From ancient times to the present, there is a custom passed down by the dwarfs that goes like this... At the age of thirty and up, dwarfs are granted the opportunity to line up to the great forges for a test that would determine their fate...
It is a test to truly determine one's capability and talent in the arts of blacksmithing, the occupation that brings the highest form of glory for the dwarfs of the past who were considered legendary with the greatest of equipment and weapons produced by the ancient race...
The custom was sacred and could essentially set a person into a life of prosperity and great fame if they managed to pass, they were granted the privilege of becoming a blacksmith of the nation, creating works of art that could sell for an exorbitant amount of gold.
For an occupation so sought out and a path of success brought before their very eyes, it also meant that the trials those willing to tackle were arduous and perilous...
The forges the young must step forth in and truly show their talent, they were beyond harsh. The haphazard and unsafe environment of black smoke billowing out each sector as the flames roared out with fiery licks, it was an understatement to say it was hard...
The justification set forth by the king was if one could not even manage to step foot and conquer through such tribulations brought before them, they would simply be too unfit and unworthy for the art and position of blacksmithing...
With a trial so difficult, it was no wonder that over ninety percent of applicants failed. To add to that, the sacred custom never allowed retries under any and all circumstances... But that didn't stop aspiring blacksmiths from applying and then came one particular young dwarf...
Filled with ambition, he entered into the forges as soon as he turned the age of thirty. Having practiced since fifteen, he was qualified in every aspect, able to create prototypes that even amazed veteran blacksmithing dwarfs. Yet on the day of trial, an incident befell upon him...
Ingrained in his work and with the burning desire to create his magnum opus right then and there, he endured the heat of the forge, sweating profusely as the entirety of his focus was set on creating the perfect product he had envisioned in his mind.
Yet his ambition and desire for greatness would quickly lead to his downfall as suddenly, he made the fatal mistake of slipping on a puddle of his own sweat, dropping his unfinished work down into the fiery pits of the forge and never to be seen again...
He was heartbroken, having failed the trials, meant he could never be a blacksmith... Even with his dreams shattered, even with everyone slowly but surely turning their eyes away from the prospering child, he never allowed his dream, his ultimate goal to slip from his hands...
He held onto that goal, from the very moment he failed the test to even as he grew up. He just couldn't allow himself to let go of what he truly wanted to become, it was his calling, and nothing in his mind nor the words around him changed that dream of his...
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Gripping the rough surface for the wooden handle tight, he pulled back both arms, and mustering his strength he swung force and hit the blade of the axe straight into the base of the tall pine tree. With one swing alone, the tree was knocked off and promptly felled.
Slowly, it creaked and landed on the white snow ground, it quickly sent a white cloud flying up, resulting in a messy sight that'd have one groan out of annoyance. But with the sun slowly setting in the distance, the man didn't have much more time until nightfall...Not wanting to return late with the others, he stuck his axe into the stump of the tree, and with immediate routine preparations, he strapped on a steady rope and holding piles upon piles of cut logs, hoisted them up on his back, carefully to not to slip and began moving.
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Fleeting Memories
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