12. Almost a Faux Pas

I had to hurry. It was almost four o’clock, and I had quite underestimated how long it would take to choose the wood for my wand and to find it as well.

I arrived at the pottery breathless.
“I was beginning to think you’d forgotten your cup was finished today,” Mira greeted me with a smile.
I explained my delay and she nodded.
“Your wand, like your sword and your cup, is an important tool. You were right to take your time. But come along now. Your cup is ready.”

On a wooden table stood my cup. Simple, yet beautiful, glazed in soft blue. I would never have managed it without Mira’s help, but still, I felt proud. I lifted it carefully, turning it in my hands. It was perfect as it was and I rather liked the colour, too.

“Take good care of it,” said Mira. “The first cup is always special. Here, take this cloth and this pouch. They’ll keep it safe while you travel.”
I wrapped the cup gently in the cloth and placed it inside the soft leather pouch.

I hugged Mira and thanked her warmly.
“It was a pleasure,” she said, smiling. “One more thing. You may not have noticed the spiral at the bottom. When you wish to explore your feelings, trace the spiral with your finger. Focus on what it is you wish to understand, where your feelings come from, or how to deal with them. Then fill the cup with water and drink. But never try to learn anything about another person’s feelings. Do that even once, and the magic will fade. The cup will become nothing more than an ordinary vessel. I placed the spiral underneath on purpose. There’s no need for everyone to see that it’s enchanted.”

We said our goodbyes. I slung the pouch over my shoulder and slipped my wand inside as well.

There was still some time before supper, so I took a walk through the city.

Socks kept darting off between the market stalls, but I didn’t worry. He had grown up here, after all, and knew his way around far better than I did. I only hoped he wouldn’t come back smelling too much of his adventures. He liked sleeping on my bed, and I wasn’t too keen on sharing it with a musty cat.

My feet, or perhaps my intuition, led me to a beautiful temple of white stone. It reminded me a little of a Greek temple, though the domed roof puzzled me. In front of it stood a fountain, the water splashing gently.

The place was calm and peaceful, filled with quiet light. There were few people about; it was late afternoon, and perhaps most were already on their way home to prepare for supper.

I dipped my hand into the water. It was delightfully cool.

My feet were sore, and I couldn’t resist. I sat on the edge of the fountain, slipped off my shoes and was just about to dip my toes in when I heard someone clear his throat behind me.

I turned. An elderly man was looking at me rather sternly.

“You’re not thinking of washing your feet in the sacred water, are you?”
“Sacred?” I asked. “Why is the water sacred? I’ve seen people in town washing at fountains or filling their cups to drink. Some even rinse their laundry in them. What makes this one so special?”

“You’re not from here, are you? Otherwise you’d know you’re standing before the High Priestess’s Temple. This fountain is consecrated. Nothing and no one may use or defile its water. It may only be drawn during the festivals of the Wheel of the Year.”

“Oh, I see,” I said quickly. “You’re right. I’m not from here, and I truly didn’t know. I’m sorry. Of course I’ll respect that.”

“You have no temple of the High Priestess where you come from?” he asked in surprise.
“No,” I said, “I come from very far away.”
I had no desire to explain more, not who I was, nor that I came from the Outside World. He shook his head, probably taking me for the most ignorant person in all of Tarcania. Still, he seemed content with my answer and asked no further questions.

“Keep your feet out of the water, and don’t touch it with your hands,” he warned before walking away.

I sighed and pulled my shoes back on. Where was Socks? He could have warned me instead of wandering off. I had nearly broken a taboo without even knowing it.

Inwardly, I scolded him: Socks, where are you hiding?

Right on cue, the little cat appeared.
“Oh, you’ve found the High Priestess’s Temple,” he said smugly. “Careful, the water’s sacred. You mustn’t touch it.”
“No, really?” I snapped. “I nearly did, and a man just stopped me in time. If you hadn’t been off on one of your escapades, I wouldn’t have made such a fool of myself.”
“Nothing happened,” Socks replied, half reproachful, half bored. “Don’t be so dramatic. I’m a cat, I need my freedom. I’m your familiar, not your nursemaid. Now, let’s get back to the Guild. I’m starving.”

Honestly, did that cat think of nothing but himself and food?

I stood up, still a little cross, though I had to admit I was hungry too. We walked back together in silence, and for once, Socks stayed by my side.

After a calm and rather pleasant supper, I said my goodnights and returned to my room.

Of course I wanted to try the cup. I needed to know what I truly felt about Tarcania. On one hand, I found this new world utterly fascinating. On the other, I was afraid of failing, of not being good enough for whatever was expected of the Chosen One. I didn’t even know what those expectations were, but there was still that uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I traced the spiral with my finger and asked inwardly, “What do I feel for Tarcania?” Then I filled the cup with water and, almost instinctively, repeated the question several times. With the last repetition, I drank and closed my eyes.

A quiet voice within me whispered,
“Tarcania is the lost home of your soul. You have forgotten, but you will remember. Learn, and you will come to love Tarcania again — as Tarcania loves you. There will be moments of doubt, moments of fear, anger or pain. That is part of the path. But you are loved and protected, whatever may come.

And Tarot will be your compass on your journey, through Tarcania, and through your own heart.”

The voice faded, and I felt tears on my cheeks.
I made a silent promise to trust.
To trust fate, and above all, to trust myself.

11: Wood is not just wood

Something tickled my face and woke me up. I opened my eyes and looked straight into two green cat eyes. Something tickled my face — Socks’s whiskers. I opened my eyes to find him watching me with an accusing look.
“You’re quite the sleepyhead, Bobbie von Falkenstein! Instead of lazing around in bed, you should get up, feed me, and then think about your next tasks. You still need the wand and the money. You can collect your cup today. At least you’ve got today and tomorrow left — even you should manage that!”
Before I could answer, he jumped off me.

I got ready quickly and hurried to the dining hall with Socks. The last thing I needed was a grumpy familiar.

I got there earlier than yesterday; the pages were already gathered around the round table. The mood was more relaxed than the previous evening. The pages, and especially Cal, seemed more at ease with my presence.

Trisha smiled warmly at me. “Good morning, Bobbie. Please don’t take it the wrong way that we didn’t greet you properly before. There have always been only four pages taught personally by Leonora. The Outside World was always a legend to us, a tale for children. And then you appear and tell us it’s all true. That sort of thing can turn one’s whole worldview upside down. I hope we can forget our awkward start and become friends.”
She raised her goblet with a smile, as did Sereina and Amir. With a forced smile, Cal reluctantly lifted his too, and we clinked goblets.

I felt relieved and happy that the pages had made the first move. I wondered whether Leonora had something to do with it, but honestly, I didn’t care. I’ve always found it hard when the mood turns cold, and we’d have to find a way to get along.

Cal? I still couldn’t warm to him, but after what Sereina had told me last night, I could at least understand him a little better.

In his deep voice, Amir asked about my plans. I told him I’d started working on my cup yesterday and still needed a wand and earn some coins.
“You’ll have to decide what kind of wood your wand will be made from,” Sereina said.
“Why does that matter?” I asked. “Isn’t wood just… wood?”
Cal’s mouth twisted into a mocking grin, but before he could say anything, Sereina cut him off.
“No, it’s not the same. Different kinds of wood hold different kinds of magic. But of course, you couldn’t know that. Come to the library after breakfast. I’ll show you some books that can help you decide. We don’t have time to explain it all now, though; we have a lesson soon.. Trisha, please tell Archon Meridis I’ll be a bit late.”

I hurried through my breakfast so Sereina wouldn’t lose too much time. We walked briskly to the library, curiosity already tingling inside me. The library back in Falkenstein had always been my favourite place. I loved the scent of old books and worn leather chairs..

When we entered the library, I was overwhelmed. I had never seen so many books in one place. The shelves reached all the way up to the ceiling, with tables in the centre covered in open tomes and benches for reading. And that was only the entrance hall. The library stretched on endlessly, room after room. What a treasure trove of knowledge!

Sereina showed me the section on natural magic and pulled a few books from the shelves, handing them to me.
“Here you’ll find everything you need to know about the different kinds of wood. It’ll help you decide which tree to ask for your wand. Don’t forget an offering for the dryads, the tree spirits. Fruit and flowers are appropriate. And perhaps you could sing them a song.”
I grinned. “That would be more punishment than offering.”
Sereina laughed. “It’s the intention that counts. Gratitude matters more than pitch. Oh, and before I forget: as the Chosen One, you have access to all the books, but many of them won’t make sense to you yet. They hold advanced teachings. Don’t be discouraged; they don’t make sense to us pages either. And one more thing: in each of the kingdom sections you’ll see portals. Don’t step through them. They lead to the respective realms, and it’s forbidden to use them until we finish our basic training.”

Of course, that only made me more curious, but I promised to behave and carried the heavy books to a table.
“When you close a book, that means you’re done. It’ll be taken away automatically. If you’re still working with one, leave it open.”
With that final instruction, she dashed off to class, leaving me alone.

No one else was in the library. Everyone was probably in lessons. Fine by me.
“I’ll go for a little wander,” Socks meowed and disappeared. I wondered if he could read. It honestly wouldn’t have surprised me.

I sat down on a bench and opened the first book.

Completely absorbed in the magic of trees, I lost track of time until something jabbed sharply against my shin.

Socks was back from exploring, wearing his classic I’m-about-to-starve look. I realised I was starving too. Leaving the books open, I headed for the dining hall.

After a quick meal, I returned to the library. I had taken three apples from the fruit bowl as an offering . Better not anger the dryads.

I delved back into my studies, torn between several trees and struggling to decide.

For protection and banishing spells, oak would be an excellent choice. It stands for strength, endurance, justice, and stability. But I also read that oak wands are best suited for experienced wielders, too powerful for a beginner like me, even though I’ve always loved the old oaks back home in Falkenstein..

Yew, too, was a mighty tree, carrying the magic of transformation and rebirth. Yet its poisonous nature and connection to death and the underworld made me uneasy.

The apple tree, I read, has long been linked to the Otherworld, love, and immortality.I remembered the Arthurian tales I used to love as a child, the apple trees of Avalon that granted eternal life. One book said the apple tree’s energy was gentle, nurturing and harmonising, ideal for healing, love, fertility, creativity, blessings and rites of passage. Not bad at all.

Then I read about the hazel. The tree of wisdom and inspiration. It bridges intuition, vision, and knowledge, guarding against harmful forces. Hazel aids divination, protects against curses and lightning, grants luck and strength, and helps fulfil wishes. Its energy is said to be light, quick and full of movement, promoting clarity of mind and connecting people to their inner voice. Hazel reveals hidden connections.
That was it. My decision was made.

I closed the books and right on cue, Socks appeared out of nowhere.

I remembered seeing some hazel bushes near the forge, so we set off that way.

We didn’t walk long before finding them. I had Hephon’s dagger with me and hoped it wouldn’t harm the hazel too much. Just as the books had described, I closed my eyes and asked the dryads for a sign, which bush, which branch I could take with humility. Quietly, I began to sing an old song from Falkenstein, hoping it was the intention that mattered, not the tune.

Suddenly, I heard a bird sing. I opened my eyes and saw a bird perched on a branch. When it noticed me, it flew away. I took that as the sign. With one strong cut, I severed a thumb-thick branch and trimmed it to the length of my forearm. Then I gave thanks, placed the apples beneath the bush, and poured a bit of water from my flask onto the roots.

A whisper stirred in the leaves. The dryads seemed content. One more task complete.

I would still have to shape the wand, of course, but first, I needed to visit Mira and collect my cup.

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10. An insightful conversation in the park

We arrived just in time at sunset in the dining hall. All the pages were already seated at the table, chatting animatedly. When they saw me, the conversations fell silent. I felt like an outsider, and only Sereina gave me an encouraging smile. Apparently, Cal had already created a sense of unease towards me. Last night, I had the impression that Amir and Trisha were curious, but today they seemed a bit colder.

I sat down on my chair and Socks jumped onto my lap. Cal noticed this with a disapproving sigh but said nothing. Elara appeared, and I ordered chicken again for Socks and asked for bread and cheese for myself.

It had been a long day, and I thought I would be hungrier, but the chilly atmosphere at the table weighed on my stomach more than I had expected.

Slowly, the conversations picked up again, and the pages talked about their day, which had been filled with sword-fighting training and studies. How was I supposed to catch up on all that knowledge? I didn’t even have the slightest clue about Tarcania, hardly any understanding of Tarot, and who knows what else I still needed to learn. Yes, Leonora had mentioned something about training once my equipment was complete, and then there was the announced journey through Tarcania. I felt overwhelmed and drained, lost in my thoughts, and chewed my bread rather listlessly.

As exciting as I had found Tarcania upon my arrival, now I felt a leaden heaviness. I really just wanted to go home, but that was impossible at the moment. I had to accept my situation and fulfil my task here, whatever that was supposed to be. I wouldn’t be going home before that—Leonora had made that perfectly clear. And somehow, I would have to get along with the other pages. I wondered which challenge would be greater.

When I finally finished, everyone but Sereina had already gone.

“Come on, let’s find a quiet place, and I’ll tell you a bit about the kingdoms and the pages, so you understand us a little better.” Sereina stood up and pulled me along. I really didn’t feel like talking, but she was always kind to me, and I didn’t want to make her feel bad. So I went with her.

We walked silently through winding corridors and arcades until we reached a pavilion in a park. It was round, covered in ivy, and looked very enchanting. I was about to head towards it, but Sereina laughed and pulled me away. “No, we definitely wouldn’t find peace there, as it’s a popular meeting spot for couples—even from the town—if they’re brave enough to venture onto the guild’s railing.”

A few minutes later, we came to a small fountain. The water tinkled happily into the stone basin, and next to it was a stone bench. “Here we have some peace, and with the sound of the water, it’s hard to hear what I’m going to tell you. Don’t worry, I’m not going to reveal any secrets, but not everyone needs to know you don’t know much about us yet.” Sereina sat down, and I took a seat beside her. It couldn’t hurt…

“As you’ve probably gathered by now, Tarcania consists of the city of Tarcania, where we are right now, and the four kingdoms. Tarcania technically has a city government, but the real power lies with the Guild and therefore with Leonora as Guild Mistress, along with the Archons and Archonesses. They are the heads of the respective faculties. You’ll surely meet some of them during your training, depending on what Leonora deems necessary. She herself, as Guild Master, is the Archoness of Tarot.

I think you’ll probably also get to know Enar, the Archon of Elements, Meridis, the Archon of Numerology, and Thaela, the Archoness of the History of the Tarocciari.

Then there’s Lysar, the Archon of Astrology, Isera, the Archoness of Nature Magic, Tharon, the Archon of Ceremonial Magic, Myrella, the Archoness of Herbalism, and a few other side areas like Symbolism, Mysticism and so on. But these are fields that aren’t even open to the knights yet—only to the queens and kings of the kingdoms.

By the way, Lysar acts as Leonora’s representative when she is travelling or takes time away for several weeks for her studies. Tarot isn’t knowledge you just acquire overnight. It takes a lot of time to master the cards, to feel them, to experience them and to internalise them. You’ll learn the basic principles quickly, just like the foundations of the other areas, but it requires a long study to truly understand them.”

I sighed — me and my memory for names, and these names were anything but easy to remember. Sereina grinned. “You’ll manage it. Depending on which kingdom we come from, these names can be unusual for us too.”

But before we go to bed, I want to tell you a bit more about the four kingdoms and the pages.

We pages stand at the very bottom of the court hierarchy. Above us are the knights, then the queens and kings. Even though we all have royal blood, we have hardly any privileges in the Guild. The only ones are that we have our own table, are taught directly by the Archons, and after our training, travel through all the kingdoms. As you’ve seen, other talented young women and men are also taught in the Guild. After their basic training, they specialise. We, on the other hand, have to learn much more.

“Aha, I see,” I interrupted, “that’s why Cal is annoyed. I’m just an ordinary young woman, not from any royal house but from the Outside World, and I’m supposed to be the chosen one as well. Leonora seats me at your table and he feels somehow threatened or challenged.” Sereina nodded. “Exactly. Some pages put a lot of stock in their origins and see themselves as better than others. But that’s not the spirit of Tarcania. I’m sure Cal will respect you in time, and the other two, Amir and Trisha, are new here too. They’re still easily influenced and stick to what’s familiar. Don’t blame them.” I shook my head.

“Let me tell you a little about the kingdoms so you can get a small overview,” she continued. “To the east lies Sapiaria with its capital Vindgard. What’s special is that some places are on flying islands. But most of the country is quite mountainous and a cool wind blows constantly. Some peaks are covered with snow and ice all year round. That naturally affects the people. They are very clear-headed, very direct, very honest, very logical, and sometimes a bit arrogant. They are the thinkers of Tarcania, and if you start debating with them, you really need to be well prepared, or else they’ll take you down like a scorpion that strikes fast and precise. It’s not easy to win them over, but you’ve probably noticed that already.”

I grinned but thought to myself that Sapiaria probably wouldn’t be my preferred kingdom. I didn’t like mountains or snow. That was one of the few things about my beloved Falkenstein I didn’t really like, either.

To the south lies Salahara, with the capital Saffirah. It’s hot, dusty, and much of the land is desert or steppe. The people there are very passionate but also quick to anger. They love their freedom and adventure. Sometimes they act faster than they think and get easily excited. But just as quickly, their enthusiasm often fades, and they move on to something new that challenges them and captures their attention for the moment. Many warriors come from Salahara, but also many smiths, metalworker and toolmakers, because fire is their element. You’ve already met Hephon, the blacksmith. He comes from a small village near the capital.

To the west lies Reviria, with the capital Neralis. It’s beautiful there, and most places are by lagoons or rivers. Many of our poets, painters, singers, musicians, and other artists call it home. You can lose track of time in Reviria when you sit by the sea watching the sunset or bathe in one of the spring pools. The people are very friendly, very empathetic, and sometimes that makes me feel a little uncomfortable. I always have the feeling they look into my soul and know more than I want to show. But if you want to find yourself and don’t prefer the rugged mountains of Sapiaria, then Reviria is a perfect place.

I come from the kingdom in the north, Crescendoria, and our capital is named  Dunvara.” Sereina’s eyes began to shine as she spoke of her homeland. “It’s a green land with many forests and small villages surrounded by fertile fields. We are the granary of Tarcania and supply it to a large extent. Some see us only as simple farmers, but they love our breads, the meat of our cattle, and the beautiful flowers that decorate their halls. We are reserved and get to know you first before we open up. But once you have won our hearts, you have the most loyal friends you can imagine. We take our time for what really matters but also let things take their time, because everything has its time.

I think that’s enough for now, Bobbie. If you have questions, you can always come to me. I’m here for you.” Sereina hugged me warmly, and I was sure I had truly found a friend in her.

By now it was dark and cool. We returned quickly to the main building where our paths parted as we went to our bedrooms.

What a day it’s been! I washed quickly before sinking tiredly into bed and felt Socks curl up against my back as I fell asleep.

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09: The Cup

The midday hour had already passed when I left Hephon and made my way to the pottery.

Of course, Socks knew this route as well and led me through the alleys of Tarcania to the craftsmen’s district. Except for the tanners, most of the workshops were here. As I passed by, I heard the hammering of shoemakers and coopers, the clatter of looms, the rattling of rope winches, and other sounds I couldn’t quite place. It felt like a journey back in time because many of these crafts were still alive here but I only knew them from history lessons.

The smell of fresh bread wafted up to my nose, and I realised how hungry I was. I still had a little money Marcus had given me and quickly bought a slice of bread thickly spread with an herb paste. The bread was still warm, and the herbs smelled like Southern France, which I loved so much. Would I ever see the soft light of Provence again?

Before I could get too melancholic, I had to hurry to keep Socks in sight, as he wasn’t about to wait for me. Why should he? After all, he was a cat and knew his way around, while I would have easily gotten lost in this maze.

I followed him with long strides; although he was still small, he was pretty fast. I entered the workshop and saw three men sitting at pottery wheels. They were so focused on their work that they didn’t notice me at all. I watched them skillfully shaping cups and carafes from lumps of clay. There was something magical about how vessels seemed to emerge from nothing.

The walls were covered with shelves holding finished, fired, and glazed bowls, cups, plates, wine carafes, and jugs. Most were simply coloured in earthy tones, but there were also beautifully decorated pieces with intricate patterns.

I guessed that the oldest man must be the master and addressed him.

I cleared my throat to make myself noticed. “Hello, I’m Bobbie, and Leonora sent me to make my cup here.” The men looked up, and the oldest among them nodded towards the back. Only then did I notice a middle-aged woman sorting vessels to pack them in wood wool and place them in a crate.

“Ah, hello Bobbie, I’m Mira, the master of this workshop,” she greeted me. I felt my face flush.

I considered myself progressive—I had learned to fly myself—and automatically assumed a man would run the workshop. I was so embarrassed and stammered an apology. Mira smiled warmly and said, “You don’t need to feel bad about that; it happens to many because even in Tarcania we’re not yet at the point where it’s normal for women to run a business or even be guild masters. Leonora does a lot for that, but what has settled in minds over many centuries doesn’t change overnight. It seems it’s similar in your homeland.” I nodded sheepishly, and Mira hugged me warmly.

“I expected you earlier because Leonora didn’t give you much time.”
“Yes, the visit to Hephon and choosing my sword took a while,” I replied.

Mira smiled and led me to a potter’s wheel. “Have a seat. Have you ever done pottery before?” I shook my head. I knew my task was to make a cup, but how was I supposed to manage that?

I sighed. I wasn’t the kind of woman to get discouraged quickly. My travels, flying—it hadn’t come easy either. I had to fight for recognition and acceptance. But that was back home, in my world. Even though I was used to adapting quickly to foreign cultures, especially while travelling, this wasn’t just another world like Tarcania. I felt overwhelmed, and this wouldn’t be the last time I’d feel lost in Tarcania.

Mira seemed to sense my thoughts. “Come on, we’ll do this together. Your hands will shape the cup, but I will guide them. But first, you have to knead the clay.” She winked at me, and I felt renewed courage.

I dipped my hands into the water beside the wheel, took the lump of clay between my hands, and began kneading it. It reminded me of my childhood when I baked cookies with my mother at Christmas. I was allowed to help her, and I could remember her slender hands shaping the dough into a ball from the shapeless mass.

It didn’t take long before the clay was soft and pliable. I shaped a smooth ball and placed it in the centre of the potter’s wheel. I sat down, Mira behind me, and I began to turn the wheel using the pedal.

“Good, make sure the speed stays consistent. Find your rhythm and keep it. And by the way, that doesn’t just apply to pottery,” Mira grinned.

I placed my hands around the clay ball, and Mira’s hands enveloped mine. “Press the clay with both hands to centre it. Keep the pressure even as you move the clay up and down. This will create a small, thick column.” I followed her instructions and let her hands guide mine.

“Now press a thumb into the centre of the clay lump to make a hollow. Hold the bottom of the clay with your left hand and pull upwards with your other hand to shape the walls of the cup.” As Mira told me what to do, her hands guided mine, and slowly but surely, a cup began to take shape.

I dipped my hands into the water repeatedly to keep the clay smooth and supple.

Once it reached a comfortable height, we smoothed the rim, and I slowly stopped the wheel.

“You did very well, my dear,” Mira praised me. I smiled, knowing that without her help, the result would have barely resembled a drinking vessel. “Thank you so much for your support,” I replied. “Now we’ll cut the cup from the wheel with a wire and let it dry. Then it will be fired, glazed, and fired again. That will take until tomorrow. Come back at the fourth hour of the afternoon; your cup will be ready then.”

“That’s so fast? I thought all this took several days,” I wondered. Mira nodded. “In Tarcania, we have a special clay… and a bit of magic. You wouldn’t want to face Leonora empty-handed, would you?”

I shook my head. Of course not! I wanted to prove myself worthy and not fail at my first tasks.

I thanked Mira warmly and hugged her. “Where is S… Kelo?” I almost let it slip. I still needed to get used to his public name…

“Kelo?” Mira asked. “Yes, my little black cat.”
“Oh, you mean him. I think I saw him near the kilns at the back. It’s nice and warm there—cats love that.”

I went around and there was Socks, completely relaxed, only his left front paw twitching slightly. He was probably dreaming of chasing mice. I gently stroked his head and he sleepily opened his eyes.
“Are you finally done? I’m hungry, and mealtime is soon. We have to get back to the Guild,” he meowed at me before stretching contentedly.

I said goodbye to Mira and set off back to the Guild with Socks, which was slowly becoming my home.

Continue reading

08: Hephon the Blacksmith

I followed Socks through the small forest surrounding the Guild. The path was just wide enough for a cart and a horse to pass. I enjoyed breathing in the spicy air, scented with pine and resin. The birds chirped happily, and now and then there was a crackle in the undergrowth. Perhaps a mouse or a hare we had startled.

Even if it had been a mouse, Socks kept going and didn’t get distracted. He was clearly on a mission – his mission as my guide. I have to admit, I was impressed and proud of my little furry friend for taking his task so seriously.

But I’d be careful not to tell him that, or his ego would surely grow many times his size. Tonight, he would definitely get a little extra treat.

After a while, we heard hammering. It had to be coming from the forge.

Somehow, I had imagined it smaller, tucked between the trees, but it was quite tall and large. The door was blackened with soot, and I pulled it open. Knocking wouldn’t have made sense with all the noise.

I stepped into the room and was hit by a wave of heat. My eyes began to water as the smoke irritated them.

The blacksmith stood by the forge, where a fire was burning, hammering away at a long, narrow piece of metal. Blanks, tools, and finished swords, daggers, and rapiers were lined up to the side. After a few strikes, he looked up and grinned at me.

“Welcome to my fiery hell. I’m Hephon, the Guild’s blacksmith. You must be Bobbie. Leonora told me you were coming. I expected you earlier, but well, now you’re here. You’re supposed to pick your sword, but have you ever held a sword before?”

“I had fencing lessons back home,” I answered proudly, and Hephon laughed loudly.

“Well, you’re just the right one for me. You’ve only ever waved a rapier about, and now you’re getting a sword. Where do you come from anyway? The other pages got their swords weeks ago and have already started training. You’re quite the latecomer. I’m surprised Leonora took you in.”

“I’ve only just arrived in Tarcania; I come from the Outside World,” I replied uncertainly, still remembering Cal’s reaction and his mockery. Hephon grew serious. “Outside World, hmm, I see. Well then, it’s an honour to give you your sword. I would forge one for you if we had enough time, but Leonora made it clear we don’t. So you’ll have to choose one. Do you know what to look for?”

I shook my head embarrassedly. Of course, I had no idea what made a good sword; I’d never used one before. Back home in Falkenstein, there were some swords hanging on the walls, but those were more relics of the past and decoration.

“The sword shouldn’t be too light because you need to focus on your movements rather than wildly swinging it about. This way, you concentrate better. It saves energy in the end and allows you to use it more precisely. I’d recommend a one-handed sword or better yet, a short sword, because with that you’re quicker—it’s lighter than a two-hander.

Try out some of my swords. It should feel like an extension of your arm. If you hold it vertically, it shouldn’t be too heavy. A traditional one-hander is between 90 and 130 centimetres long. That’s quite substantial.”

I swallowed nervously, and Hephon noticed my discomfort.

“A short sword is obviously smaller—40 to 80 centimetres. It’s lighter and will be easier for you to handle. The gladius from your world was 50–60 centimetres long, and if what we’ve heard here is true, then the Romans conquered an empire with it.”

“What was good enough for the Romans should be good enough for me,” I smiled confidently. Me, an Amazon with a Roman sword— I liked that idea.

Hephon nodded and showed me his short swords. I tried out a few, swinging them through the air and trying not to make too much of a fool of myself. One of the swords especially caught my eye. It wasn’t too light or too heavy and felt just right. It had a subtle engraving and seemed to call out to me.

“This is the one,” I said. Hephon nodded. “A good choice. The sword is called Valanur, and I’ll also give you a dagger, the scabbard, a belt, and gloves.”

I have to admit, I felt really good as I fastened the belt around my waist and sheathed my short sword and dagger. The gloves were made of soft leather, almost like a second skin.

I thanked Hephon and set off for the pottery. I would deal with the staff later, as I suspected the cup would take more time.

Of course, Socks knew the way as well and marched ahead of me with his tail held high. Somehow, he seemed a bit prouder and bolder in his stride after I had received the weapons. I felt like an Amazon, but I knew my fencing experience wouldn’t fully prepare me for sword training.

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