Kostas waved enthusiastically to Jaiko from the end of the street.
The street was empty and by the look of it, his shop had been closed all day. The only traffic on this street came by way of Kostas' shop. He was the only blacksmith on the east side of inner Jhyr. The surrounding streets were busy with well-to-do citizens, commoners and foreigners alike. The city hummed, heavy with conversation, the shrieks of children at play, and the barking of dogs in the distance. And the only street devoid of activity was that of Kostas' smith works.
People nodded and smiled as Jaiko slowly rode past and Rhaxor trotted alongside him.
"There is a cleanliness about this city that is absent in any other I've seen," Rhaxor said.
"How many cities have you seen in your time?"
"In my time? I am only a man of thirty-seven, Jaiko."
"Thirty-seven is two years past what the average Gresani man gets."
"Maybe the average poor man, but I am not poor. Besides, Gresani men are known to live to be very old, how old is your great grandfather now? Seventy-five?"
"Eighty-two, with the wit of a man a fourth that."
"Eighty-two!? I've never heard of any man living that long, even us Gresani men."
"He isn't Gresani."
"Isn't he?"
"No, he was born in old Eritana, in Donnol before the Skanish came and renamed it 'Torr.'"
"Did he fight for his country against the Skan men when they invaded?"
"He did, in the Eritanian navy, he has hundreds of stories about sinking Skanish ships all up and down the Niverchester, even in raiders gulf."
"Sounds like quite the life, perhaps one day the people of Eritan blood will rise up against Ander and take back what's theirs. Maybe even you."
"I'm not Eritanian, Rhaxor, do you see the curl of my hair? The brown of my skin?"
"You have their blood all the same Jaiko."
Jaiko rolled his eyes and turned his head away to yawn. " It is still early, Jaiko, perhaps you should let me pick it up, whatever it is," Rhaxor said. "You should be spending this time resting or relaxing. The conclave is soon and it will be grueling."
"No, I need to see this, besides I doubt I'd be able to find sleep or find relaxation anyway."
"And what exactly is this? Why are we here?" Rhaxor asked.
"Is it not you that always prattles on about brashness and impatience?"
Rhaxor scoffed. "Prattles? You are intent on viewing me as some old man."
Kostas met them as they rode up outside the shop and grinned with pride as they dismounted. He wiped sweat and smut from his brow, greasy oil-colored curls stuck to his forehead and temples. "Hello, Jaiko," he said.
"Kostas," Jaiko replied, with a slight bow of the head. "How did it turn out? Were you able to complete it?"
"Yes my lord, it wasn't easy to 'dye' but I did it, and I think you'll like it." Kostas opened the door to the shop and ushered them in.
"Rhaxor, you'll wait out here," Jaiko said.
Rhaxor sighed, "Jaiko, you know I'm not to leave your side."
"Alright then, but you will not lecture me."
"Are you going to give me a reason to?"
"Don't I always?"
The gray-stone shop was hot and smelled of sweat, metal, and fire. It was lit only by furnace and cracks in the wood roofing that let streams of sunlight beam in and burn away the darkness. The two trailed Kostas to the closed door at the back. Jaiko gently bit down on his lip, skin tingling with excitement, as Kostas opened the door.
There it stood, brighter than fire, propped up by the redwood display stand, shimmering gold up top that grew darker further down until it was black as night. A beam of light shone down from the ceiling, glinting off the dark-gold top of the muscle cuirass. Jaikos eyes were drawn to the mid-section where gold metal met black and black met dark leather pteruges. Pauldrons and fingered gauntlets guarded the black leather that peeked out from underneath. The cuisse and greaves matched the shimmering black and the Titan sigil was adorned on the center of the chest piece; a pair of crossed swords and a shield over the sun.
Jaiko lost himself in the beautiful abyss of black and gold that was the armor, and he moved to examine it in greater detail. Small grey lines flowed outward from the sigil in almost unnoticeable streams that stretched across the armor.
Kostas' voice woke Jaiko from his trance. "What do you think, Jaiko? I could always add a horsehair crest to the helmet."
"No Kostas, It's perfect. Thank you."
Rhaxor spoke up. "What have you done, Jaiko? This was your armor, wasn't it? Your mother will be livid."
"That is unfortunate, but this is what I want," Jaiko replied.
"This is your problem Jaiko, you cannot simply do things because you want. The noble patrons came from all corners of Thacia, some traveling over a thousand miles, all to see the GOLDEN Titans."
"Rhaxor, I believe we had an agreement upon entering...something along the lines of me not being nagged if I remember correctly, which I do."
Rhaxor crossed his arms and sighed again. "She is going to lose her mind."
Good.
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