Cassia The Lost

Chapter 2: Secrets

Teran arrived back at his shop with no time to spare, the final peal of the mid-day bell vibrated in the air as he slipped his blacksmith apron over his head and joined Master Harfor next to the forge. Being a man of few words, Master Harfor grunted at him and continued to swing his hammer onto the glowing chunk of metal in front of him. Teran waited patiently until the metal was pounded into the shape of a horseshoe. A second grunt from the blacksmith and Teran grasped the horseshoe with a pair of tongs and thrust it into the bucket of brackish water beside the anvil. As Teran took over, Master Harfor removed his apron and headed to take his mid-day break.

The blacksmith was gone for longer than expected; which left Teran alone with his thoughts and his work into the evening hours. By the time Master Harfor returned, it was nearly time for the work day to end. Teran had completed the order for horseshoes and had started on the work-order that was scheduled for the next day. He knew this would please the big man and he couldn't help but swell a little with pride as the blacksmith joined him.

"Tomorrow's order?" Master Harfor raised an eyebrow.

"Yes sir." Teran replied.

The big man grunted and slowly walked around the forge to look at the bucket of horseshoes that Teran had completed. After a brief inspection a rare half-smile crept onto the man's face.

"You did good boy." He paused for a moment and repeated, "You did good."

Teran wanted to shout with exuberance. Master Harfor had actually given him a compliment! Instead of letting out a shout for joy, he decided to ask about something that had been bothering him.

"Master Harfor?"

"Yes?" The big man replied as he used a cloth to wipe down his tools.

"Why does the king care for the Lost?"

"Lost people are very rare. Our little Cassia is the first in my lifetime. They cannot care for themselves." Master Harfor replied.

"Yes, but why does the king care for the Lost?"

Master Harfor's annoyance was already seeping into his tone, "It has always been the tradition for the Lost to find refuge at the King's Shelter with the orphans."

Teran clarified, "I mean, there are lots of crazy people who need help, what is different about the Lost? Is it because the king's daughter is Lost?"

"Once someone becomes Lost they can no Longer be a princess; they can no longer be the King's daughter." Teran could feel the blacksmith's frustration at being asked questions. To his surprise, the blacksmith continued, "No. He does not favor little Cassia. The kingdom has always provided for the Lost at the King's Shelter."

Teran had tried several times to explain the power that Cassia had used that night, but he couldn't seem to get anyone to believe him. Since then, his questions had been pushed aside. He gathered his resolve and pressed forward with his previous question, "Why provide for the Lost? What sets them apart?"

The big man was about to dismiss Teran and his questions out of annoyance. People didn't like to talk about the Lost, and the gruff blacksmith liked talking about them even less. His calloused hand, scarred by years of work with molten metals, was in the act of making a shooing motion towards Teran when the voice of his wife preceded her into the room.

"Superstition mostly," She said, carrying a basket of food in both arms as she entered. "It is said to be good luck for a city to shelter one of the Lost."