“I’ll bring you to the best blacksmith in the Western Continent.”
Seeing Anya’s suddenly darkened expression, Sisou hurriedly changed the direction of his horse. He seemed to think Anya was disappointed by Tildyen’s appearance. But rather than disappointment, Anya felt more worried. The responsibility of his future role weighed heavily on him.
They rode their horses across the square to the opposite outskirts. The blacksmith guild association was gathered in the outskirts. Hazy smoke drifted up from the old forge’s chimney.
“Hey, Ban!”
Near the furnace, despite the cold, a man was hammering away with his upper body bare. The man raised his head at Sisou’s call. He had a large scar on his face and a fierce appearance.
“First time seeing a dwarf?”
Surprisingly, the man was incredibly short. His curly hair and unkempt, messy beard made him look like a fully grown man, but his arms and legs were as short as a child’s. Anya wasn’t particularly tall himself, but the man was much, much shorter than him.
Ban put down his huge iron hammer and wiped the thick beads of sweat from his forehead. Startled by the rough voice, Anya shook his head.
“Ban, this person here is Tildyen’s new master. Watch your language.”
“…A man?”
Ban’s eyes narrowed thinly. Behind Sisou stood a small boy, Anya, with cheeks flushed red from the winter wind and long hair sticking out in all directions—by anyone’s standards, a pretty but skinny young man.
“Tildyen’s new mistress is… a man… and a child at that?”
The blacksmith Ban asked this with an expressionless face, but Anya became dejected, feeling that his gender had disappointed the man.
“What, is there a problem with him being a man? And he came of age this year.”
Sisou spoke somewhat casually, as if he were Anya’s older brother.
“If he’s a man, how will he continue the lineage?”
Blacksmith Ban, despite his small stature, rarely seemed intimidated. The man’s question was quite improper, but Anya didn’t feel offended as there was no hint of mockery in his expression. In truth, Anya had been curious about that too.
“Men can also get pregnant…”
Sisou hastily closed his mouth. He turned his head to look at Anya, then back at Ban, and let out a sigh. Sisou, roughly tousling his blond hair, plopped down on a makeshift chair crudely cut from a wooden pillar.
“Never mind that. Ban, I have something that needs repair. Your Highness?”
Anya removed the scabbard from his waist and handed it to Ban. Ban’s palm was as thick and large as a pot lid, unlike his stunted-looking short legs, making the thin sword look even thinner.
“‘Thaw,’ it is.”
Without realizing it, Anya repeated Ban’s words.
“Thaw…?”
“…One of the five legendary swords. How did this end up here?”
“Red Coast.”
Despite Sisou’s brief, clipped answer, the blacksmith seemed to accept it as a clear explanation.
“Ah, that makes sense.”
Red Coast was a name given to the coastal area on the outskirts of the city, said to be perpetually red with the blood of people. As infamous as it was, all kinds of goods and treasures circulated freely in the city’s black market. This sword, once called a legendary blade, must have found its way there too.
“Since it’s not made of ordinary steel, it will take a few days.”
Ban examined Thaw in the moonlight, turning it this way and that while speaking gruffly.
“We need to leave for North Moutht in a few days. As quickly as possible.”
“…Still as impulsive as ever, I see.”
Sisou let out an empty laugh.
“Thanks for the compliment.”
Ban spoke casually as he waddled away on his short legs.
“By the way, would you also like a holder?”
Anya, thinking the question might be directed at him, looked at Sisou with wide eyes. Sisou shrugged his shoulders.
“What? Oh, yes… th-thank you.”
“That won’t take long, so please sit down and wait for a bit.”
Anya and Sisou promptly sat on chairs near the furnace to thaw their frozen bodies. The sound of hammering and leather-working could be heard nearby. Anya, with eyes full of curiosity, stole glances at the dwarf’s back as he hammered away. Unknown to him, Sisou was staring at him intently. Anya drew in a sharp breath and blushed. He felt embarrassed, wondering if he had been staring too openly.
“Is this your first time seeing a dwarf?”
“I-I’ve only s-seen them in b-books.”
Ban returned, waddling with the holder he had completed in less than a few minutes.
“How do they describe us in books? As underdeveloped humans? As handicapped people?”
Anya’s mouth opened and closed. He wanted to say something kind about this great craftsman who so casually made bitter jokes about himself, but in truth, the books Anya had read did describe dwarves negatively.
“Well, there are no dim-witted dwarves in the capital, so I guess it’s fascinating. Oh, don’t worry, my disease isn’t contagious.”
“I-I didn’t m-mean it l-like that…”
Anya stuttered severely, looking like he was about to cry. He was so flustered that words tangled mercilessly in his mouth.
“Tildyen is full of people like me, so you’ll have a lot to worry about in the future.”
Ban muttered as he finished the holder with a large needle and stiff thread soaked in glue. Anya finally stood up and shouted.
“That’s n-not what I meant!”
A silence fell. Sisou looked up at Anya with a surprised face. The dwarf’s fierce face, reddened by the glow of the furnace, stared at Anya.
“I-it’s my first time s-seeing a blacksmith. You were s-so cool that I couldn’t help but…”
His voice trembled. Anya was deeply shocked that his behavior might have been perceived as discrimination against dwarves. Unable to finish his sentence properly, he ran like he was escaping to Mil, who was tied up outside.
“Hey, Ban. Stop teasing him. Despite how he looks, he won a duel of honor quite splendidly.”
Sisou spoke with a sigh, his hand on his forehead.
Ban’s curly brown beard twitched.
“…I wonder how he’ll grow up.”
Sisou clapped his hands.
“Right? You think so too? And his magic…”
“Magic?”
“Ah… pretend you didn’t hear that.”
Snow began to fall again in the darkened sky. Outside the forge, Anya stroked Mil’s mane and sniffled.
“Come back in two days. I’ll have the repairs done.”
Ban and Sisou, having finished their conversation, approached Anya. Ban tossed the newly finished leather holder toward Anya. Thanks to Sabelli, Anya caught the leather holder with a nimble movement. Anya looked like he was about to cry.
“That’s not even half of half of my skill, so if you bring a bundle of money later, I’ll prepare something magnificent for you.”
Ban twitched his mustache.
* * *
Anya tried on the leather holder he received from Ban around his waist. The blacksmith’s skill was so excellent that the holder fit perfectly even on Anya’s skinny waist. There were no rough or irritating parts. For something made so quickly, or rather, compared to any handcrafted item, it was exceptionally well-made.
“Th-thank you.”
Anya’s mumbling voice was as moist as the falling snow in Tildyen. Ban simply flicked one finger curtly.
“How could Tildyen’s master say such things to me?”
He appeared stubborn and unfriendly, just like the descriptions of dwarves Anya had read in books, but somehow, a corner of Anya’s heart continued to warm. It was truly strange.
“Thanks, Ban.”
Sisou shifted his gaze to the sky.
“Your Highness, the snow looks ominous. Darkness has fallen, so we should hurry on our way.”
At Sisou’s words, Anya shook off the snow accumulated on his head and put on his robe’s hood. They mounted their horses and left the blacksmith guild association street, bid farewell by Ban.
“Yikes. I didn’t expect the snow to get this strong. It’s almost Snowstorm season… Your Highness, please follow me closely!”
Around this time, massive snowstorms swept down from the Beriela Mountain Range. The so-called Snowstorm. Before magicians were stationed here, Tildyen suffered much damage every year from avalanches pouring down from Beriela.
“Y-yes. Don’t w-worry.”
He gripped the reins tightly. Sisou rode his horse faster than when they had come. The blowing snow made visibility chaotic. The two horses frantically passed through the outer walls and back through the damp forest. Each time the hooves passed, the now-thickly accumulated snow sprayed upward.
“Are you alright?”
Sisou occasionally slowed his horse to match Anya’s pace.
“You ride quite well now. I guess there’s nothing like real-world experience.”
Sisou burst into a refreshing laugh. The flying snow had already soaked Sisou’s hair thoroughly. The same was true for Anya. His cheeks, which had grown increasingly pale since coming to Tildyen due to rarely seeing sunlight, were now red like well-ripened apples from the cold.
“You look… like a snowman.”
Anya’s robe, made of wool, was particularly good at catching snowflakes on the hood. At Sisou’s joke, Anya’s face now glowed like a luscious autumn apple harvested in Maneregia. The corner of Sisou’s mouth turned up playfully. He shouted “Hiyah!” and rode ahead quickly.
Anya hurriedly followed him, but before he knew it, laughter escaped from him. It was because Sisou felt just like an older brother to him. It was strange to feel this brotherly affection from him that he had never felt from his brothers in the Imperial Palace, but he wondered if this was what brotherhood was supposed to be.
Though the cold was terribly biting, as if it would peel his skin off, on the other hand, it was as warm as if someone had brought a bonfire to one side of his chest.
