After Tida left, Gaien started working with the magic ores he’d gathered in the depths of the mountain, ones that had been altered by the accumulation of natural mana. The first step of the process was refining them. With the help of Salamander’s flames and his magic-enhanced hammer, Gaien purged the ores’ impurities by using mana to pinpoint and remove them. This was an alchemy technique that required a high level of precision. I’d heard that it was incredibly hard to master, but Gaien was executing it flawlessly, as though it were a walk in the park. He’d reached the zenith of blacksmithing mastery.
I was looking at him in awe when Kagali, who’d been watching him work just as intently, spoke up.
“My master has always been like this, you know? He taught me how to smith, but he won’t teach me how to make weapons.”
“Dwarf women don’t craft weapons, do they?” I asked.
“They don’t. Normally, that is.”
Regardless of their actual skills, people’s job options were heavily restricted by countless factors—one’s gender, social class, wealth, appearance, culture, and connections could open or close doors.
During my time in the kingdom, I had been actively working to reduce such limitations. I had encouraged the employment of female knights, established new certifications people could obtain to attest their skills, and built schools to give more children the chance to receive a quality education. My hard work had yielded some results, but there was no denying that most aspects of people’s lives were still heavily bound by norms and customs. I’d been hoping to eventually get rid of these restraints entirely, but since I’d left the kingdom unexpectedly, I’d never been able to see things through.
With its multitude of races and cultures, the empire was a lot less restrictive, generally speaking. Gender and race did not limit people’s opportunities as much as they did in the kingdom.
“The empire has no laws that prevent women from crafting weapons,” I told Kagali.
“I know.”
“What I mean is that there is no need to limit yourself. If what you want to do isn’t against the law, you can just do it.”
“But even other women tell me that I should just craft tools or do engraving work, and leave the weapons to the men because forging them is a man’s job. And my master tells me the same thing. He said he only taught me smithing so I could be a good wife in the future.”
Kagali’s words made me realize that we had entirely different viewpoints. As a stateswoman, I’d been looking at the big picture, but Kagali had been considering her personal situation.
Even if the empire as a whole was progressive, people experienced different realities based on their surrounding environment. For the majority of people, the town or village in which they lived was their entire world. Unless they left their communities, those miniature worlds would be the only places that shaped their views and experiences.
“I remember the first time I saw my master craft a sword when I was a child,” Kagali continued. “When I watched the metal slowly take the shape of a sword, I thought it was beautiful. I knew blades were frightening objects, but excitement won over fear in my heart.”
Kagali’s eyes twinkled with a childlike wonder as she spoke. I could see adoration in them. Not hope or the strong resolve needed to oppose her surroundings, just plain adoration.
“Is that why you taught yourself how to forge weapons?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “I thought that if I proved myself, my master might accept me one day. And then, maybe I, too, could become a full-fledged weaponsmith.”
“That sounds...unlikely. Small communities tend to attach great importance to traditions and cultural norms.”
“What’s with you? Do you really think the old geezers who insist women shouldn’t be anywhere near crafting weapons are in the right?”
“Not at all. I personally think using culture or tradition as an excuse to restrict people’s access to jobs based on their gender or race is ridiculous.”
“Then why would you say that?! I’m working hard to prove to everyone that women can also become weaponsmiths!”
“I know you are, Kagali. I can see that. However...I don’t think hard work is enough in your situation.”
“It’s...not?”
“Everyone makes an effort to spark change, but the cage of culture is a sturdy one—one that’s been built over generations. If you keep hoping your hard work will somehow make someone free you someday, you’ll never escape this cage.”
“But then...what am I supposed to do?!”
If Kagali truly wished to make her dream come true, there was an easy solution to her problem. All she had to do was leave this city—and Gaien’s side.
“You must figure that out yourself,” I said. “An answer that’s given to you has no meaning.”
It would have been easy for me to tell her the answer. After all, Kagali was skilled enough to have a decent shot at making it, in my opinion. But for someone who’d spent her whole life in the small world of this city, leaving her community behind and jumping into the unknown was likely terrifying. If she couldn’t get over that fear by herself, Kagali was better off trying to accept the status quo.
“Think for yourself and make your own decision. If you can’t do that, I think you’ll be happier continuing the life you’ve led so far and keeping your admiration in a corner of your heart.”
“My admiration...”
“To put it differently, you know how to ride a horse, but you’ve never prepared for the actual journey. You have no map and have never so much as asked travelers for directions. You don’t even know how to saddle your horse. All you’re doing is dreaming of riding to a foreign land you’ve only ever heard about.”
Kagali pursed her lips before whispering, “I’ll think about what you’ve said...”
If what I’d told her made her give up, it would show that she wasn’t strong enough to pursue that objective from the start. I wasn’t all that worried, though. Kagali seemed shocked, but a single glance at her told me she was trying to take everything in and was looking within herself for a satisfactory answer.