The iron glowed orange, as the charcoal hissed and crackled below.
"Alright Thomas, it’s now time, it has passed into steel," I said.
Thomas ran to the casting pot, struggling to place the heavy mold below the pouring spot. Different metals that had dried were sprinkled all around the area. Picking up the large iron pole, that latched into the casting pot, I helped him lift it upwards to dispense the liquidized steel into the mold, since he was not tall enough. It filled the mold, with a little extra to spare, surrounding the softer iron in the core. Using the iron pole, we laced the steel around the softer iron. This proved it would take a greater flex, but still withhold anything it met.
As it cooled, we began to forge the blade. This was only the beginning; we still had our work cut out for us. We set the now cooled block in between a coal, and an anvil. Letting it heat up once more to glow orange again, we then used the tongs to grip it, and repeatedly used a variety of hammers to shape it how we wanted, while constantly reheating the metal. It must be perfect, it was Thomas's first sword, so we had to make it smaller than my usual order to match his size.
"Reheat! Reheat! Get the sides! Don't forget the edges. That is vital!" I yelled. Thomas looked up at me, obviously worn already, "Don't worry son, you will get the hang of it soon, it takes time, practice, and patience." I cast him a smile, one of a proud father. He looked just like me, blue eyes, brown hair, chiseled jaw, and he was in the first stages of becoming a lean young man as well.
I sat, letting Thomas work on his project, he was really into it, it gave me such a warm feeling to see him so excited about this. I noticed how neat and precise he had to be or it had to be redone. Which could be a great quality if I helped him hone in on it correctly. I occasionally glanced up at him as I went over another customer's order. Sam lay in the corner, his black ears perked, and head rose as the front door opened; he made a great shop dog. He was a black wolf with a twinge of grey, that my friend brought me from another part of the world when he was a puppy. He was a payment to the sword I had made him.
He made a tiny whimper and wagged his tail as Emily entered the shop. Her red hair curled past her shoulder blades, with a daisy hanging from her ear. Her green eyes gazed and observed the room with intense curiosity and innocence. She was a striking resemblance of her mother at age five.
Thomas and I looked up from our tasks and acknowledged Emily.
"Morning Emmy," I said as a smile laced my face. Seeing my daughter have interest in my line of work was amazing. Not only was Thomas picking up my trade, but Emily would as well eventually. It made me exuberant.
"What are you doing here?" Thomas asked in a snotty tone. They have been butting heads lately, I really hoped that they would outgrow it soon.
I cut him a glance meant to break steel, causing Thomas to lower his eyes to the floor. Ignoring Thomas, she walked up closer to catch a glimpse of the sword we were working on.
I patted my knee, "Come here angel, I will show you what we are working on." I boosted her onto my knee. "See the end? Your mother makes the leather swathes for these. Remember feeling the animal skin?"
She nodded her head, "Yes daddy." Her voice was so tiny, it melted my heart.
"See what your brother is holding?" She nodded her head, "That is a hammer; it is what we use to mold this metal into shape, to make the swords."
She held her arms to grab the hammer from Thomas, Thomas hid the hammer behind his back and took a step backwards, "Daddy?"
"Yes Angel?"
"Can I make a swuerd?" she asked, not able to pronounce 'sword' correctly. She pointed awkwardly to the sword we were working on.
"No angel, you are not old enough yet, when you grow to be seven like Thomas, I will teach you everything there is to know about making a sword."
She pouted, clearly upset, I grabbed her sides, tickling her, forcing out a laugh and I placed her on the ground.
"But if you are lucky, you can ask your mother to make the leather handles for the hilts, and she will show you." Her mother was an expert at that, her artwork was unique, and she could do family crests like it was no big deal.
"Okay!" she said more than enthused.
"It’s all because you are a girl!" Thomas blurted out, sticking out his tongue at her.
Emily turned to look at his sneering face, bringing her face into a growl. She punched him as hard as she could in the stomach, he grunted, not expecting the quick blow. All the air left his lungs as he doubled over gasping for a breath. Sam got up, trying to make sure they were okay. Emily proceeded to kick Thomas on the floor.
I grabbed her wrist and yanked her away, "Woah woah woah. Both of you need to KNOCK it off!" I growled, even though I melted inside. I was very proud of both of my children; Emily for standing up for herself and showing motivation, and Thomas for learning his trait quickly as if he were born to do it. “You both need to look out for each other, one day you will be all the family you have!” They looked at each other more apologetic.
Everyone came from all around the world to see me, and have a sword made. I was the best from all around, and I treated each customer and person with respect. This traveled through word of mouth, quickly. Many men came to me to learn, but I sent them packing, I would only teach my children, except, there was one, now ten years of age, in the town next to us. He went by the name of Albert Dyer, I had already taught this surprisingly gifted child everything I knew about making a sword.
"Both of you, go check to see how your mother is doing and if she needs help," I said. It proved to be very convenient having the shop directly next to our cottage. We owned 120 acres; our children were able to play freely with Sam of course as a protector without worry of the other wolves and other things getting to them.
"But father, I thought we were going to finish the sword today." Thomas said frowning.
"We will tomorrow son. Clean up your attitude by supper time as well."
They both walked off pouting; I shook my head, "Kids," I muttered under my breath, yet a smile lit my face. I couldn’t wait to see how these little people would grow up. My family was truly my everything, without them, I would be in a very dark place.
******************
Thank you so much for reading my lovelies❤️
Please don't forget to vote and comment if you like the chapter.
And if you like it, please add it to your library or give me a follow, I'll be sure to update several times weekly for you. 😁👍
What do my readers think so far?
Thank you ❤️❤️❤️
I made Nicholas' portrait at the top for my lovelies❤️
YOU ARE READING
Black Tide Rising
FantasyA family curse that no one truly believed in, was passed down each generation as a story to scare one another. Until late one twelfth century night, a soul was taken by the devil himself. It was no ordinary soul and no ordinary man. He was one of th...
