"Mierda"

Alexander picked up John’s dagger and studied the runes, tilting it this way and that so that the firelight would shine on it.

“The craftsmanship is exemplary, and to think you completed it so quickly. Who was your first master? They taught you well.”

“I haven’t had any formal training.”

Alexander raised his eyebrows and John heard a loud clang from right behind him.

“Eso es mierda! No lo creo! No es posible! Maldito mentiroso!”

A long bar of steel was on the floor, at Arabella’s feet. She was gorgeous, her light brown hair matted to her forehead and her brown eyes alight with fury, her full lips spouting rapid fire Spanish insults, her small chest heaving with her every breath, her slightly toned arms on her wide hips…

Shit, staring, staring!

He snapped out of it and payed attention to what she was actually saying.

“There’s just no fucking way you could have just walked up to una maldita forge for the first time and made such a- such a… una daga tan hermosa…”

She cooed the last few words, her anger apparently dying down a bit as she looked at his new blade. He gulped.

I’m in some shit. Not deep shit, but some shit nonetheless.

“I’m not sure what half of the words you said meant, but I can assure you that I have no experience.”

John tried for a soothing tone, but all he succeeded in doing was wrenching her blissful gaze away from his blade and turn her fury back on him.

“A mi no me importa lo que…”

She sighed and rubbed her temples.

“I don’t care what you can assure me, alright? No one is that gifted. No one makes a masterpiece on their first try. It. Just. Doesn’t. Happen.”

Alexander cleared his throat, a sound akin to millstones grinding flour. Arabella looked to him, and her face paled two skin tones.

“I believe that is enough, Arabella. He is telling the truth. If he had had any formal training to gain this level of skill, he would have a much more defined musculature. You used magic, yes?”

John nodded.

“There is your answer. It is rare, but it happens. Smithing magic…”

He paused for a few seconds, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Aren’t you a fire mage?”

John looked from Arabella to Alexander, not sure if fire magic was incompatible with smithing magic and therefore exposing himself as something more. He nodded slowly, worried but unafraid.

“What a lucky combination. You must have been born to be the greatest smith of the age.”

John could hear Arabella growling over the roar of the fires. Then the bell rang.

“Well, class is over. I’ll put this in the armory. You two go home now.”

John tried to grab his dagger, but Alexander was already halfway to the back room. The man took big steps.

“Wai-”

“You don’t get to keep the things you make in class. They’re for selling and for arming students in case of an emergency.”

Arabella explained this to him as she glared at him. He was uncomfortable with the realization that they were alone without an authority figure to keep her from killing him, so he did what any sane human would do. He ran.

He threw the apron off and sprinted for the door.

“Hey! Maldito sea, Wait! We need to talk!”

John didn’t want to talk. As soon as he stepped over the threshold of the classroom door, he was teleported to the courtyard. He stumbled for a bit, very disoriented, but his agility score helped him right himself and he kept running.

“Hey! I said we need to talk!”

She was still right behind him.

Time for evasive maneuvers

He sprinted into the crowd of students going home.

---

Layla walked out of her last class of the day, teleported to the courtyard like everyone else. She was disappointed by this morning, but she was happier than before.

If he’s happy with her, I’ll just have to make him miserable. Then, he’ll dump her and be with me! It’ll be perfect!

She smiled to herself. Then his presence exploded into the courtyard. Her eyes widened and her head snapped up to scan the multitude.

There he is, he’s… running? From what? From who?

“Hey! I said we need to talk!”

Layla narrowed her eyes in anger.

That’s MY man, bitch!

She ran towards her, a plan forming.

---

John bobbed and wove through the crowd, throwing more than a few shouts of “excuse me!” and “sorry!” as he went. Most students got out of his way without a second thought, but one made the mistake of trying to trip him. John’s parkour activated and the student ended up on the floor with John’s knee on their chest. John got up and kept running, leaving behind the loose circle of laughing students with phone cameras. He made it to the gate and heard a scream. He turned and saw Arabella on the floor, getting beat up by a girl with flaming hands. He had neither the inclination nor the inspiration to intervene. He crossed the street carefully and climbed a fire escape, setting a parkour route for home.

---

Layla pummeled the bitch that dared speak to her man. She didn’t care what her name was, or what her intentions were. She had cost Layla a chance to talk to her man. A chance to exchange names, phone numbers, addresses, bodily fluids. Layla’s vision was clouding in anger, and her fists kept connecting with something harder than flesh.

---

Arabella had followed John out of class, and called out to him.

Why is the damn idiot running? Does he hate cleaning his workplace even more than I do? Alexander’s going to tan both our hides if he doesn’t get back here.

“Hey! I said we need to talk!”

She started to jog after him, but lost him in the crowd pretty quickly. There was some big commotion somewhere towards the gates. She guessed that was probably him tripping over someone. She started towards that direction, then something soft and heavy hit her. She fell to the ground.

“Que carajo? Get off me, crazy bitch!”

Her bracers materialized on her forearms.

Aw shit. This bitch is going to try and fight me.

The punches came, a furious flurry, and Arabella blocked each one with ease. They weren’t even that strong.

I could have been okay without the bracers…

“I’m getting tired of your shit. Get. OFF!”

She threw the bitch off of her and looked around for John. He was gone. She sighed and looked at the mess of a girl on the floor. Was she sobbing?

---

John had just avoided a large barrier by Mitchum Park when he saw someone suspicious on a roof top. John stood at the edge of an eight-story building across the street from the mysterious figure, who was on a six-story building. He was tall, easily six and a half feet, and thin. He wore a pinstriped business suit. His face was narrow and he held up a cell phone to his pointed ear.

"I know you two are literally arch-enemies but you're also the two best players in the D&D group so get over it and come join"

The man’s voice was derisive and antagonistic, like he knew he was the superior and loved every second of it. John couldn’t help himself.

Who is this guy?

He cast observe.

Kyonchi

Level 64 True Neutral

Just as John started to read the information box, Kyonchi turned and looked him straight in the eye. He smiled mischievously and disappeared with a soft pop! sound. John furrowed his eyebrows.

Did he… Just sense my observe?

He activated parkour again and got home safely, troubled by this new concept.

“Mom! I’m home! Do you want me to start dinner, or-”

He took a deep breath, the house smelled like food already. Pizza. His mom hated the pizza places close by. Something was wrong.

“Mom?”

“In the kitchen, sweetie.”

She sounded forcefully cheerful. Needless to say, John was worried when he saw his mom grabbing a few slices of pizza out of a box and putting it on a plate for him.

“Eat up, honey. I bought it for you.”

“Why?”

She looked anywhere but at him, her hands fidgeting with her clothes.

“Mom, what’s going on?”

“Your father was just promoted. He’s getting transferred to the Canadian office and taking us with him. We’re moving.”

John shook his head.

“No, mom, no I can’t. I just got into the best school in the state, I can’t just up and leave! I-I-”

“I knew you would be upset, sweetie, but there’s nothing we can-”

Beep Beep Ding!

His mom’s phone went off. She looked at it, confused.

“I could have sworn I set it to silent.”

She looked at the screen.

“It’s an email from your school, about on-campus housing?”

John narrowed his eyes.

This is all working out too well. What’s going on? There has to be a catch somewhere.

Ding!

John disregarded the achievement for now, and focused on his mom.

“What does it say?”

“It says that you’re eligible for a dorm room through your scholarship, and that there’s space open now. Honey, this is perfect! You won’t have to leave… But we won’t be able to see each other…”

She fell into a somewhat sad silence. John’s pizza laid untouched.

“Mom, doesn’t this all seem a little off to you? It’s too perfect, too clean.”

She shook her head and smiled.

“Sometimes things just work out, sweetie. I’m signing you up. My flight leaves tomorrow afternoon, an-”

“Tomorrow afternoon? And you tell me today that we were moving? Why did you wa-”

“John Benjamin Newman I know I taught you better manners than this. If you interrupt me one more time I will take you with me to Canada.”

John clamped his mouth shut.

“Your father called me this morning. I stayed home from work and packed my things. I wanted to call the school to tell you, but I knew you would be hard at work making sure you kept your scholarship and I couldn’t bring myself to tell you over the phone. So, I bought you a pizza from that nice place in Little Italy and waited for you to get home. Now that the school is offering you a dorm, I’m signing you up to take them up on their offer. There will be no debate on this. No wiggle room. No loop holes. My word is final in this. Understood?”

John nodded reluctantly.

This is too suspicious. It’s like someone is trying to get my mom out of the way so they won’t hurt her on their way to me or something.

John shook his head.

“Mom, are you sure?”

“I am positive, and there’s nothing more to discuss. I’ll be in my room. Finish your dinner.”

John munched on his pizza as she walked upstairs.