“I need a weapon.”

“Absolutely not,” Ren protested. “Slaves don't carry weapons.”

Anik fixed him with one of those looks that seemed able to turn rock into molten lava. “Didn't I tell you, already? Enough with the slave crap.”

Ren felt a twinge of nervousness and hated himself for it. “Yeah, because it won't be suspicious at all to see an armed Lowlander strolling down the street,” he countered sharply.

Anik raised his eyebrows at Ren. “Well then, I can just leave you to deal with all the soldiers and guards that'll come chasing us down while I take a nice, relaxing nap by the river. It's not as though your life matters to me.” He turned and started back in direction of their horses.

Ren swallowed, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. He had always considered the art of talking one of his finest skills, but Anik seemed to keep yanking that rug out from underneath him. He sighed. “Fine, I'll buy you a weapon.”

They left the busy marketplace behind in search of a smithy. Ren was thankful for the thinning of the crowd around him, even if Isleya's streets were still busier than those in Teu. The architecture in the city's wealthy districts, made mostly of light sandstone buildings and engraved arches, reminded Ren of Aleria. Here, thankfully, there were no golden ribbons on flagpoles or above doorways to remind Ren of his misery.

They found the smithy by following the sound of struck iron. When they arrived, the smith greeted them from beneath the belly of a large bay draft horse.

“I'm looking for a sword,” Ren explained.

The smith lowered the horse's massive front hoof to the ground before turning towards them. “Over there's what I have for sale,” he said, pointing to a rack with his hammer. “If you want something custom-made, it'll take about a week.”

“Thank you,” Ren said, sitting down on a rough stone bench as Anik wandered over to inspect the selection.

Ren ate his bun while he waited. It took Anik an unreasonable amount of time to select a weapon. Determining balance and weight was apparently a timely process and extremely important to the Lowlander. It reminded Ren of when Danali'd had to pick new curtains for Thais' room last year after Thais had accidentally set the old ones on fire. Ren had never known there could be so many different kinds of fabrics, stitchings, and patterns. And just like the curtains, he could hardly tell the difference between the various swords Anik tried to choose from as he held them out in front of him, smoothed a hand down the lengths of the blades and swung them at invisible enemies.

“This one,” Anik said finally, swinging the fifth sword of the bunch in a slow circle. Tossing the sword into the air, he allowed it to make a full turn before catching it by the hilt.