Ember and Chris stepped outside the hall, and cool air immediately hit Ember in the face. Goosbumps ran up his skin as the cold settled over his body. The warm food from before was already starting to invigorate him. The sun had just started to peek over the mountain ranges that surrounded them, and Ember realized it was the same valley he had ridden by on his biking trail. The irony was not lost on him.

  In front of him, six pillars rose on each side, creating a path toward a cobblestone road. Torches were set into the stone objects. The city itself seemed very medieval, something he’d see out of a fantasy anime or game. Just in front of the hall entrance, a large man in a suit, not much different from the Avis, bowed.

  “I am your guide. You can call me Jakis. Come, we have little time.” As they walked onto the street, Ember stared around him in a mix of wonder and trepidation.

  The main walkway they stepped onto was made of cobblestone. Most of the buildings around them appeared to be constructed from stone and wood, but the guildhall stood out as the most impressive. From what Ember could see, it was built of white marble, several stories tall, with grand arches and elegant windows. It looked out of place, and scaffolding wrapped around the sides.

  To his surprise, there were also streetlights. He hadn’t expected to find electricity here, but it was clearly present. There weren’t any visible powerlines or ways for the lights to work, but they gave off a steady glow. He just chalked it up to magic. Might as well.

  They followed the main path into a large, square-shaped plaza. At its center stood a fountain with the statue of a short man sporting a large beard and expensive-looking clothes. A dwarf, maybe. Or a halfling. Ember wasn’t entirely sure. Did those even exist here?

  “That is Mr. Bling,” Jakis said as they crossed the plaza. “Founder of Bling, the merchant company. He has complete and total control over the frontier, easily one of the most powerful men in the world.”

  “Ah,” Ember said as they walked by. He scanned the crowd. There were a couple of hundred people moving about. Many wore light armor, leather or light chainmail, but just as many looked like regular citizens. He noticed a distinct lack of other races. Maybe humans are the main species here.

  On the other side of the plaza, they entered what looked like a craftsmanship district. Smokestacks rose from forges, and the pounding of hammers rang from swordsmiths. Clothing shops, weapon shops, and general stores lined the road.

  As they walked, Ember could feel people staring. Jakis noticed it too.

  “They already know who you are,” he said. “Infamous, of course, but well-known nonetheless.”

  “Why? I’m surprised it already spread.” Ember shrank visibly under the weight of their gazes.

  “Well,” Jakis said, “you did kill women and children.”

  Ember froze. Images from that night flashed through his mind. Nausea rose in his throat. He wanted to run, to hide somewhere dark and quiet. People seemed interested but relatively uncaring about his obvious distress. Like it was a regular occurrence.

  But Chris spoke up. His usual easygoing tone was gone, replaced by something cold.

  “Don’t think about it,” he said, eyes straight ahead. “There’s nothing you could’ve done. It wasn’t your fault. Deaths happen. That’s just the way it is in this world.”

  “But how?” Ember’s voice trembled, the screams now echoing in his head. “I can’t—I can’t get it out of my head.”

  “Just pretend it didn’t happen,” Chris said. “And if you can’t do that, then find another way to think about it. But don’t dwell on it. Nothing good will come from forcing yourself to remember. It’s what I do. I’m still sane... relatively.”

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  Ember stared at Chris. There’s more to him than meets the eye. Of course there is.

  With effort, he pushed the images down, deciding to view this place more like a novel or a game than the reality he had to live in. It helped. A little. Though wailing still echoed in the shadows of his mind.

  They approached a forge with a sign out front reading The Dwarves' Hammer and headed inside. Ember didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t a seven-foot-tall man with a massive, bushy beard and metal rings braided down into a V-shape. His face looked dwarven, but his body resembled that of a giant. Weapons lined the walls and filled the glass cases at the counter. The room itself was rustic, made of finely crafted wood and stone. It was hot enough for Ember to start sweating immediately, and the air was stuffy.

  The man smiled. “Hello there. How can I help you today, travelers?” His voice boomed and rumbled like thunder.

  Ember winced at the volume.

  Chris strolled up and leaned casually against the counter. He jerked a thumb toward Ember. “We need a sheath for that sword.”

  The man looked at Ember, who reluctantly placed the sword on the glass case. The dwarf rubbed his beard.

  “I see. The meteor blade. Quite the weapon. So you must be the infamous traverser who destroyed the Cathedral of the Cratered Sword. Yes, I see.” The rings in his beard jingled as he nodded. “Give me an hour, and we can have something fitted to it. It won’t be the most amazing craftsmanship you’ve ever seen, but it’ll get the job done.”

  Chris nodded. “Price?”

  The man considered it for a moment, rubbing his beard. “Ten silver.”

  Ember handed over a gold coin. He counted out change and gave back a pouch with forty silver pieces.

  So that’s the conversion rate, huh, Ember thought. He looked up. “So, why is this place called The Dwarven Hammer? I was kind of expecting to see dwarves.”

  The man chuckled. “You’re looking at one.”

  Ember’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re a dwarf?”

  “Of course,” the man rumbled. “My people are proud. We forged weapons of legend in the olden times. We’re rarer these days, but we still exist in the odd ends of the world.”

  “I thought you’d be… shorter.” Ember looked away sheepishly, realizing that might be offensive as the words faded out.

  The man let out a booming laugh. “You traversers are funny. Not the first time I’ve heard that from your kind. But no, we are not short. Many of us have grown to be some of the tallest humanoid species in the world. We have to be, if we want to be great craftsmen.”

  Ember shrugged. “Yeah, I can see that.” Though the image of the typical dwarf still rang clear in his mind. At least he’s got the beard down.

  “Anyway,” the dwarf said, “come back in about an hour, and I’ll have the sheath ready for you.”

  They exited the store. Ember didn’t have the sword with him—it stayed with the dwarf—but he was fine with that. Mostly. There was an empty feeling inside him, like a piece of him had been pulled away. He shook off the thought, though the feeling lingered.

  They followed Jakis to an armorsmith. Inside, the place resembled the forge. It was rustic as well; however, the smell of leather and oil filled the room, and all kinds of armour lined the walls on mannequins. Everything, from large metal chest pieces to simple chain mail shirts. Behind the counter sat a small, shrewd-looking man, a pair of small glasses on his face as he threaded leather together.

  “How may I help you?” The little man asked, his voice far deeper than the Ember expected.

  He went to open his mouth, but Chris interjects, “Something light and cheap. No more than a gold piece.”

  The man stared Ember down. “I see,” he said. Within a few minutes, Ember obtained a leather chest piece and arm guards. Just enough to protect him from lethal hits. He wanted to browse more, but Chris wouldn’t let him.

  A clothing store was next. He spent even less time there. Chris handled the shopping, buying him a simple cloak and basic travel clothes—plain, sturdy, and practical. He had no say in the matter, but at the same time didn’t mind. Chances were he wouldn’t even know what to buy anyway.

  Then they returned to the blacksmith.

  The dwarf smiled when they came back inside the forge. The heat was noticeably higher, and Ember was already sweating once again. On the counter sat the sheath for his sword—plain leather with a metal clasp at the top. The dwarf handed it over with a beaming smile.

  “It’s simple, but it’ll do. Keep your weapon safe and well cared for and it won’t let you down when you need it most.”

  Ember nodded. “Thank you.”

  Chris grabbed his shoulder and guided him out, his grip tight on Ember’s shoulder.

  “What’s the rush?” Ember asked. “I kinda wanted to look around.”

  “We don’t have time for that,” Chris said. “You may not have noticed, but we’ve gathered some unwanted attention.”

  Ember started to ask what he meant, but it became immediately obvious once they stepped outside.

  A group of five people blocked their path back toward the plaza. All of them looked angry.