Chapter 82 – Fitting
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Fey and her party – minus Leandriel, who had logged out earlier due to his time zone – returned to Caleb’s workshop late in the day, bringing with them the hundreds of metal ingots that they had collected throughout the day.

 

Somewhat unexpectedly, the shop front was not deserted when they entered; instead, a player with the sandy golden hair and skin of a sun elf greeted them with a friendly smile.

“Welcome! I’m Beth, the assistant for Caleb Smith. Are you looking to commission some work from him?”

 

“Actually—” Sirena started.

“They’re sorted,” Caleb interrupted, entering from the back hallway while wiping his hands clean on a rag.

 

Many confused expressions were present in the room.

Blade was trying to understand why their previous visit had been full of hard-to-decipher nonverbal communication when Caleb had just demonstrated that he was perfectly capable of speaking. (Duh, because talking is such a drag sometimes.)

 

Fey was raising her eyebrow at Caleb like, ‘You have an assistant?’

Caleb responded with a slight shrug that seemed to say, ‘She followed me home.’

Fey’s right eye narrowed and she frowned in confusion.

Caleb made a dismissive gesture that Fey interpreted as, ‘Long story. Ask her if you want to know.’

 

“You made a deal with them?” Beth asked Caleb. “You never talk to the customers.”

 

“Oh, he didn’t,” Sirena assured the sun elf, which only made her more confused.

“How…” Beth trailed off as Caleb reached under a workbench and pulled out a set of punching blades sharpened to a polished edge.

 

“Oooh,” Fey said appreciatively, hefting the weapons in her hands when Caleb handed them over. Her previous weapons were well-made, but these were so perfectly balanced that they felt almost weightless. “Are these steel?” she asked, tilting a blade to examine the metallic sheen.

Caleb took half a second to judge whether Fey would be interested in a two-hour technical discussion of composite material properties combined with enchantment effects. (Not really.) “Partly,” he answered shortly.[i]

 

The demon smith headed to a different workbench and retrieved a stunningly intricate triple helix made of the yellow lightning essence they had given him, smaller loops flowing from the main shape in a mesmerizing geometric pattern. The slender threads of crystal were so thin they looked like they would snap at the slightest touch, but Caleb easily slid the design over Sirena’s manawood staff without any damage.

 

“Woaaah,” Sirena said, looking at the stats table for her magic abilities while holding the enhanced staff. The lightning essence added a bonus to her lightning spells that exceeded the water bonus she had from every other accessory she was wearing, and the shape of the design amplified her base magic strength by a full ten percent.

 

“I’m not done any of the armour,” Caleb said, as if the pieces he had produced already did not constitute unbelievably fast work.

“Where do you want this stuff?” Fey asked, lifting a flap on one of Boris’ packs and retrieving an iron ingot.

 

The demon smith tilted his head in the direction of the forge and the party followed him down the back hallway, leaving Beth watching his retreating form with a troubled expression on her face.

 

 

“So, Caleb, we were thinking,” Sirena said in a bright, cheery voice, “we might want to start a guild, and, uh, thought that you might be interested in joining.” Before the smith could give her more than an uninterested look, she added. “Fey really likes collecting random items that might be useful, and you might actually be able to use them. Also, no pressure to make stuff specifically for us if you don’t find it interesting. Also, we’ll totally help you collect items if you’re looking for something.”

 

With each addendum Sirena tacked on, Caleb’s expression became more and more suspicious.

Fey snorted as her normally silver-tongued friend made a hash of the invitation. “Forming the guild would mainly be a convenience thing. We’re not planning on any members other than the people you see here. And it would be helpful if you made something for one of us once in a while, but we wouldn’t particularly be directing your projects.”

 

Caleb’s expression relaxed. “Beth as well,” he stipulated.

“Done,” Sirena agreed with a touch too much enthusiasm.

Rolling her eyes, Fey gave her friend a pointed poke in the arm and sent a pointed message through PMs.

 

<Fey: Calm down, you’re acting like you’ve never seen a handsome guy before.>

<Sirena: Clearly you don’t appreciate the finer aspects of beauty.>

<Fey: What’s that supposed to mean?>

<Sirena: You just lump everyone into “disfigured”, “not disfigured”, and “Leandriel-level perfection.>

<Fey: I mean, essentially, I guess. So what?>

<Sirena: Never mind. It’s like trying to explain colour to a colour-blind person.>

<Fey: Just, stop fangirling. Have some dignity.>

 

Sirena snorted. “You’re one to talk,” she muttered aloud. The argument was interrupted as they reached the forge and began unloading their metal haul into storage bins.

 

“Ok let’s go kill things,” Fey suggested after they had finished, hefting her new punching blades with an evil gleam in her eye.

“Let’s,” Sirena agreed, stroking her upgraded staff. They had their petty differences, but her thoughts were perfectly in sync with her friend’s in this particular matter.

“Your pick,” Fey said to Mimi, who nodded and began leading the way out of the workshop.

“Are you going to tell us what we’re fighting before it tries to kill us this time?” Blade asked the sniper.

Mimi sent the party an information page.

“Level seventy?? You want us to die?” Blade asked incredulously. At this point, their levels were still in the mid-50s.

“They’re weak to lightning and they’re slow,” Sirena pointed out.  “That’s really all we need.”

“Ooh, look at those drops,” Fey added. “Let’s get stabby,” she said, patting her new punching blades.

“Bye Caleb! We’ll bring you back some pretty gemstones to play with,” Sirena called over her shoulder as they filed out through the door.

 

 

The silence seemed to echo after the lively party left.

Beth slipped into the back area, where Caleb was adjusting the temperature of his furnace to begin purifying the metal ingots that had just been delivered.

“Hey, Caleb?”

He stopped to look at her.

“Are we really going to join a guild with those guys?”

“Are you against it?” he asked.

“I… I’m not sure yet. If I were?”

“Then we wouldn’t join,” he answered matter-of-factly.

“Oh. Thanks. I guess I’ll try to get to know them better before I decide.”

Caleb inclined his head and went back to work while Beth returned to the front, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

 

***

 

Arwyn and Leah lounged in Leah’s living room, occasionally eating the snacks haphazardly placed on the coffee table. They had started the evening ostensibly watching a movie, but the videoscreen was turned off as Leah got into her primary mission of the night, grilling Arwyn about the details of what had happened when she and Leandriel had made up.

 

Leah sat back and exhaled upon hearing the events at Fey’s tree fort. “You know what, he’s really lucky to have found you. I’m not sure anyone else could stand that much perfection.”

“Like I can stand it well,” Arwyn muttered darkly, remembering all of her awkward stumbling and inability to make eye contact.

“No, you’re just being the normal derpy self you’d be if you were interested in dating anyone,” Leah corrected. “You’re not spending any time worrying that he’s out of your league.”

“Well, objectively speaking, he’s not even in a league because there’s no one for him to compete with,” Arwyn pointed out.

“Yes, and that doesn’t bother you, which is why you’re perfect for him.”

“Well, I mean, I can’t say I understand why he’s attracted to me, but he seems pretty happy so, yeah.” Aewyn shrugged.

 

Leah smiled affectionately at her friend. Such straightforward-borderline-simpleminded reasoning was so classic of Arwyn. “Come on,” she said, dragging her taller friend into her bedroom, where she had a mirror overlaid with a display screen that could be used to virtually try on clothing. “We’ll pick out your outfit for your date.”

“What date?” Arwyn asked confusedly.

“The one you’re going to go on as soon as he gets back from his trip.”

Date… Arwyn’s mind was stunned by the idea of meeting Leander again in real life, this time already in a relationship. Not that she really knew what their relationship was, only that they had said they liked each other.

“Where are we supposed to go?” she asked frantically, snapping out of the quiet daze she had been in, clutching at Leah’s hands as Leah positioned her in front of the mirror.

“Pick an actual activity, like the arcade or rock climbing,” Sirena advised. “You’ll be less of an idiot if you have something to focus on.”

“Right. Yes.” Arwyn nodded far too many times for such a simple answer.

Leah sighed. “I suppose sexy heels are out of the question then.” She started flipping through clothing catalogues as the corresponding articles of clothing superimposed themselves on Arwyn’s mirror image.

“I look like a newborn giraffe in high heels,” Arwyn pointed out, standing still so the mirror could do its work. (This is a repeat comparison, but there isn’t really much else that’s tall and really wobbly on its feet but pretty cute that the author can think of)

“Only when you try to walk. When you’re standing still, you look like a supermodel.”

“The point of shoes is to facilitate walking,” Arwyn said, falling into a longstanding argument with her friend.

“If you would just learn how to walk in heels you’d stop looking ridiculous,” Leah said for the dozenth time in their friendship.

“I’m not wearing shoes that hurt my feet and cause bunions and ankle sprains,” Arwyn declared, also for the dozenth time.

Leah gave an exasperated sigh and flipped the viewer to their usual compromise, ankle-high boots with wide, stable heels about five centimetres (two inches) high. “Happy?”

“…You can go a tiny bit higher,” Arwyn said, thinking of how tall Leander was.

“Oho,” Leah exclaimed knowingly as she made the adjustment. “Trying to impress a certain someone?”

“Shuddup,” Arwyn muttered. “I’ll have to take them off if we’re going rock climbing or whatever, anyways.”

“Hmm, you’re right,” Leah mused. “The only activity… Yes.

“What?” Arwyn asked confusedly.

“Never mind. I’ll arrange it with Leander,” Leah said decisively.

“What? What?” Arwyn said, the first an expression of non-understanding, the second a demand for information.

“Nope. It’ll be better this way,” Leah declared. Flipping to an entirely different section of the catalogue, she swapped mirror outfits to a long, flowing dress.

“Tell me what’s going on in that evil mind of yours,” Arwyn demanded, crossing her arms and turning sideways to interfere with the display.

“Oh shush,” Leah said, pushing Arwyn back in position. “I am the genius who got you two together. Have a little faith.”

Arwyn could not dispute the claim, but thinking about some of Leah’s stunts that ‘had worked out in the end’ throughout the years did not exactly make her relax. “Please, nothing too crazy. I’ve already used up my stock of emotional energy for the year and it’s only January.”

“Not crazy at all,” Leah assured her.

Sighing Arwyn turned back to the mirror and let Leah buy her an outfit that looked lovely but not something she could imagine having the occasion to wear.


[i] The author performed at least three deep Internet dives over the last year or so, trying to find metals or metal alloys more suited to edged weapon-making than various steels and was unable to find anything that had a better combination of flexibility and edge retention and therefore is attempting to make this sound more complicated with composite materials and magic enchantments so the answer isn’t just steel every time.

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