The heat hit Vex first—a wall of dry, blistering air laced with smoke and sweat. The clang of hammer on metal followed, sharp and rhythmic like a heartbeat that echoed through the open forge. Vex stepped into the blacksmith’s shop with wide eyes and a tight grip on the strap of his satchel. Tools, blades, half-formed armor, and coils of wire lined the walls like trophies. It smelled of iron, fire, and determination.

  He didn’t look like a teenager—though he felt just as inexperienced—but this apprenticeship was meant for them. Not for someone like him, displaced and quietly desperate. Still, it was a start.

  “Ah, you must be Vex.”

  A burly man emerged from the orange glow, arms blackened with soot and sleeves rolled to the elbows. His beard was more ash than brown, and sweat streamed freely down his weathered face.

  “I’m Isaak. Master smith of this fine mess.” He gave a half-smile and gestured toward the forge. “You ready to work, or just here to admire the décor?”

  Vex straightened. “I’m ready. I want to learn everything you can teach me.”

  Isaak chuckled as he tossed Vex a thick leather apron. “Ambitious. That’s good. But you’ll start where everyone starts. On bellows duty.”

  Vex blinked. “Bellows?”

  “Someone’s got to keep the fire alive,” Isaak said, gesturing to the hulking contraption beside the forge. “Today, that someone is you.”

  Vex hurried over, but paused in front of the bellows, eyeing the strange wooden contraption with uncertainty. He hesitated, then gave one of the handles an experimental tug. Nothing. He adjusted his grip and tried again, this time pulling with a steady rhythm. The bellows groaned and the forge responded with a roar, flames leaping higher. Isaak nodded in approval as sweat began to bead on Vex’s brow.

  Isaak selected a thin iron rod and held it in the heat until it glowed a molten orange. Then he brought it to the anvil and struck with the ease of long practice. Sparks flew. The ring of metal on metal filled the space, relentless and precise.

  “Nails,” Isaak said between strikes. “The humblest beginning for any smith. Simple, but essential. Teaches control, timing, patience.”

  Vex watched closely as the rod narrowed and flattened under Isaak’s hammer. As he focused, he felt a subtle, almost instinctual nudge—like his Fire Making skill had quietly stirred, offering him a whisper of guidance. The head of the nail took shape with a few practiced blows. Isaak gave a satisfied grunt, then casually dropped the finished nail onto the anvil. To Vex's surprise, the single nail clinked down—then another appeared beside it, and another, until a neat pile of identical nails lay there, at least a dozen in all.

  Vex blinked. "Did you just... duplicate them?"

  Isaak offered no explanation, only a sly smile as he turned back to the forge. But the gears in Vex’s mind turned. Some kind of forging talent? A duplication trait, maybe? Whatever it was, the older smith wasn’t showing his full hand.

  “Your turn.”

  Vex hesitated, releasing the bellows. Isaak handed him the hammer, heavier than expected, and gestured to another iron rod resting in the coals. Vex retrieved it, placed it on the anvil, and raised the hammer. His first strike was awkward, missing the mark and skidding off the edge.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Again,” Isaak said simply.

  He tried again. And again. The rod bent, twisted, resisted him, but he kept going. Isaak offered only quiet nods and the occasional pointer—wrist steadier, eye on the strike, let the hammer do the work.

  Eventually, Vex held up something vaguely nail-like: crooked, stubby, but real. As Vex inspected is work, system prompts began to flash in the corner of his vision.

  Your Forging skill has reached level 1.

  Your Hammering skill has reached level 1.

  “Not bad for a first try,” Isaak said, turning it over. “Make another.”

  “How many do you need?” Vex asked, already feeling the dull ache in his arms.

  Isaak grinned. “About a hundred. We’re low on stock.”

  “A hundred?” Vex stared at him, aghast. “I thought I’d be learning to make swords.”

  “Walk before you run,” Isaak said. “Swords come later. Nails teach you everything you’ll need to know. Precision. Endurance. Discipline. Besides, if you can make a perfect nail, you can make just about anything.”

  Vex sighed, but nodded. There was a strange satisfaction in the work, in the focus it required. And as the clanging resumed, Isaak continued working on a larger blade at the neighboring station.

  "You know," Isaak said over the din, "there’s more than one way to grow strong in this world.”

  Vex paused mid-strike. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, take blacksmithing. It’s not flashy, but it sharpens you. Teaches you more than just how to hit metal.”

  “Is that like leveling up?” Vex asked before he could stop himself.

  Isaak raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Leveling up, huh? Haven’t heard it put that way before. But it's likely the same idea. You grow.”

  Vex set the hammer down and leaned in, curiosity replacing fatigue. “Do people talk about that? I mean, in other parts of the world?”

  “Every kingdom’s got its own take,” Isaak said. “Some focus on combat. Some on magic. Others on crafting. You’ll find all kinds of specialties.”

  “What do they call it here?”

  “Here in Sol-Oslomar? We’re the practical sort. Magic’s rare. We train warriors, rangers, survivalists. People who can make do when the odds are bad.”

  Vex nodded slowly, filing the information away. It was so different from the world he remembered—his world.

  “Back home,” he said carefully, “it was all science and tech. We specialized. One path, all the way.”

  Isaak gave him a sideways look. “That’s a whole different kind of world. You’ll have to tell me about it sometime.”

  Vex smiled faintly, grateful he didn’t press further.

  They fell into silence again, broken only by the hammer's unsteady rhythm. But Vex's mind kept turning.

  “I have this trait,” he said eventually. “One for All. It shares experience with my guildmates. But that means I grow slower, right?”

  Isaak whistled low. “That’s not too common. Usually only used in academies, where teachers benefit from their students’ progress.”

  “Does that make it… bad for a guild?” Vex asked, the question burning.

  Isaak shrugged. “Only if the guild’s short-sighted. A trait like that? It builds something stronger than solo power. It builds unity. Shared strength. That’s worth more than quick progress.”

  Vex nodded, the weight in his chest easing. Maybe he didn’t have to be the strongest. Maybe he could be the spark that strengthened everyone else.

  He lifted the hammer again, steadier this time. The anvil welcomed him with another ringing note.

  Then, as though on impulse, Vex asked, “What about monster hunting? Is that a way to grow?”

  Isaak barked a laugh. “Sure. If you like danger, blood, and occasionally being eaten.”

  “Ever hunted any yourself?” Vex asked, curious.

  “The sewers,” Isaak said, rubbing his beard. “I used to clear them out all the time, back when I was a city guard. Hated every second of it—rats the size of dogs, slime everywhere, no light. That’s part of why I became a blacksmith. Metal doesn't bite back—usually. They haven’t been cleared in a while now. Could be something nasty down there.”

  Vex’s eyes lit up. “The sewers, huh…”

  Isaak caught the look and jabbed a finger in warning. “Don’t get any ideas. They’re a labyrinth. One wrong turn, and you’ll be rat food.”

  But Vex was already imagining the possibilities. He had his Shadowlings. They could scout ahead, map the tunnels, warn him of danger—without him ever stepping foot inside. This would be their quest, not his. A test run, a way to see what they could really do when given a task of their own.

  He looked down at the pile of crooked, imperfect nails and allowed himself a small grin—half pride, half disbelief. He was drenched in sweat, his arms already sore, and he’d barely scratched the surface of Isaak’s so-called "starter task." Still, they could be mistaken for nails. That counted for something, right?