As we entered the heart of the Forge Quarter, a wall of sensory bombardment slammed into us. The air was thick with the smell of hot metal and cooling oil while a relentless cacophony of hammer strikes and grinding wheels echoed between buildings. Students from other academies moved in tight groups, many wearing their academy colors like badges of honor or territorial markings.
Carmen stopped in front of a massive screen displaying a rotating map of the district and without warning shoved a datapad into my hands.
"Here's a list of the academy-approved smiths," she said while already looking bored with the entire excursion. "They know you're coming. Don't wander off." Her gaze shifted to Juan, who was leaning against a nearby wall with his eyes half-closed. "Juan, you're with me."
Juan's eyes snapped open in alarm. "Why me? I was gonna take a nap on that bench."
