I gawk at my mother as she raises a brilliantly shining sword in the air and slowly turns it, reveling at how beautiful her piece of work had turned out. Reaching out to feel the inscribed initials "R.M." on the handle of the sword, my mom bats my hand away, casting me a dissaproving look.
"The sword is still hot Fiarah, unless you'd like to bring your fingers to a bubble!" she says, as she sets down her hammer.
"I'm sorry Ma, it's just one of your best works yet. Although you say father was an extraordinary blacksmith, I sometimes wonder who could have crafted that sword finer."
My mother smiled, seemingly thinking the same question.
"Give this a minute to cool aye? Then set it in its sheathe, over there hanging by the door, and bring it over to Roy." She instructed. "Make sure to tell him I'm now waiting for that duel he promised with me." With that she gave me an anticipated smile and went into the next room to begin cooking dinner.
I grabbed the cooled sword and slid it into its leather sheathe, slipped out of my family's cozy forge, and into the outdoors. The icy air nipped at my nose, giving my face a tingling sensation and sending shivers down my whole body. I curse at myself, realizing I forgot my coat, but didn't feel like turning around to find it.
I've lived in Frosthearth since I've been born. Our small town lay just on the shoreline of the ocean. Although we live in one of the coldest regions, with the cold sea salt spray of the ocean, and ominous looking clouds, my village has always had the coziest of homes and glowing warmth, no matter how chilling the weather.
As I walked through the scattered town, the periwinkle sky drained into darkness. Candles began to blow out and children were pulled inside. Walking through the village all alone had an eerie feeling, but gave me a sense of calming, as if I had nothing to worry about except me and my thoughts. Finally at the near opposite side, I see Roy's house.
His cottage was considerably smaller, but being he only lived by himself, it was appropriate. Warm light seeped beneath his door, signaling to me that he was awake, or just fell asleep with his candles burning. That wouldn't be the first time. I decided not to give him the sword. Well... Not yet anyway.
Walking stealthily behind his house, I climbed on top of an empty barrel. I grabbed onto the thatched roof and hoisted myself on top of his cottage, as delicately as possible. I pulled myself over, right above his door, and reached down and knocked on it. When he opened it, expecting a visitor, a befuddled Roy stepped outside to glance around. Now was my moment.
"Ahhhh!" I shouted while I dropped down beside him. Roy may be an older man, but his face turned to that of a little boys who just got crossed by a hostile wolf. Holding back my laughter, I slink inside of his home, and sit on the stool by his fireplace.
"How many times must you do this to me, girl!" Roy shouted while closing the door. "I think one day you might just scare the stag right out of me!" He let out a laugh, his eyes bright but weary. "Do you bring news, child?"
"Oh yes! I'll err.. Be right back." I said as I scurried outside. The sheathed sword sat a little bit over the edge of his roof, so I jumped to grab it. Finally grabbing hold of it, I held it behind my back and walked back to Roy. Holding out the sheathe, he grabbed it from my hand, slid the sword out, clutched it in his hand and gave it a few sharp swipes through the air.
"Oh It's glorious!" Roy glows.
"Yes well make sure you know how to use that thing will ya? Ma's expecting you over at our forge soon for a match, to test out the new sword of course." I say, a wicked smile shining across my face.
I knew Roy was as close to beating my mom at a sword match than he was to regrowing his left pinky. Ever since my father's death when I was two, she didn't bury herself under wine or hide away at home, too unstable to do anything rather than sit numbly. Instead, she got stronger. She took over my father's forge, and slowly became a very skilled blacksmith. She cared for my newborn sister, Lelith, and me, and did all of this while still being able to cook, sew our garments, and keep up with the townsfolk. My mother is my hero, and is admired by many.
Realizing I've been at Roy's for longer than expected, I bid my goodbyes to him and ran home through the chilled nighttime, my hungry belly eager to be fed.
YOU ARE READING
Soul Shifters
FantasyWith a widowed mother who could craft a simple piece of iron into a dangerous weapon, and a younger sister skilled at many trades, Fiarah felt empty, not knowing where to belong. Having no fierce skills, or desire to follow her mothers trade, Fi lon...