The Call of Home

CHAPTER 5

It was decided that Arwel, Idris and I would be in charge of most of the hunting during this trip as the three of us had the most experience with it. Cerys would prepare blankets and items of that nature, as her father owned a shop that sold various pelts and other such things. Seren was a most skilled forager with a keen eye and decades of experience, which only made me wonder how old everyone was despite their youthful looks. Before my move, I had lived in what was essentially the sticks in the northern part of the country where I'm from, often killing moose, elk, or deer since childhood. I became a great shot over time and missed it greatly since my move.

The next day, the males and I went to the smith I had met all those months ago to re-up on arrows and arrowheads, daggers, and to sharpen Arwel's hatchet. Arwel and Idris walked ahead of me into the forge. The smith's, shop was a modest yet sturdy building, its stone walls blackened from years of constant use. The faint smell of smoke and metal hung in the air. Inside, the heat of the forge hit me like a wave as soon as I crossed the threshold, the crackling fire casting a warm orange glow across the room.

Rows of weapons and tools lined the walls. Swords, daggers, and spears of all sizes, were meticulously crafted and gleaming under the dim light. A large anvil sat in the center of the backroom, marred by countless hammer blows, while a wide table in the corner was scattered with unfinished projects and various metal scraps. The rhythmic clang of metal on metal rang through the space, as Ande, an older male with graying hair and strong, calloused hands, stood near the forge, hammering away at a glowing blade.

The flames that danced high in the stone hearth, and the low hum of heat pulsed through the room. It wasn't just the equipment that gave the place character, though. There was something grounded and ancient about it. Somehow, he had heard the bell chime as we entered over the noise of it all.

"Be right there," he bellowed, still hammering away.

The three of us took in the shop, Arwel, in particular, eyeing a particular broad sword, marvelling at the expertly curated hilt, and intricate design engraved at the base of the sword, extending to the tip. Idris eyed the parchment on which he had written all we needed to grab today, studying it to ensure we wouldn't be missing anything. Another moment passed by, and the sound of a freshly forged blade had a barrel of water hissing upon contact, steam rising in a cloud from the sudden temperature change. Ande set the blade on a workbench nearby and grumbled to himself as he approached the counter separating the storefront from the workshop.

He was still wiping the soot off his hands when he started, "Welcome, what can I do for y-," he paused as his gaze met mine, "My dear, Brave Heart!" The giant male circled the counter, opening the waist-height, well, for him, knee-height swinging door to embrace me.

"Hi, Ande!" I hugged him and pat his back as he turned to the males, still gripping my shoulder tightly around one arm. The two males were wide-eyed and startled at the affection.

"This is the female who stopped that damn idiot who thought he could steal from me right under my nose." Idris and Arwel, still stunned, looked at each other dumbfounded. Ande continued, "Still treating that dagger well?"

I patted my hip where the razor-sharp obsidian blade stayed sheathed, "More like it's treating me well." The two of them eyed the spectacular dagger, still lost for words. Ande loosened his grip on me.

"So what brings you in?"

Idris handed him the list as I answered, "We are going on a little trip and need some supplies. And some sharpening if you have the time."

"Anything for you, Brave Heart," Ande replied with a pat on my head and took the paper from Idris. He motioned for Arwel to come behind the counter and disappeared into the back.