10 Minute Tales, Part 2

Sep 8 - The All-Cutting Blade

He grinned as he sat up, wiping his brow. This blade was one of his finest. He let it cool by placing it in a trough of water. Hissing steam leapt out, objecting to the blade's intrusion. He let it go, expecting the usual clunk of the blade on the bottom as he turned around. He wasn't expecting the odd swoosh, nor the rush of water that now threatened to flood his entire forge out. He was able to catch the blade before it sliced through the floor, panting a little as the water flowed through the open door.

"You're going to be trouble, aren't you?" he said with a smile, straightening up again. "Well, at least I know you work." he looked at the trough, his smile changing from a joyful one to a more thoughtful one. "That trough was solid stone and you haven't even cooled yet." he sighed, putting it down in the trough - more careful this time, laying it perfectly flat. He shoved a brick under the gap and filled it with water again, a good many trips to the well and back. By the time he had filled the trough up again, the sword had cooled.

"Dear?" his wife asked, peeking in. "Oh, goodness, this floor is soaked through! What did you do?"

"My new blade pierced the trough."

"Pierced the trough? That's solid stone!" She put one hand on her hip, disbelieving.

"Yes, that's what I told it." he replied with a chuckle. She just tutted and rolled her eyes.

"I hope you'll be the one cleaning this up."

"Yes, yes, don't worry, I will be." he commented with a smile. "I'll just finish this new weapon first."

"Of course you will." she huffed, turning and marching off. He shook his head, still smiling - this time, his smile was optimistic.

-----

He had managed to secure a beautiful hilt to the blade, making a wonderful sword. It had retained its cutting abilities, though, and he hadn't found a scabbard to give it due justice. He needed it to have jewels, he knew that much, but he couldn't afford them. He considered making the sword a gift to the king, but they would never accept it without a scabbard. He had put it in a scabbard that was too large for it - it rattled in its scabbard, but it would hold for now. He walked to the castle, blade proudly held in his hands. He approached the gate, and the guards stood before it.

"Morning, Smith." one greeted. "What have you got there?"

"A gift for his highness. A new sword, before you ask."

"Another one? What's special about this one?"

"Well..." he looked around, frowning in thought. "I need something I can cut. Something big."

"What?" the other guard blinked, surprised. "I mean... how big are we talking?"

"How big do you want?" he grinned confidently. "This sword cut through the trough I cool my creations in."

"Wait, what?"

"Yes, and that was before I'd even finished cooling it. It's been sharpened since."

"I don't believe that at all."

"Well, there should be a pebble around somewhere... ah." he picked one up, stepping back and drawing the blade. "I hope you're ready for something ridiculous?"

"Ready as I'm going to be." one huffed, waiting. The sword passed through the stone as easily as water. The guards straightened up, caught by surprise.