Over the next few years, I master the art of the Blacksmith, and I slowly take on more responsibility in the shop. I've gained a muscular frame, just like Mo had when I first arrived, from swinging heavy hammers and testing out our weapons for -- quality purposes. My teacher has gotten a bit weaker over time; her frame is slightly thinner than it was before, and her cheeks have started to sink in, but still, she swings that hammer like she's in her prime.

She likes to pretend that I don't notice her changing.

"Good morrow, (Name)!" One of our regulars greets me as he walks through the door way.

I'm in charge of the shop while Mo runs some errands into town.

"Welcome!" I smile, leaning my elbow on the counter, "Here to pick up the Halberd?"

"Of course, I've been looking forward to seeing it all week!"

I nod and walk into the back of the shop, grabbing the black bladed weapon from the wall and walk it back to the front. "Black blade and golden hilt, just as you requested."

He takes it into his hands, examining it, "I love it! Could you just sharpen it a little bit more?"

"Of course, not a problem!" I take the halberd from him and set it down on the table next to the sharpening stone as I tie my apron around my waist. I place the blade against the stone and press the pedal; the stone begins to spin and sparks fly into the dirt below. After it is sharpened to perfection, I bring it back to the customer, "Is it to your liking?"

"It's perfect!"

"That will be 400 gold coins," I tap the counter with a smile.

He nods gratefully and places a pouch of gold on the counter, "Worth every ounce!"

I take the bag and wave as he walks out of the shop, and I begin counting the coins.

A little while later, I hear footsteps walk into the shop, and I look up to see Mo with a bunch of bags in her arms. "He came to pick up the Halberd?" I nod, and she rolls her eyes, "I ran into him in town; he was showing off to his buddies outside the tavern."

I chuckle and continue counting, "He never tries to negotiate pricing, and comes in almost every month for a new weapon. He must be the son of an important man."

"He just knows he's getting what he pays for," Mo shrugs with a mischievous grin, "Not that I've beaten him up in the past for attempting to lowball me or anything."

Over the course of that day, we had many people coming in and out of our little shop, testing out new weapons and bringing us old ones to rehabilitate. During the slow hours, I would bring out a small Blacksmith's guidebook, to further my education. "Hello."

I tear my eyes from the pages to find a man with blue eyes and a big smile, "Hello," I answer, closing the book and setting it aside, "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you could repair this for me," he places a cutlass on the counter, hand behind his head, "I accidentally snapped the handle in half while I was practicing; practically fell apart in my hands!""

I'd never seen this man before; this town was once popular with tourists, but since the ports had been closed down, we don't get visitors often, anymore. "I'm surprised you have one of these in your possession!" I trace my finger across the curved blade, "No one makes them in this area, I've never seen one before!" I beam at him, attempting to get a general location of where he might've picked it up.

This is a pirate's weapon.

"Are they rare to come by?" He leans over the counter with both elbows. "It was a gift from my father."

"It's a gorgeous piece of work."

Something about his demeanor changes as he nods towards the locket around my neck, his voice slow and slightly deeper than before. "So is that necklace. You don't see fine, detailed work like that often in a small town like this. Where did you get it?"

"Oh, this?" I grasp the golden locket in my hand, and stare back at him, "Gift from my father."

We lock eyes for what seems like an eternity, the worldly sounds around us deafened by the sound of our heartbeats. His hand taps the table and he cuts the tension with a smile, "Will you be able to fix it since you've never worked with one?"

"I'm assuming it's the same as any other sword," I respond, hesitantly.

He chuckles, "I'm sure. How much?"

"I can do it for 150 coins."

"That's perfect." He throws a bag of coins on the counter. "When should I come back to pick it up?"

"It shouldn't take me long," I respond, "Not more than a few hours to sculpt a new hilt."

He winks at me as he turns away with a wave, "Looks like I'll be back in a few hours, then!"

I watch his back as he walks out of the shop and disappears around the corner. "Who was that, (Name)?" Mo walks out from her room, hair still dripping from her bath, a cloth around her neck.

I can't break my eyes from the door. "I don't know. I've never seen him before."

"Let me see what he left you," she walks over to me, drying her face with the cloth, "A cutlass? No one this far south has supplied weapons like that in a long time, not since that last raid four years ago."

"... Should we trust him?"

"What pirate would pay to get a weapon restored when they plan on raiding us?" Mo gently hits me upside the head. "We have plenty of items here they could steal in the armory."

That is a good point...

"I was trying to figure out where he got it, but it was apparently a gift from his father."

She shrugs, opening up the pouch he left, "Well, he paid us already, so let's get to work."

A few hours came and went, and we hang the weapon on the display wall as we wait for him to arrive.

He never came.

"He probably went to the tavern and lost track of time," she yells at me from her room, "Stop pacing the hallway and go the hell to sleep!"

"I can't, Mo! Something is wrong, I can feel it."

"I can feel that you're starting to annoy me!" She comes stomping out of her room and tightly grasps my shoulders, "Everything is fine. You need your rest."

I stared directly into her eyes; I no longer had to look up at her. "You're right. I'm probably just in my head."

She places her hand on my back and gently guides me to my room and watches as I climb into bed. "Goodnight, (Name)."

"Goodnight, Mo."

"Don't get out of bed or I'm going to beat your ass," she points at me menacingly before shutting the door.

I turn over and try to get as comfortable as I possibly can, attempting to slow down my thoughts.

Something about him...

... Was wrong.

I attempt to drown out my anxiety with fond memories of my life in my hometown. Eventually, I do drift off to sleep. I see my mother and Nikolaus. I see the two giants that bought him and stole him from me and I see the raider that broke my mother's neck, and those hideous scars, lining his arms like tiger stripes.

But above all... I see Luca.

"This way, (Name)!" Luca laughs, running into the field of flowers. We had just arrived in the village a few days prior, and a little village boy, a year or two older than me, would not leave me alone until I went to visit the giant Flower Garden. I grasp my dress, darting my gaze from him, to the flowers. He stops twirling in the flowers and walks back to me, "What's wrong?"

"I-I don't like bugs," I point at the little creatures flying around the field.

"Bugs?" He turns to look where I'm pointing, and he chuckles, "Those are just butterflies, silly, they aren't going to hurt you." He takes hold of my hand and gently begins pulling me into the flowers. Reluctantly, I walk with him, the petals and stems tickling my legs. The narrow path leads us to a small clearing, complete with a bench and a tree for shade. Luca sits me down, and takes the spot next to me, holding his finger out.

I raise my eyebrow at him, "... What are you doing?"

"Just wait," he whispers, and eventually, a butterfly lands on his finger. My breath hitches in my throat, and he rests his other hand on mine with a nod. "Here, you take it." He lifts my hand and stretches my pointer finger out, all while I have my head turned away with my eyes clenched shut. I feel the butterfly crawl onto my finger, the feeling of it's little feet sending shivers down my spine. "Open your eyes."

I peek my eye open, and see the little thing staring back at me, slowly flapping it's wings. "It's beautiful," I gasp slightly. The blue of it's wings was absolutely stunning.

"Majestic, aren't they?" I turn and see Luca smiling at me gently; that was the first time I saw that face I'd grow so used to. "They are care-free creatures, able to soar into the sky and leave whenever they please." As if on cue, the butterfly jumps into the air, flapping it's wings as it rejoins the others floating in the flowers. "I want to get out of here too."

"What do you mean? It's so peaceful here in this little village."

"There's so much of this world I want to see!" He is beaming with wonder as he stretches his hands toward the sky. "I want to see how far the ocean goes, I want to see real pirates get drunk in taverns," he grasps my hands tightly, "Someone told me once that there was an even bigger field of flowers across the ocean somewhere; they stretch farther than the eye can see!"

"That sounds amazing!"

"Will you come with me?"

"What?"

His green eyes show me that gaze again. "Come with me."

"Of course I'll go with you!"

He gently presses his forehead to mine and closes his eyes. "You need to wake up now."

I pull away sharply, "Luca...?"

Tears stream down his cheeks as he smiles at me, sadly. "Wake up."

I jolt upright in my bed to the sound of sirens blaring in the night. I rush out of my room, without uttering a word, and into the armory to find Mo strapping her boots on. "Get dressed and grab a weapon. Protect the shop."

"What's going on?" I scream. I had never heard these ear piercing sirens in my time here.

"Raiders." She secures a bullwhip to her belt and fastens a rapier to her side before she pushes passed me, out of the house and into the night. I hurriedly get my clothes on and grab a sword and a small dagger, stuffing it into my boot. I peek out of the front doorway, listening to the distant sound of clanging swords and gunshots.

I shrink back into the shop, pacing around the room.

"It's good as new! Love the branding sigil, is it an original?" A voice calls. I ready my sword as I turn to the door. "Behind you." I jump around the find the man from before, staring at his cutlass in awe, giving it a few powerful practice swings.

"I knew there was something wrong about you!" I run at him, swinging my sword. He slips back and attacks with a push cut right over my eyebrow, and blood begins to drip down my face and into my eyes. "Who are you?!"

He swings his sword in a downward strike and I catch his weapon with the rain-guard of my sword, my blade just barely grazing his face. His eyes open wide for a moment before he grunts and pushes me away. "Oh, so you're a fighter?" He screams at me mockingly, pointing his sword at me.

"Who are you?" I repeat as I gather myself into a guarding stance.

"They call me the Quarter Master," he responds with a crazed look in his eye. "And you must be the Princess."

Princess?

He notices my break in concentration and begins to close the distance between us. I hurriedly ready my sword for an upward swipe, to which he counters with a downward swing and catches my sword, much like I did to him just moments before.

He's learning my fighting style!

I swing my blade around to swipe from below his sword, and just as quickly he catches it again. "You are good," he whispers through clenched teeth, "just not good enough." The stance we were trapped in left both of our stomachs unprotected and his reflexes are much faster than mine; he kicks me in the gut and sends me crashing backwards to the floor. I writhe in the dirt clutching my stomach with one hand, fighting to get the air back into my lungs. He twirls his cutlass in his hands as he waltzes closer to me. "Your work on my hilt is pretty good, i'll give you that, but your swordsmanship could use some work." He steps on my other wrist and pulls the weapon from my grasp. Once again, I find myself with a sword at my throat. "You are a lot more feisty than I expected. This has been pretty fun, but it's time to bring you back."

"This is what I get for using a sword," I growl and toss a handful of dirt into his eyes.

He turns away from me sharply, stumbling to the counter. "You bitch!"

My eyes dart to the armory where my axe is, and back to my attacker.

If I wander too far, he'll escape— the sword will have to do.

I roll over and grab the blade and jump to face the man with the sword at my side, but he is nowhere to be found. I steady my breathing and close my eyes, heightening my hearing to attempt to locate him, and hear a quiet shuffle across the room in the hallway by our bedrooms.

There you are.

As I make my to the hallway, the man runs out of the dark and attacks me, the whites of his blue eyes bloodshot from the dirt. "You'll die for that!" His sword drags in the dirt below, stirring up the dust as he runs at me. He goes to jab at my stomach, but falls slightly short.

Now's my chance!

I swing my sword in a backwards circle from my right side to my left, avoiding his blade and striking him over his right shoulder. He winces in pain, and I take the opportunity to kick the sword out of his hand and push him to the ground.

For once, my sword was at someone's neck.

He crawls himself into a corner, staring up at me. I've never seen such fear and disgust in someone's eyes before. "Last chance, bastard," I snarl at him, "Who the fuck are you?"

He chuckles darkly as lowers his gaze until I lose sight of his eyes under his hair. "I already told you, girl," he bellows as I feel someone hit me in the head. My vision spins as I fall to the ground, but I can still see the man leaning against the wall, blood gushing from his shoulder. He cocks his head to the side menacingly, a sick, twisted smile adorning his face.

"I'm the Quarter Master."