The Pride of Arkaan

Erik loved smithing. He had been doing it as far back as he could remember. Weapons, clocks, jewellery, anything you could think of really. Even now his attention was completely focused on the metal before him. In an endless cadence, his muscled arm descended onto the iron. A single drop of sweat ran across his brown curly hair across his tanned face. It ran along his brown eyes until it finally reached his lips where he licked it away inattentively. Effortlessly he lifted his heavy hammer to strike the ring before him once more.

“Erik!”

Erik looked around his smithy. It was like waking from a dream. Did someone just call him? He heard the laughter of children.

“Erik! Come help already! Quickly!”

Yeah, he was definitely being called. He put his hammer down on the anvil: “I’m coming!”

He threw open the door to the smithy and walked through the corridor into their shop. His uncle Gray stood behind the counter with an anguished look on his face.

“Don’t touch that!“, he yelled in terror as a small child tried to lift a firewood axe from the wall. When Gray saw his nephew his face lit up.

“Ah Erik, finally! You’re here.” His uncle pulled him closer and asked in a hushed voice: “Erik, who are these little gits and why are they in our shop?”

“They’re the grandchildren of Maro, from three streets further. They asked me to repair their toy.”

His uncle looked bewildered at the group of children, there were at least twenty of them: “They’re all Maro’s? By Umir, that man is productive.”

His face whitened suddenly. One of the children was climbing onto a closet to better reach the axe.

“I said: hands off, you little shit!” He turned to Erik: “Erik, give them their order and get them out of here before I lose my sanity.”

Erik walked to the counter. He grabbed their toy, a mechanical horse, and walked over to the oldest of the children: “Your name was Max, right?” The boy nodded proudly. Erik showed him the horse and pressed a spring. The horse started galloping. The children all looked at him in amazement.

“He repaired Mister Bogus!”

“I told you he could do it!”

Erik was enjoying the little shrieks of admiration when Max suddenly stepped forward burying his hands deep into his pocket.

“Max, can I pay?“, a smaller boy behind him squeaked. Max ignored him. He produced a few copper pieces from his pockets: “Look, Mister Sim, we all put some coins together.”

Erik looked at the boy’s outstretched hand. Many of the coins were wooden. Erik chuckled: counterfeiters at their age. He waved dismissively: “Keep it. The repairs are a present. I’m guessing at least one of you will have his birthday soon. Just make sure you don’t break it again.”

The children’s faces lighted up at his words. They all thanked him loudly as they ran out of the shop to go on adventures with their returned toy.

Erik laughed and yelled after them: “Next time don’t bring wooden coins.”

Gray looked at the whole thing while shaking his head.

“Erik, make sure we don’t get the reputation of being a charity. By Umir, how am I ever going to leave this shop to you when you melt for every cute face that asks you something?“, his uncle gave him a pat on the back that nearly sent him sprawling on the ground, “Oh well, at least those little shrieking devils are gone.”

Erik rubbed his pained back. He wasn’t small. He even was relatively tall for his age and he liked to think that he was well in shape because of the smithy. But Gray was gigantic. A life of hauling and forging had given him an appearance that reminded you more of a bull than an actual human. He was entirely bald and his eyebrows had long been scorched away by the fires of the smithy. This gave his head an uncanny similarity to that of a seal. New customers were always either mortified or fascinated at the sight of his uncle.

“How’s the wedding band coming along?“, his uncle asked as he cleaned up the counter.

“I was just about to add the patterns. Another five hours of work, I reckon.” He knew his uncle was questioning him to see if he could give his nephew more advanced work. Lately, he had been giving Erik more and more precision work. It filled Erik with pride. Eleven years ago, when Gray adopted him, he wasn’t allowed so much as to touch a hammer. For months all he was allowed to do was keep the forge’s fire going and watch Gray work. Considering that, Erik felt he had come a long way. Gray nodded approvingly: “Alright, in that case, we close early today so you can finish up that ring. Tomorrow morning you can start with our new order. Some rich kid ordered a fancy sword”, he grabbed his purse, “I’m going to buy more firewood at Helga’s place. Can you close the shop?”

Erik was about to say yes but a customer entered the shop. The figure wore a woollen hooded raincoat. A strange garment as it was a blazing hot day in the middle of summer.

“After you’ve helped our customer here, that is”, Gray continued.

Erik looked at the cloaked figure who seemed to be looking at the wares near the front window. Though Erik noticed he was actually observing the streets in front of the shop, as if he expected ruffians to suddenly jump out of the crowd and seize him. Not exactly what you’d call a normal type, Erik thought. Gray seemed to agree. He knocked twice on the counter, one of their agreed signs, telling Erik to watch the wares. Gray nodded politely at the customer and left the shop. As soon as he was outside, the strange customer looked out the window once more. No ruffians came out of the crowd. Reassured, the customer threw off the cloak. She appeared to be a young woman with red, curly hair. Under her mantle, she wore a simple white dress with blue accents. Her light green eyes looked around curiously. As if she just realised where she was.

Erik relaxed. No thief worth her salt would show her face that easily. Not in Arkaan, where street urchins could scour the city for a face if you paid them a copper piece.

“Could I help you with something?“, Erik asked.

The girl looked up in surprise. Then she laughed: “To be perfectly honest. I’m just hiding from someone here.”

Erik was stunned. Did she just shamelessly tell him that she was playing hide-and-seek in their shop? Before he could say a word she had already turned away from him. She pointed at something near the front window.

“Did you make this?”

Erik went to stand next to her. She was pointing at an iron pen with decorations in the form of a silver dragon. It spat flames fashioned from red gold which convened right on the tip of the pen. Its eyes were filled with blue agate. Erik had spent at least a week on it.

“Yes, Miss”, he said, trying not to gloat. He was proud of the pen. It was the first major work he had done without Gray’s help, and this girl was looking at it admiringly. Especially the dragon she studied thoroughly. Standing next to her, Erik noticed she was rather small. Her skin was very pale, as if she rarely went outside. Erik assumed she was the daughter of a noble house. Or at least from a very wealthy family. It wasn’t rare for rich girls to run away from home, in hopes of experiencing adventures in the lower city. They often got dragged back uptown crying by hulking chaperones.

“It’s beautiful”, she said, “Very beautiful.”

“Thank you”, Erik said sincerely. His work was often overshadowed by his uncle’s. It wasn’t often that customers were interested in his wares.

“The details on this thing are amazing”, she looked at Erik, “How long did this take you?”

Erik was taken aback by the question: “Oh, well. A few days or so. It took some time to get the temperature for the alloys right, which forced me to start over a few times. It was also a pain fitting the eyes in their-”

Erik stopped. He realised he was rambling again. The girl did not seem to mind, however. She looked interested: “Days? On end? I consider myself lucky if I stay motivated for something for more than an hour...”

There was a commotion outside the shop. Three old men had arrived at the edge of the plaza. All of them were wearing the same white-blue dress as the girl. She followed his gaze and noticed the three seniors as well. For a moment she bit her lip. Without warning, she grabbed the pen.

“I’ll take it”, she laughed as she ran out of the shop. Erik had to process what had happened for a second before realising that he was being robbed.

“Miss! You still have to pay!“, he called after her.

“Send the bill to the college of mages!”

Erik ran to the door opening where her face suddenly reappeared. Erik managed to stop just in time. A foot further and he would’ve knocked her over.

“And stop calling me miss. My name’s Lorelei.”

She took a step back and instantly vanished in the dense crowd. Erik just stood there, bewildered. She was gone without a trace. And he couldn’t just go run around the plaza, leaving his shop unguarded. He glanced in the direction of the three old men. They too had disappeared.

“Shite”, he said as he walked back into the shop. His uncle would kill him for this. Unless he somehow managed to get paid. But was what she said about the college of mages true or did she just play some weird joke on him? Her dress had looked expensive so she could’ve been speaking the truth. But then why didn’t she just pay him? If she hadn’t had any money on her she could’ve just sent a servant after it later. Erik seated himself behind the counter and grabbed a piece of parchment. Sketching always cleared his mind. But this time he couldn’t focus at all. His thoughts kept returning to the roguish, red-haired girl.