All-Knowing Novice, page 7
The moment he saw her, Taryn felt like someone had punched him in the gut.
Yawen? What’s she doing here? He gawked at the sudden appearance of his first crush. He could only watch as they approached his hiding place, as the fear of being discovered and the shock of seeing her again had completely paralyzed him.
It took everything he had to move enough to ensure they couldn’t easily see him. The men’s voices grew louder by the second as they approached, seemingly never growing tired of their bickering.
“Princess, I beg of you—please reconsider. There are other things you can do, safer things, for your mastery ceremony. You don’t need to venture—”
Princess? Yawen’s a princess!? Taryn’s eyes bulged at the new information, and he had to fight down the urge to gasp.
“Uncle Tao, I do not need your constant nagging. Besides, I’ve already gotten Mother’s approval. We are going to the Qiao ancestral home, end of discussion.”
“But—”
“My sister has made up her mind, Uncle Tao. Just let it go.”
“Why are you okay with this? Yawen is your sister, your twin! How can you just let her go through with this?”
“Because it is not my place to decide. Yawen is the future matriarch. If she thinks she can do this, then she has my full support. It’s a shame that she doesn’t have yours.”
“Watch your tongue, Xia Wei. It’d certainly disappoint your playmates if you bit it off while speaking such garbage.” Taryn didn’t need to see the man’s face to know he was furious. He could practically smell the vitriol in the air.
“Would the two of you be silent? You’re both disgracing the Qiao name with this pettiness.” Yawen’s voice rose as her annoyance grew. A fact Taryn was a bit happy to see hadn’t changed.
Yawen looked so different from how she did before that it was comforting to know at least one thing from his memories remained true.
“Yes, Princess.”
“Sorry, Yawen.” The voices of both men became contrite, and they stopped speaking almost immediately.
Taryn listened to their footsteps fade into the distance, then waited a while longer to ensure they were truly gone before he left his hiding place.
So... Yawen’s a princess of the Qiao clan, huh? Maybe that’s why she disappeared. I’ve heard how busy the upper echelon’s children are with cultivation training, the rigorous studying the clan heads put them through, and all the events they’re forced to attend. It’s no wonder she couldn’t make time to come see me. So, maybe I should go see her sometime? Taryn grinned at the idea, but quickly suppressed it. No, I’d better not. If she’s really that busy, then I’d only be getting in her way.
Looking towards the entrance to the industrial district, Taryn let out an annoyed sigh upon seeing the guards still hanging around. This left him with few options, so he turned back the way he’d come and headed towards one of the other entrances.
There were three in total: one in the first residential district, one in the market district, and one in the second residential district. Taryn would head for the one in the market district and hope that no one was guarding it.
Walking through the market district in the dead of night felt oddly surreal after the day he’d had.
Under Dawen’s pale light, the stone structures of the market looked abandoned, not because they were falling into disrepair, but because they seemed hollow— shells of what they were supposed to be.
It was as if the people he’d seen going about their day earlier that afternoon were nothing but a memory.
Sale signs littered his view: buy one get one; buy five of this thing, get two of that thing; on and on it went. The merchants were trying their best to bring in as many tiena as they could in order to support their families.
Yet another hour had passed by the time Taryn made it to the second entryway, and he was beginning to feel exhaustion creep into his body. The adrenaline from the fight and his anxiety over seeing Yawen again had done a lot to mask it, but Taryn knew he couldn’t ignore it forever. He would need to sleep at some point. His stomach grumbled loudly, reminding him of his need to eat more than just a few sips of soup.
As it was much later into the night, or rather, much further into the new day, a few tendrils of Rala’s light were peeking over the horizon, the sky shifting from an eerily beautiful star-filled sky to a miraculous display of black, purple, and green.
Taryn loved this time of day. It was the only time he could truly move around the city without feeling like someone was watching him.
He arrived at his destination a short while later. The building itself wasn’t very large, only a single story comprised of thick gray stone with half a dozen iron pipes extending towards the heavens that ventilated the building.
Compared to the buildings that surrounded it, it looked remarkably plain, almost boring even. Above the large wooden door that served as its entrance was a single wooden board that served as a sign. It read Liang’s in black ink.
Whoever wrote the sign had beautiful handwriting; the letters flowed together without a single imperfection.
Taryn attempted to push the door open, but it wouldn’t budge.
I guess hoping to get this over with before anyone saw me was just too much to ask for. He internally groaned. Fine, looks like I’ve got a few hours to kill, might as well try to get some shut-eye. Taryn found a spot on the ground not far from the smithy and sat down with his back against a wooden fence.
He closed his eyes and attempted to go to sleep... Except he couldn’t. He sat there for half an hour without sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, his battle against the robber returned to his mind. Every mistake and every success flowed through his memories in equal measure, each one crystal clear inside his mind.
After another ten minutes of being unable to fall asleep, Taryn sighed and climbed to his feet. It looked like he would need to find something else to do to occupy his time.
He had a few options to choose from, though what he really wanted to do was spend a little time getting used to his makeshift weapon.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t really do that in the middle of the road.
If the Ukata clan found out that he was training, there was only one person they would blame: his grandmother.
He walked a short distance away, making sure to stay within eyesight of the building, then looked for an open, out-of-the-way space. He found several places that fit the description, but none gave him enough space to properly move his weapon.
After searching for nearly half an hour, he was finally forced to settle on a courtyard sixty feet south of Liang’s.
It would serve his purpose well enough; it had high fences to block him from view, and enough space for him to practice without placing too many restrictions on himself.
He reached into his bag and pulled out the rope. The stone was still snug inside its knot, but Taryn noticed tiny cracks along its surface.
It was frustrating, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to use the stone for much longer without it breaking. Luckily, that was the precisely why he’d come to Liang’s.
He’d been hearing stories of Master Liang’s craftsmanship for as long as he could remember.
Fan Shun swore by the man and talked about his weapons as if they were instruments of the divine. So it was only natural that the moment Taryn decided he needed a weapon made, he would only go to Master Liang.
I only hope I can convince him to keep this a secret from Grandma. The thought of his grandmother finding out made Taryn extremely uneasy, especially so soon after she’d discovered his other pastime. If she found out about this... Taryn shuddered at the thought.
He shook his head to clear any stray thoughts from his mind, then he began to slowly spin the stone. He practiced shooting the stone at an imaginary target and allowing the rope to fully extend before pulling it back. Successfully combining the two moves was much harder than he’d first believed it would be. And trying to smoothly add in a spin was damn near impossible for the first hour.
Taryn knew the problem; he just wasn’t sure how to fix it. While he knew what to do, and he could picture the technique in his mind with perfect clarity, he was having a lot of trouble turning that information into an action.
Even going as slow as he possibly could, Taryn couldn’t make the stone hit the same place twice in a row until almost two hours had passed. There were always slight deviations in the stone’s trajectory that he couldn’t account for, and it was beginning to drive him mad with frustration.
The stone slammed into the ground and let out a high-pitched cracking sound after Taryn failed to manipulate it properly.
He yanked on the rope to return the stone to his awaiting hand. However, even though the rope came back to him, the stone did not.
The loud sound he’d heard was the sound of the stone fracturing down the middle.
He looked at the ground in front of him and noticed chunks of rock scattered along the path of the rope.
In a fit of anger, Taryn threw the rope on the ground and stormed off towards Liang’s.
The moment he set foot outside the courtyard, he realized that the district was now full of people going about their day.
To his surprise they had ignored him entirely. He spotted some nearby children eyeing him with obvious interest, but for the most part, seeing someone training wasn’t unusual. Most people simply ignored it and tried not to disturb the cultivator.
Had they known who he was, he had no doubt that someone would’ve questioned him.
Taryn’s eyes involuntarily slid to the door of Liang’s; it was open. Black smoke drifted from the multiple iron pipes on the roof, and the sound of metal hitting metal could be heard from four buildings away.
Taryn approached the building and looked through the doorway; five men stood before a large forge.
They all wore the same outfit, which consisted of a leather chest piece, a leather apron wrapped around their legs, and a dark mask that covered the lower half of their face. They each wielded a hammer nearly the size of Taryn’s head, and as one hammer moved, so did they all.
None of the men were overly large, but the muscle they did have seemed to be compact and built for explosive movement.
Aside from the five men, there were numerous boys between the ages of twelve and sixteen working in the shop. They were doing all manner of tasks, from simple edge sharpening to more complex tasks like repairs and re-forgings.
Taryn had no doubt these boys were all training to be forgers, wielders of Shaper Eco.
It was commonplace for families to send their children, once they’d come of age and had their Eco awakened, to find employment while they continued their training.
Taryn noticed a man standing off to the side. While he wore the same garments as the five smiths, he wasn’t wearing a face covering, presumably because it got in the way of him barking orders at the trainees.
The man was stout and on the shorter side, with even some of the younger boys being taller than him.
Though it was obvious that he was balding, he still had some white hair that had been darkened by soot, or perhaps singed would be a more accurate description.
The man’s sharp eyes landed on Taryn. His gaze held no contempt, only aggravation.
“What do you want?” The man spoke quickly, his words loud enough to be heard even over the clanging of metal.
“I—” Taryn began, stepping fully into the smithy in order to be heard over the clanging of metal.
“That was rhetorical. I haven’t seen you before, so you’re clearly here to drop off an order. Take a number.” The man pointed to a mechanism near the door that had a thumb-sized piece of parchment sticking out.
Well, he doesn’t seem to recognize me. Maybe I can get through this without Grandma finding out. Taryn grabbed the piece of parchment; on its face was the number 167.
He gulped at the high number. Or maybe I’ll die of old age and not have to worry about it anymore.
“Um. Actually, I was hoping to speak to Master Liang?”
“I own this place, call me Zan.” The man grunted. “I’m nobody’s master.”
“Oh, I’ve heard so much about you, Mast—er, sir. I’ve been told you were the best smith in the city.”
“Look, kid, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit busy at the moment. So, either get to the point or get out. I have no time for your flowery words.”
“O...kay, well, I was wondering if we could perhaps work out a trade of some kind.”
“No.” Zan’s response was immediate. He turned away from Taryn and started barking out orders again.
Taryn stood there in stunned silence for several moments before he was able to shake himself out of it.
He approached the man and stepped in front of him, intending to block his view of the apprentices. “But, y-you haven’t even heard my offer yet.”
“Don’t need to. From the look of you, it’s clear you don’t have the capital to pay for my services, so you’re trying to scam me. It won’t work, boy. Smarter men than you have tried.”
“No, no scam. I swear it.”
“Your words mean even less to me than your offer. Leave. Now.” Zan moved to step around Taryn, but Taryn stopped him by placing a hand on the man’s arm.
That was a mistake.
The next thing Taryn knew, he was facing the ceiling with a large silver hammer positioned just above his nose. Zan’s face was just behind the hammer, his nostrils flaring and his cheeks flushed with rage. “I have killed men for less. The only reason you live is because you’re a stupid child.” Zan grabbed the front of Taryn’s robe and effortlessly pulled him to his feet.
He held the hammer up to Taryn’s chin and lightly pressed it against him. “You ever touch me again, you won’t live to become a stupid adult.” He lightly shoved Taryn away from him, then went back to work as if nothing happened.
Taryn heard snickering from some of the apprentices. His face flushed and his ears burned with embarrassment.
He lurched towards the door, his legs stumbling over themselves. Once he was through the door, he leaned against the wall to steady himself.
He could feel his eyes beginning to burn, but he stamped down any feelings of sadness as something else took hold.
It was the same feeling he’d had when he was staring down Gao Feng, and again when he was pursuing the robber: it was a feeling Taryn couldn’t recognize, but it quickly became all-encompassing, suppressing his other emotions until it became all he could feel.
Taryn quickly realized that while he was focused on that feeling, his embarrassment had simply faded away.
He could still feel the effects of it—his cheeks and ears were flushed, and his heart thundered in his chest—but it became mere background noise.
Taryn shoved the door open so hard that it banged against the inside wall. He strode inside, ignoring the hostile looks of the apprentices, and made his way over to Zan’s side and looked him straight in the eyes.
“I’ll give you something that’s worth more than a hundred other orders. All you have to do is complete my order in three days.”
The man barked out a laugh, which drew the attention of the apprentices.
It was a testament to how well trained the smiths were that they didn’t so much as flinch at the man’s laughter. They maintained their focus as they hammered away at whatever tool or weapon they were working on.
“All right, boy. Let’s say I humor you. Do you really have any idea what you’re asking?”
“Yes, I’m asking you to place my order ahead of everyone else’s.” Neither Taryn’s voice nor eyes wavered as he spoke.
“Surely you must know that we charge extra for such a service?”
“I would expect nothing less.”
The man barked out another laugh, and this time it was filled with genuine amusement.
The man nodded and motioned for Taryn to follow him. He led Taryn through a back room and into a small courtyard behind the smithy.
It was beautifully decorated, with flowers and ornaments on every flat piece of available surface. It was a bit more floral than Taryn had expected, but it was a nice place.
The man said nothing regarding the courtyard. He led Taryn to a wooden table and a set of chairs near the smithy’s rear entrance and motioned for him to sit down.
Taryn assumed that this was where the man brought people with custom orders, as he reached into a box beneath the table that Taryn hadn’t noticed and pulled out a large piece of parchment and a piece of charcoal.
“What do you want, and what are you offering?” the man asked, his clipped tone not receding even though the courtyard was relatively quiet.
Taryn gratefully accepted both and took a deep breath. He placed the charcoal on the piece of paper and began to draw: the first line was slow and imperfect. But as Taryn continued, the image came faster and faster until his hand was almost flying across the paper.
“What have you got there?” For the first time since meeting him, the man’s voice was slower, almost normal.
“It’s my order.”
“Well, I see that. I meant, what is it?”
“It’s a weapon. More importantly, it’s the weapon you’re going to make for me.”
“I see... Where did you get this design?”
“I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re asking,” Taryn immediately assured him.
Zan stared at the image for a long time. Taryn tried to get his attention several times, but Zan was too caught up in his own thoughts to notice. Finally, he seemed to snap out of it and looked Taryn straight in the eye. “How much?”
“I’m sorry?”
“How much do you want for the design?”
It took a second for Taryn to realize what he was asking. But when he did, Taryn grinned at him. “You make it for me, you can keep it. Make it for me in three days, and I’ll still give you a design equal in value to this one as your payment.”
