A part of Arturo found himself excited to see Ulrich again. The blacksmith of Arindall, at least before the attack. He remembered the day he told Ulrich what sword he wanted. Ulrich had laughed and said he wouldn’t be able to handle such a weapon. Still, the blacksmith gave him a larger-than-average sword and expected that to be too much.

  Arturo trained every day and showed the blacksmith how light it was. Ulrich had been shocked and crafted a bigger sword but refused to go any larger. That was until Arturo showed him how easily he could handle the sword. Afterwards, Ulrich agreed to craft the weapon he originally wanted, the sword that hung on his back at this very moment.

  The blade was long, longer than Arturo was tall, and over twice as thick as a normal sword. Arturo had maintained the weapon, yet he hoped Ulrich would look at it to make sure it was fine. He trusted no one else with his sword.

  Ulrich’s shop was close by, at least if Maloi had given him the right directions. Arturo walked past a few kids who were play-fighting with sticks. He turned a corner, pushing past a crowd of people, and saw the man he was looking for.

  The blacksmith was getting older, with short gray hair, yet his muscles were bulging as he handed a helmet to a young man. Arturo stepped forward once Ulrich was alone. Ulrich’s back was facing Arturo when he arrived, and he was looking at a sword hanging on his wall.

  “Good to see you’re still alive,” Arturo said.

  Ulrich jumped and turned around. His eyes widened and his mouth gaped open. “Arturo? Is that really you?” he said.

  “It is.”

  “My word, you’ve grown into quite the young man!” Ulrich said and gave Arturo a hug. Despite Arturo’s own muscles, he could feel Ulrich’s strength as he squeezed him tightly.

  “It’s good to see you again,” Arturo said with a smile. He didn’t have much cause to smile. This was like seeing an old friend and he was always fond of the blacksmith.

  “I bet you’re the fifty-man slayer, aren’t you?”

  “Has everyone heard that story?”

  “Of course! It’s legendary,” Ulrich said and laughed. “Not many people can kill two people by themselves let alone fifty!”

  “It was quite the battle,” Arturo said.

  Ulrich walked around Arturo, beaming with delight. “You still have the sword I made you.”

  Arturo unhooked the weapon from his back, “Of course. This is the finest weapon a man can have. Without this, I would have died a long time ago.”

  “May I?” Ulrich reached out his hands and Arturo handed his sword over.

  “Oof, it's heavier than I remember,” Ulrich said as the sword almost dropped to the ground. He quickly recovered and examined the weapon. “My, my, you’ve put my sword to good use I see. You know, a weapon always has a story, and this one is quite fascinating.”

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  That was an old saying Ulrich said to everyone at least once. Arturo never understood what he meant. “Guessing it’s in pretty bad shape?”

  “Yes and no,” Ulrich said and flipped the weapon over. He lightly brushed the blade with his fingers. “You’ve taken good care of it, though the blade could use a bit of sharpening.”

  “I was hoping you would say that,” Arturo said. “How much? I have more than enough—”

  “Nonsense, my boy,” Ulrich said, waving his hand when Arturo reached into his pocket. “I will take no money from you. Not after that disaster in Arindall.”

  “I can af—”

  “No,” Ulrich interrupted and glared at Arturo. “You and I are some of the few survivors of Arindall.”

  Arturo didn’t miss the crack in Ulrich’s voice. That must mean his son was dead. So many were lost in that deadly raid and justice had yet to be found. “I will avenge our people,” Arturo said, clenching his fists as he spoke. His right hand began to shake. “I swear with everything I have that the people responsible for Arindall will pay.”

  “I hope so,” Ulrich said. “I hate to ask but do you know anyone else who survived?”

  “My sister survived. Same with Dorvan. I saw some others shortly after the attack,” Arturo said.

  “I haven’t been back since the attack,” Ulrich’s shoulders slumped and he shook his head. “Such a tragic night. I should have died when my house collapsed on me. Instead... Well…”

  “I understand,” Arturo said.

  Ulrich nodded. “Anyway, let's not talk about that anymore.”

  “Agreed,” Arturo said. “You’d be proud of Jen. She’s a strong warrior.”

  “I had a feeling she would find her way as a fighter,” Ulrich said with a light chuckle. “I recall her asking me to make her weapons for a long time.”

  “You did make her swords,” Arturo said.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Not on purpose, but do you recall making twin blades for Jahad?”

  “You can’t be—”

  “I am,” Arturo said and found himself smiling once more. “He had those crafted for Jen as a present.”

  “That sneaky little...” Ulrich said and let out a loud laugh. It took him a bit to recover, and he wiped his right eye. “Aye, it’s good to know my weapons have helped both of you survive.”

  “You should be proud,” Arturo said. He noticed a couple of people not too far away looking a bit annoyed. Clearly, Ulrich was a popular blacksmith. “I trusted no one to look after my weapon.”

  “Not many know how to deal with a sword this large,” Ulrich said. “If you weren’t so strong, this sword would be useless. Tell me, how do you plan on avenging Arindall? I hope it’s not by yourself.”

  “It’s not,” Arturo said with a shake of his head. “I formed my own army and will use them to fight in the war to come.”

  “I heard the raiders were led by Kyrad Durmaddon. Do you believe that?”

  “Yes, I fought him and almost died,” Arturo said.

  “He must be skilled if he nearly killed you.”

  Arturo found himself embarrassed. “I hate to admit that he was,” saying that made him want to yell. His second-greatest failure in life was failing to kill Kyrad. His first was protecting his family. It was by Tarmella’s grace that Jen was alive. He wished his brothers, mother, and father could have survived.

  “Anyway, how long until you finish working on my sword?”

  “Give me a couple of days. I want to make sure it gets done properly and I have a bit more work to do today,” Ulrich said. He looked behind Arturo, at the line that was beginning to build. “This sword of yours may be the best weapon I have ever crafted. It deserves all the love it can get, and nothing would please me more than to know this blade took down Kyrad.”

  “Thank you, I’ll leave you to it then,” Arturo said.

  “I’ll see you in a couple of days,” Ulrich said and turned back to his shop.

  Arturo left and wasn’t surprised that the anger he was feeling earlier was bubbling at the surface. He wanted nothing more than to fight to release his boiled-up rage. Ulrich had lost his son. How many more lives were the Durmaddons going to take before this was done? Too many. It was one more reason to prepare and avenge the fallen.