Rebirth

1. Elias Steele

Marewood, Gandalwell (1598)

Dear Journal,
                       I've created 10 new pieces of jewelry that are, if I do say so myself, worthy of royalty. The ores are always difficult to source but the end result is always brilliant. I can only hope I will acquire a buyer down by the market today. It is my monumental dream to be able to create prodigious pieces worthy of the King and Queen's affluence and power. I pray today brings good fortune. I truly believe I deserve it.
- 𝓔. 𝓢𝓽𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓮
June 4, 1598

"What are you doing up so early darling?" Genevieve asked her husband.

She liked to pretend it was the sound of him scribbling in his journal that had awoken her and not the drunken chatter of the men in the tavern above their small cottage room.

"Just getting an early start." Elias said, closing his journal and stashing it under the loose floorboard beneath their bed. It creaked as his roughly textured hands grazed its surface, a result of his hard work in the sword shop.

Standing tall at six foot one, Elias was of glorious build as his chiseled arms were a swollen with muscles from lugging heavy metals. His chestnut brown hair and green eyes did well to accentuate his slender face, taking the attention away from his crooked nose.

As a talented silversmith in his home town, he wore 3 silver rings, 1 on his left hand and 2 on his right as a means to advertise his undeniable skill. At only 20 years old, he had already created a name for himself by debatably becoming the best swordsmith in Gandalwell. Though, he preferred to be called a silversmith since that was where his true passion resided.

His father had taught him the trade of becoming a swordsmith, it being passed down in his family for generations but Elias had taken the skill to another level.

He had developed a knack for creating jewelry, despite Marewood not being the ideal place for his craft. As selling his pieces proved difficult in the ascertainment of money to provide for his wife and himself, he had to resort to his father's more tedious line of work. That is— creating swords. It was not a surprise however, that he did this in a perfunctory manner.

His swords were used by the kingsguard themselves under the pretense that they were created by Randall of Odifell, another swordsmith two towns over who was popular with the nobles and upperclassmen. Unknown to everyone except the sword shop of Marewood, the swords Randall created for royalty were bought from Elias and his men as their skills were simply more exceptional.

Genevieve, his wife, was seventeen years old when he met the blonde haired maiden two years ago. He had fallen inlove with her after hearing her sing at a tavern across town and continued to show his undying fondness through the creation of rings which garnered attention everywhere she went.

She had beautiful diamanté necklaces that had to be left at home so thieves would not harm her. Her rings would glisten in the dim light of the oil lamps in their small cottage, creating shadows on the walls that Elias often made fun of. He would spend his last on acquiring the materials to craft his jewelry but he'd often describe Genevieve as a rare bijoux, beautiful and dazzling; his pride and joy.

"Will you be back early today?" she asked hopefully. He often took Saturdays off to go to market and sell
his jewelry, or rather attempt to. He rarely got any sales but he had plenty of admirers and that alone was enough to fill not the pockets of his trousers but that of his heart.

"I will try." he promised, kissing her forehead before dressing in his tattered white linen shirt and loose fitted trousers.

"You always look so beautiful in the mornings." he admired, lustfully regarding her naked body as she covered it with the bed sheets.