Chương 90: Chapter 25

"Funny thing," Shaya started, facing her old boss, "the further I've advanced, the more I've come to realize that nobles and criminals aren't all that different." Zymish snorted as he rose to his full height and turned to face her.

"Ah, I knew you'd come crawling back," he chuckled.

"Fine, fine, you don't have to beg. You can strong arm for me again, but don't expect higher pay just cuz you've gone and gotten real training, equipment, and become a mage or anything." Shaya laughed.

"I missed you too, Zymish."

"Good to see you made it," he said as the two shared a quick embrace.

"When have my plans ever gone awry?" she asked, patting him on the back and surreptitiously checking him for concealed weapons.

"Given that you're only carrying one dagger," he replied with a smirk as he stepped back, "I'm guessing they go awry less often these days."

"Let's not forget I'm a mage here. Besides, I'll take a dagger over those sticks you have," she retorted.

"It sounds like Jericho's on the rise, I would've expected his favoured enforcer to get a sword by now." He grunted as he crossed his arms and looked down at her.

"Swords are for fancy nobles and their duels, I'll take a proper baton any day for proper brawls. Nothing puts down up-starts faster and with less of a mess. Besides, I did upgrade—they're weighted with lead and iron-shod now."

"Sure," Shaya grinned.

"I bet your preference has nothing to do with your shoddy footwork or poor grappling skills."

"Throne above," Zymish groaned.

"I forgot how much I appreciated the peace and quiet after you left. How has life not slapped that mouth off you yet?"

"You would know better than most how hard it's tried," she replied, smile slipping as she leaned against the railing.

"Things look good here. Cleaned up, secure. People seem happy. I guess Jericho achieved his vision for a peaceful, united Blight."

"He's getting there, anyway," Zymish replied as he relaxed against the railing again.

"You dropped a small fortune in his lap the day you left, at least once he figured out a way to fence the goods. It was the start he needed to get here." The big man gestured at the sturdy boardwalks and stable buildings around them.

"We no longer call it The Blight, by the way."

"Good. It deserves better now."

"How about you?" The big man turned his head to look at her again.

"I hope you don't have to make much use of the grappling skills or knife-work that I taught you."

"Nah, my arms master beat those skills out of me until they became something usable. The dirty fighting though, those lessons I kept." Zymish laughed.

"Well, I'm glad I was of some use to you then. So, what brings you back here?"

"The strong liquor," she retorted, then raised her hands when Zymish scowled at her.

"No, I'm serious! The upper layers don't serve anything hard enough to give my friend and I a buzz."

"Mhmm," he replied, still watching her.

"And all the other nights you snuck around here, asking questions?"

"I wanted to know what happened to everyone," she sighed.

"And when I heard the rioters chanting Jericho's name, I wanted to know what had changed. If he was in control, or if someone else was influencing him."

"Don't worry about Jericho," Zymish said.

"He's still as idealistic as gang leaders come. The riots were going to happen anyway, he just organized them to minimize the chaos and destruction. And not because he wanted power," he continued quickly, "but because it didn't seem fair that fat merchants and nobles got to hoard food while so many people down here starved." Shaya nodded, then twisted in a blur to catch a calloused hand reaching for her dagger.

"Ow!" a high-pitched voice squeaked as Shaya raised her would-be thief off the ground.

"Prosperity is making your pickpockets sloppy," Shaya chided.

"I'm not a thi—!" the girl cut off as she looked up at Shaya's face. Shaya's eyes widened as she looked down at the girl's fox-like features and recognized her. It was the girl she had saved years ago, triggering her Awakening and starting her down the path to be a Warmage.

"It's you," the girl said, awe in her voice, as Shaya lowered her back to the ground.

"You're back."

"I am," Shaya said, rubbing the back of her head.

"You look good, so I'm guessing you're usually better at picking your marks."

"I'm not a thief," the girl retorted with a glower.

"I'm a smith… or I want to be."

"Oh?" Shaya asked, eyebrow raised. She appraised the girl again, noting the lithe muscles of her arms and the calluses in a new light. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Thin for a smith, she thought, but she might have been hit hard by the food shortages…

"Yeah. When you said you were a mage, I figured you'd have bronze on you." The girl blushed as she diverted her eyes from Shaya's.

"I've only worked on iron barrel rungs and fishhooks, but I want to become a bladesmith."

"Admirable," Shaya replied with a smile.

"I know the feeling of progress taking too long, even in smithing."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah, but I trust my master has my best interests at heart. If he says I'm not ready for something, I believe him."

"Sounds like you have a better master than me," the girl whined.

"Mine knows I'm better than him and he's trying to hold me back. He wouldn't be able to hammer a straight edge if his life depended on it, so he takes credit for all my work."

"This is Theris, by the way. I figured you two might like to meet again," Zymish chimed in.

"And she's not exaggerating, she's probably the only reason we're able to keep up with demand for shipping containers here." Theris' nose wrinkled.

"I don't want to keep making boring stuff. I want to work at a real forge!"

"I might be able to help with that," Shaya said, stroking her chin.

"But I can't make any promises."

"Really?" Theris gasped.

"I'd owe you… well, I already owe you my life, but you know." Shaya shrugged.

"Don't worry about it and don't get your hopes up too high. I might be able to get you an interview, but you'll have to handle the rest."

"Don't worry about me." The girl raised her chin with pride.

"My work will pass any test. Though… I haven't worked any bronze, or anything but wrought iron."

"Here," Shaya said, flicking her wrist to release a stiletto into her hand before passing it over to Theris.

"Don't melt it down or anything, but that should give you something to study in terms of dimensions, weight, and balance." The girl's eyes grew huge as she looked down at the stiletto. Shaya shot a quirked eyebrow at Zymish, who failed to hide his surprise.

"You're getting rusty," she whispered.

"Don't give me that look," he whispered back.

"I don't personally frisk people anymore; I have staff for that."

"Throne above, protect me from promotions."

"Thank you," Theris whispered as her awe faded and she finished examining the stiletto with clear eyes.

"I won't let you down."

"I know." Shaya grinned down at her.

"Anyone crazy enough to come to my help when a shark-bear monster is attacking me is good in my books."

"Aye, you're kindred spirits." Zymish snorted.

"Right pains in my arse."

"Someone has to keep you on your toes," Theris jumped in, Shaya smiling as someone beat her to the punch.

"Alright, I need to get back in there before anyone notices I'm gone," Shaya said.

"But I'll be back when I have word, one way or another." Theris nodded, still holding the stiletto in two hands.

"Shaya," Zymish said, catching her forearm, "you need to stop asking after Jericho. You're not the only one looking for him, and you don't want to get caught up in that."

"Thanks for the warning, boss."

"Don't ignore this one," he replied with narrowed eyes and a tone that suggested he meant it. +++++ Thunk. Shaya's thrown knife thrummed as it wobbled in the dead centre of the bull's-eye.

"Looks like you win again," Ren said with a shrug.

"And here I thought I could really take you." Shaya was disappointed. The bartender had given her a balanced set of throwing knives, which she had given to Ren in an attempt to draw out more of his actual skills. But whatever he and Samorn had talked about apparently included revealing nothing further, since his aim was worse with the balanced knives than it had been with the shoddy ones.

"Here you go," he continued, dropping a few silver coins into her hand.

"Thanks," she replied drily, but Ren's attention was already scanning the crowd of new students that entered the tavern. Samorn sent an imperceptible nod to Ren, and he started tracking one of the newcomers—a curvaceous beauty with copper hair. He left Shaya behind without a second glance, taking the long way around to get to the woman rather than a direct path. His target and a few of the other students around her waved at Samorn, who returned it with a polite smile.

Shaya wasn't sure what she had managed to catch onto, but curiosity got the better of her as she returned to the table where her friends sat.

"Friends of yours?" she asked Samorn as she eased into a chair.

"Colleagues," Samorn answered, turning ice blue eyes to Shaya.

"Azurite mages, especially enchanters and illusionists, are encouraged to get to know a variety of people and hone our skills with them, all the better to affect people with our magic."

"Sounds like a fun assignment," Shaya said, watching as the new group of students split apart to flirt and mingle with the tavern's inhabitants. Some struck up conversations with merchants, others tried to ingratiate themselves amongst stone-cold mercenaries, and the woman Ren had set his eyes on chatted up a male courtesan that was otherwise engaged with a different patron.

"Depends on the assignment," Samorn added.

"I dunno," Shaya continued.

"My assignments tend to be 'don't get blown up,' 'don't let that guy get necrotized,' or 'blow up that thing over there."

"The grass is always greener on the other side, as they say." Samorn smiled.

"Personally, blowing stuff up doesn't sound too bad and protecting another person at least doesn't offend anyone in practice." One of the students' efforts were rebuffed by a curt mercenary, the student backing away from the group with hands raised apologetically until the mercenaries moved hands away from their swords. Nonplussed by the hostile rejection, the young man moved onto another group at the tavern, chin high, as if nothing had happened.

Shaking her head, Shaya looked at the Azurite mages with some newfound respect. She doubted she could have disengaged from that social encounter with half as much grace as the student had, and there was no way she'd still be walking tall toward another group.

"You know what? I think you're right, Samorn."

"Aren't I always?"

"Did you know they call me arrogant?" Shaya asked.

"They called me lazy and unfocused," Samorn chuckled.

"I just have a lot of lost time to make up for."

"I don't think I'd remotely recognize your younger self, Samorn."

"No, you wouldn't," her friend replied with a smile.