she was speaking to a lightly restrained beast. And he seemed like he wanted to explode.

Finally, releasing the grip on her head, the man reached for one of her swords. He grabbed the one that she had just finished. The metal still gleamed a little from the sharpening. The clean edge seemed to surprise the man as his eyes widened at the sight of it. Then as he had done with the boy’s sword from before, he slowly slid his palm against the edge. She sucked in a breath and held it.

At first, the blade seemed to do nothing. Then a thin red line revealed itself, as a drop of blood trickled down his hand. The room was silent as the man rose and for once his smile seemed genuine.

“Now this is a passable sword. For that, I think you deserve something other than a lashing.” The man rubbed his chin. Stella nearly collapsed to her knees in relief at the news. The only reason she didn’t was because of the malicious look in the man’s eyes. It wasn’t the look of a nice person, and she knew better than to expect good things to come from a voice like his.

He confirmed her suspicions quickly. “I think we will triple your quota. Oh, but you’ll need more time in order to do that. Don’t worry, I have a solution. You will no longer have any breaks and will only be offered a meal once you meet your quota.” Stella’s face paled as the words struck her. He had said it so casually, but that was a death sentence. There was no way she could make that many swords in a day.

The man wasn’t finished speaking just yet. “Kortek! Make sure she does her job. As for the boy, give him twenty lashing for speaking out of turn.” With those words, he dropped the sword in the basket and walked out of the room with his arms held behind his back.

Her gaze dropped back to the floor. She couldn’t look toward Connor. The room was quiet; all she could hear was her heart. It didn’t pound with fear, but it hurt as she thought of Connor. “You are all dismissed!” Kortek’s loud voice broke the trance, and she turned up to see Connor following the man.

Conner met her eyes, and he smiled. It was crooked and forced, but that smile finally made her weep. Tears ran down her cheeks as Kortek and Connor left the room. This was all her fault. That knowledge made her head fall forward as she rubbed her eyes desperately. She couldn’t stop crying, and her tears trailed her as she ran from the room unable to look at anyone else.

She ran out of the room, dashing through the familiar stone hallways toward her room. This was a passage she could travel with her eyes closed, and that was exactly what she was doing. The grey stone beneath her feet wasn’t even smooth. Jagged edges pressed into the bottoms of her oversized brown boots.

It took her a few minutes to get near the end of the hall. There was no door or anything separating her room from the hall. In fact, her room, like all the others, was little more than an indent in the wall. It was so small that the only thing in the room was a pile of tattered pillows and blankets, otherwise known as her bed. It covered the room’s floor, and she had to duck to get into the sheets. The room’s ceiling was a couple of inches shorter than she was. Above her room was another nearly identical space, and she noticed a pair of feet sticking out from a blanket there. She ignored them, and crawled into her bed, resting her head against her best pillow. It actually still had most of its feathers.

“What no hello?” The voice came from the person who had been lying in the room above hers. Stella didn’t lift her head and pulled up one of her blankets over her head instead. That turned out to be a mistake since the blanket wasn’t big enough to cover her head and feet at the same time.

Something brushed against her feet, tickling her and nearly making her sit up. There was barely enough space for her to sit up in her little cubby, so she just turned her head and glared at the girl behind her. Nike hung down from her bed, her red hair falling like a curtain to block out the rest of the hallway. She was smiling, though Stella noticed a red bruise on the side of her head. That was fresh.

“Don’t look at me like that, and tell me what’s wrong with you?” Concern filled Nike’s voice, but Stella only dug her head deeper into her pillow. Nike and Connor were her only friends, and she didn’t want to tell her about what happened. What if Nike hated her because of it? Stella couldn’t say anything.

The sound of movement behind her startled her. Then Stella felt someone grab her legs and push them to the side. Before she could even react and get angry, Nike crawled into the bed beside her. There really wasn’t that much space, so Stella was forced to share the pillow and turn to face the other girl.

Nike was smiling. “You know that you can’t hide things from me, right? Might as well spill.” She spoke softly, whispering the words in the tight space.

Stella squirmed under the protective and worried gaze of her friend. Eventually, that look made her speak, and she told Nike about what happened. Nike didn’t get angry, instead, she pulled her into a hug, and gently pushed the cap off her head to rub her hair.

“It’s okay. Connor’s strong, and so are you. Come on, you know better than to cry here.” Despite the words, Stella cried even harder. Stella felt like a kid beside Nike, though the other girl was only two years older than her. Connor was the oldest at a whopping sixteen.

They stayed like that for a few moments before Stella started to feel embarrassed. She tried to push the other girl away, but the room wasn’t big enough to do more than separate their heads.

“Wait, aren’t you about to advance?” Nike spoke as seemed to remember that idea, and her words made Stella remember her too.

“Yeah, I am… I forgot.” Stella spoke with uncertainty, but she could tell that she had reached level 20. It had happened back when her sword had cut the man’s palm. The rush to gain a level was something that was hard to miss, and yet she had.

“That’s great! Go ahead and do it. Trust me it will make you feel better.” Nike was all smiles now that she had found something that could distract Stella.

Nike was the highest level among the people in this sector. And had advanced once already. Stella’s leveling speed was considered ridiculous, and she knew to keep that fact secret. Only Nike and Connor knew what level she was at. And she knew their levels too. Nike was a level 22 Hexweave Seamstress, and Connor was a level 17 Apprentice Blacksmith. He, as it turned out, wasn’t a very good blacksmith, and it showed in his leveling.

Stella nodded to Nike’s request and shut her eyes. Then she shifted her focus inward, narrowing her thoughts down around her class. An instant later, she opened her eyes and was momentarily blinded by the light of three distinct pillars of raw power.

The closest shone with a bright red light, that felt hot. Just looking at it made her body feel warm. She slowly stretched her hand to it. Words filled her mind as her hand drew ever closer to the warm power.

Mountainforge Blacksmith: Having dedicated yourself to smithing within a mountain, you better learn how to utilize the warmth of the colossal stone. The mountains call to you, inspiring your creations, and providing them with the strength of giants. To forge is to be strong.

Teaches you the forging method of Giants.

The class sounded nice, but she didn’t want it. She didn’t want to live in the mountain, and this class made it sound like there was never a way out for her. Although, being able to forge things like giants sounded really cool. No! She shook her head. No matter how cool the class was, she couldn’t pick something that would trap her here. Nor had she ever chosen to dedicate herself to any mountain. She was born a slave and never had the opportunity to choose anything. This was something she could choose, and she wouldn’t choose this class. Even if it was something she had never heard of before.

She drifted away from the red pillar, moving toward the next eagerly. This pillar was a mix of black and silver strands of light that wove together and moved like the strings of an instrument. As she got closer to this one, she could feel her body begin to vibrate. The information jammed into her head more roughly this time.

Starter Stonesmith: Having worked within the confines of stone, you have become attuned to the rock around you. Become as resilient as a stone and withstand even the hottest forges. You have a greater understanding of the hammer more than most others, and your strikes will become far more effective. To smith is to be hard.

Teaches you methods to forge stone.

This was the class that the slave masters would want her to take. Most slaves ended up with a class like this, and she had seen several older smiths work with stone before. This class made a lot of sense, and it might be enough to hit her new quota, but she doubted it. From what she heard; these smiths were slow even if what they made was decent. More than that, she just didn’t want to become something that this place made her to be. She turned away from the class, feeling a little worried now.

There was only one option left, and if this wasn’t good, she would be stuck with one of these.