Chapter 18: The Forge

After all the places I had visited and the harsh life I had tasted within them, the sprawling, teeming city of Omashu felt like a beacon, a land of opportunity. The sheer abundance of ordinary citizens struck me the moment I stepped inside: well-dressed, well-fed, and content. I struggled to find enough superlatives to describe the people here compared to that Earth Kingdom village. As for the soldiers, it felt like there were as many of them as there were civilians, at least at the gates; they stood armed, listening to their captains, while others manned the walls or conducted city patrols.

The houses here were magnificent! They were large and incredibly sturdy; you could tell at a glance they were the work of earthbenders, who had shaped them into a single, cohesive structure. The buildings resembled a vast monolith; a wall or support of one house could serve as a dwelling for an entire multitude. It was admittedly confusing and felt like a human anthill, but impressive nonetheless. If Fire Nation technology didn't exist, the benders here could surpass all nations in the sheer durability of their architecture, once again proving the supremacy of their versatile element.

"Did they really give this place up without a fight?" I whispered quietly, recalling the events of the canon. King Bumi surrendered such a fortress; I couldn't remember the exact reasons, but it looked insane! At least now, with the city so densely packed with civilians: they swarmed the market squares, bustled through the upper districts, and tried to coexist somehow. As I understood it, I had caused a "refugee surge." My actions had cleared many safe routes, through which those seeking security had rushed. It raised the question of how they handled poverty and real estate here. I recalled something in the canon about wealth inequality measures, but again, the details escaped me.

In any case, the lives saved eased the guilt stirring in the depths of my heart whenever I remembered how many monstrous thugs I had let go just to keep my oath. I let them go to become strong – a strange correlation, perhaps, but benders are unusual entities, and the source of their power is impossible to fathom!

"Benders might be strange, but they still have to eat," my stomach growled. Looking into my purse, I saw only a few Earth Kingdom coins. I doubted there was a currency exchange here; they likely wouldn't accept Fire Nation gold, and I hadn't brought much of it anyway to keep my load light. Wandering between the food stalls, trying to tune out the roar of the local markets, I realized I couldn't get by without work. I didn't know how long I’d have to stay, and besides, I could learn a lot of interesting things about bending from the locals.

[Choose:]

[1 — Join the Army (Life by the book and strict discipline. You will join the ranks of the Earth Kingdom soldiers and gain the opportunity to develop the basics of combat bending. Strength training and daily drills will force you to become stronger. You may be ordered to kill. Movement will be strictly restricted. Omashu deploys soldiers across the continent; there is a chance to reach Ba Sing Se.)]

[2 — Focus on Reformation (The city is home to many architectural benders whose art will allow you to deepen your mastery. You will enhance your understanding of material reformation and learn to reshape matter more rapidly.)]

Surprisingly, the options were meager. I saw far more possibilities. I could even become famous and use my library knowledge to my advantage! But apparently, Anubis was indirectly signaling that none of that would work; I would simply die. Either due to the various intrigues and factions that surely existed here, or something else. Regardless, joining the army was forbidden; it would be a direct violation of my "peace-loving" stance. Catching the eye of Afka, who was nudging me, an idea struck me on how to combine business with pleasure.

"Find a place where they use abrasives," I told her. I gave her a lead on where to look. I hadn't read so much about the material for nothing, and I knew which industries used it. Soon, I was following her wagging tail. She led me deep into the lower levels of the city, a place where significantly less sunlight penetrated, and the "sky" consisted of the foundations of various houses. A separate branch of the local delivery system led to the workshop where Afka brought me.

Freight and mail were delivered through large chutes reaching high above. Bending and the laws of gravity. I hoped they didn't deliver anything fragile here, because on my way down, I frequently saw massive "mail carts" slamming into walls at high speeds to come to a halt before continuing on. Living near them was likely unpleasant; the noise of the rolling vans could wake anyone. But for the place we had arrived at, such things were likely trivial – they were learning to make things strong and indestructible!

Clang! Thud! Clang! Thud!

Entering the forge, I saw shirtless, muscular men with grim expressions striking metal, cutting wood, or working with jewelry. Afka’s nose wrinkled at the scent of sweat; the heat was intense, but given where I grew up, I adjusted easily. These people were true masters of stone; their art was the reformation of matter, and that was how they made their living.

"Who are you?" Before I could find a specific person using the material I needed, a giant loomed over me... or rather, a two-meter-tall brute whose muscles, framed only by a single apron, looked imposing to say the least. Even stranger was his skin color, it was... charcoal black. Literally. I couldn't even bring myself to call him dark-skinned; there was something unnatural about the hue.

Lifting my head, I met his gaze. The giant had something in common with me: a terrifying stare. Given how he towered over me, I got the impression he might try to crush me at any moment.

Removing my headwear, I nodded. "I'm an earthbender. I’d like to learn the art of processing here."

"...I see," he said, and without another word, he turned his back on me, losing all interest entirely. It was strange; I had no idea why he had even approached. However, another man took his place, a bearded fellow in an apron and armguards who had overheard and was eyeing me keenly. Wiping coal dust from his hands, he stepped closer and smirked.

"Don't mind Cruist; he handles our orders. You new in town? Looking for work?" He met my gaze calmly.

"A side job... temporary."

"Is that so! People usually try to settle down in this city, find a long-term gig, and you’re just passing through?" His voice held a hint of displeasure; he knitted his brows and began to drill into me with his eyes. The atmosphere felt genuinely threatening, but without a sense of fear, I didn't even flinch. Keeping my eyes locked on the bender, I finally saw a smirk play across his lips. "You'll do. We usually send the cowards to push dung in the sewers. Figuratively speaking."

He chuckled mischievously, and a wave of laughter rippled through the forge. I couldn't tell if he was joking, but I realized these men respected the steadfast character inherent to their element. Perhaps they just needed a small push, or the teachings of a guru, to open their first chakra. Meanwhile, the man patted my back with a hand partially cleaned of coal.

"The name’s Coal. I run this forge. We process wood here and make various parts for factories. To get you set up properly, we need to do some paperwork. It’s quick." Gesturing for me to follow, he walked with a firm stride toward his office. The place wasn't exactly wealthy, just Spartan, functional conditions. At most, the chair was made of wood rather than stone, presumably to avoid piles.

He asked about my home and my name, and after a brief list of questions, he asked what I could do. My answer was simple: nothing, other than fine control over my element and accelerating small stones.

"Accelerating, you say..." Coal narrowed his eyes. "Not every earthbender can boast about speed. We’ll see what you can do. You might be useful; I was thinking of keeping you as an assistant and paying you peanuts to scrub out coal soot."

"...Can't benders just clear dust with a single gesture?" I asked, confused. Any dust, especially coal dust, should be cleared with a flick of the wrist.

"Tell that to our 'charcoal' over there," the smirking man nodded toward the black-skinned man. He was busy exchanging glances with Afka, who had perched herself on a rack. He slowly reached out a hand and scratched her behind the ear. "The lad once made himself armor out of coal and pressed it so tight to his body that it bonded to him. It won't rub off. So, don't mess around with coal."

Now it made sense why his skin tone was so... stark. I felt bad for the guy; he looked kind-hearted, but he was stuck with a terrifying look.

"I wanted to ask for something," I said, finally remembering why I had come, drawing Coal's full attention.

******

A crowd had gathered around a small workstation where sparks were flying and intense light flickered. Squinting and shielding their eyes, they all stared intently at disks spinning at high speeds, which were slowly but very evenly slicing through steel plates and finishing them. A genuine miracle was unfolding before their eyes.

"How is that kid spinning those abrasive disks so fast? Look at all those sparks!"

"I usually have to push them with a partner for grinding. Can't get any speed that way. This kid’s using two hands, but he’s controlling four at once! That’s insane."

I stood there wearing goggles to protect my eyes from metal shards. A distinct smell filled the air, and a smile played on my face. I had finally gotten my hands on the elusive material. The abrasive disks they made here were essentially nothing more than crushed quartz. Sand from such material was sharp and extremely hard, suitable for any heavy-duty work. If sharpened, it could even be used to cut pieces of metal.

It was easy to control, too. The abrasive wheels were incredibly light and accelerated perfectly; the only issue with such a high work pace was that the abrasive wore down quite quickly.

"Is it just me, or has he already finished his quota?" the workers whispered behind me. But as soon as I turned around, they all went silent, looking at me like I was a hero. Even 'charcoal,' standing behind the others and towering over them by a head, stood with wide eyes, holding Afka in his arms.

"I'm not sure if I'm doing this right... can anyone tell me how to optimize the workflow?"

The men looked at each other.

"Well... actually... there are a few things you're doing a bit wrong."