The village of Dragon’s Tear was little more than a large inn on the western shore of Dragon’s Tear Lake. The trail up to the inn had taken Charles and Heather three hours to climb. During that time they were passed by several carriages. When they arrived at the inn, Charles wondered if the climb had been in vain. By the look, the inn catered to the extremely wealthy and with only his sword and a blanket, Charles had no wealth.
Heather had only an ill fitting dress which she’d taken from the mining camp since her explosion had destroyed her own.
“The road stops here,” Heather said. “I’ve never heard of an Inn as a destination, just stops along the way to somewhere else.”
“I’m not sure this is the place to seek food we don’t have to forage,” Charles said. “I don’t think they’d let us in the front door.” From a distance the inn had looked large but modest; up close Charles could see the extremely detailed carvings in the trim surrounding every opening on the building.
“You’re probably right about that,” A woman’s voice said, approaching them from one of the few small houses of the village. The woman wore an apron and had several utensils hanging from its straps. “The menu in the Inn of the Dragon’s Breath is usually simple but the prices start at several silver coins. By the looks of you, you haven’t had a decent meal in a week, and your wardrobe is worse off than you.”
“Would you believe we were attacked by a dragon?” Heather asked.
“Just by your appearance, I would,” the woman answered. “But dragons aren’t stupid. They wouldn’t attack a man carrying a sword. There’s not enough meat on a man to make it worth the risk. Cows on the other hand are plenty of meat without much risk of being run through. This is one of the few places south of the great range where dragons can be found, but I’ve never heard of one attacking a person.”
Charles stepped up to the woman and offered his hand in greeting. “We’re from a little mining town up north, Blackstone. There was an explosion and most of the town was destroyed. My name is Charles and this is Heather.”
“I’m Amanda,” the woman said. “I do all the cooking at the inn. I might be able to get you a meal or two, but I’d feel better about it if you could offer something in return.”
“We’re blacksmiths,” Charles said. “If you have need of that kind of work, we could offer a trade.”
Amanda pointed to a building at the edge of town with a trail of black smoke pouring from the chimney. “We have a blacksmith, a young lad who just became a master, not much older than you. But I do have smithy work if you’re the right kind of iron worker.”
“What kind would that be?” Charles asked. “Iron is iron, heat it, hammer it, and cool it. We can make just about anything if we could borrow your smith’s tools and shop.”
“Gus’s is good at making things do exactly what they’re supposed to do,” Amanda said. “He has no sense for the aesthetic. I need a couple iron dragons to hang by the front door; they should look like they’re breathing fire. I keep asking Gus, but he’s not giving the job any priority since he can’t understand the purpose of them.”
“Sure we could do that,” Charles said. “Are you looking for cast or wrought iron?”
“Wrought,” Amanda said. “I just think it would look better from a distance. They should be this tall each.” She held her hand out at her shoulder level.
“Should we head to the forge then?” Heather asked.
“Let’s get you some food first,” Amanda said. “Follow me around to the side door.” As she started to walk, she added, “Occasionally guests leave some things behind. I’ll have to go through that stuff and see if there are any clothes that would fit you two.”
After a lunch of bread and some kind of lettuce that grew in the shallows of the lake, Charles and Heather headed to the blacksmith shop. Amanda had given them clothing that might have been some nobles’ hunting attire. The green and gray materials were soft leathers and heavy, layered, linen.
“I don’t think I could get used to wearing such tight pants,” Heather said. “We might have to venture into civilization to get some proper clothes in proper colors. I like the green, but the gray and brown are not pleasing.”
“I’m just happy to not be wearing a blanket,” Charles said.
Gus’s shop was small and tidy with piles of iron sitting behind it in a small open barn. A young man was drawing something at a desk on the opposite side of the workshop from the forge. Charles guessed it would be Gus and called out the name.
“Yes?” The man answered, setting his charcoal down. He walked over to Charles and Heather. “I’m the inn’s smith, any work you need should be requested through the barkeep, stable boy or innkeeper.”
Gus wore a red leather apron over a sooty white shirt and canvas pants. He had a lithe frame like a man who hadn’t yet reached twenty. Charles, though only twenty, had a thicker body. Perhaps Gus spent more time planning and less time swinging the hammer, Charles reasoned.
“Amanda sent us over to help you get those decorative dragons done,” Heather said.
Gus looked at Charles and nodded, “You look like a blacksmith. As long as you know what you’re doing and stay out of my way when I need to be at the anvil, have at it. The iron’s out back. I only use iron from the Red Clans, so don’t waste it.” Gus appraised them again, then, without another word, went back to his desk and picked up his charcoal.
“What did he mean that you look like a blacksmith?” Heather asked as they walked around back to pick out some iron from the barn. “You look like Charles to me.”
Charles pointed to the back of his wrist. “Strong muscles here mean that I’m either a blacksmith or a carpenter. He pointed to a different part of his hand, here would mean I’m a swordsman.”
“I guess the muscular shoulders don’t hurt,” Heather said. “Only Gus isn’t as muscular as you, I wouldn’t have noticed the same muscles on him.”
“Maybe maintaining an inn takes less smithy work than maintaining a coal mine.” Charles ventured.
Gus had a few long rods of iron among his stock so Charles picked half a dozen of them and headed back inside. The coals were barely warm, so he stirred them up and started pumping the bellows. He showed Heather how to pull the rope quick enough to speed the heating but not so fast as to burn away the coal closest to the bellows. He didn’t need to explain the whys to her; he’d done that several times in the past.
While the forge heated up, he stepped over to a rack of tools and looked for the right tongs, hammers and cutting chisels. A thick layer of dust covered the tool rack as he leaned over to blow the dust off, he paused.
“Heather, come here,” he said.
She left the bellows and stepped beside him. “What?”
“The tools,” Charles said. “Look.”
“Gus needs a maid,” Heather said.
“It’s not about what he needs,” Charles said. “It’s about what he doesn’t need.”
Heather looked at him like she didn’t want to play the guessing game.
“Something wrong?” Gus asked. He’d stepped over to the forge and pumped the bellows a couple times. “I should have two pairs of round stock tongs.”
“Oh!” Heather said. She elbowed Charles. She then said to Gus, “But you’re not sure?” With barely a pause she continued, “You’re not sure because you don’t use your tools.”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply.” Gus seemed nervous. Charles understood why.
“I’m implying you can do this,” Heather grabbed one of the iron rods and heated it to a red glow.”
“Of course I can,” Gus said. “Why didn’t you answer the Wizard call?”
“Wizard call?” Heather asked.
“You don’t know,” Gus said. “Well you should. When I said I only use Red Clan stock, you are supposed to respond, ‘Well, it is the hottest.’ That’s how we know we’re both Wizards. The red apron is a hint to ask about the Red Clan iron too.”
“I didn’t know,” Heather said. “I thought I was the only one.”
“You need to be trained,” Gus said. “You need to get to Melnith or Grabarden and seek one of the schools.”
“There are schools?” Heather asked. “I thought Wizards were extinct.”
“There are two, and they’re very secretive.” Gus put a finger to his lips. “Find a Wizard in one of those cities using the phrase I taught you and they’ll take you to the school.”
“I will,” Heather said.
“Do it soon,” Gus said. “More often than not, when a Wizard is untrained, they explode, usually killing themselves and sometimes blowing their homes apart, killing their families too.
“We might be too late for that,” Charles said. “Only when Heather had her incident, she destroyed a town.”
“And she survived?” Gus said. “Lady, you have too much power. Get trained and until you do, find some trollswart. It’s a relaxing herb that will help keep you calm.” He walked over to the tools and shook his head. “I guess the dust is a bit suspicious.”
“And your muscles are too small,” Charles said. “I see you keep your forge burning as a ruse, but you should do some of your work manually to help with the charade. It will build your muscles up a bit, which would also help.”
“Can you teach me anything?” Heather asked.
“I could,” Gus said. “But, without the proper training you will be dangerous with anything I’d show you. Training starts with several seasons of emotion control exercises, I really don’t want an untrained Wizard around me that long, especially not one that took down a town. You can get those dragons finished, but after that, get yourself to a school.”