Sentria: The War for Askeran (Book 3)

Chapter Six: The Forge

I woke up and left, taking a loaf of pumpernickel to eat along the way. They requested that I should stay and to have a proper meal, but I refused. The couple, Daniel and Sharla, were deeply religious and felt that they would insult Muros, but I told them that they had been more than generous for them to receive favor.

I needed to focus on the mission at hand and currently, that was finding a sword.

The swordsmith shop was four blocks away and from Daniel's description, he was quite the talented swordsmith. I went inside the shop quietly. It was dark and had steel anvils, blacksmith tongs, heavy hammers, burners, blowers, and various styles of swords throughout the land hung on the wall. Lorian blades were slim and sophisticated, Sentrian longswords were strong and durable, and the Stargonian broadswords were thick and powerful. Even from a distance, I could appreciate the craftsmanship of the maker.

"And who are you?" a sharp voice asked from behind me. I turned around and saw a bearded and round man wearing a yellow tunic tucked into his black pants. His face looked like it should be jolly, with his rosy cheeks, but his mouth refused to smile.

"Hello," I said, walking towards him. "I am deeply sorry, but I am in need of a blade. I am a fighter in the war—"

"So, you are a knight?" he asked.

"No," I said sourly. "I am not."

"Unfortunately for you, I only make swords for knights." The man went to his jars of powder that were stacked on the wall.

"I can work for you," I said, "I can earn enough to purchase a sword."

"You're more than welcome to work for me," he said, "but as I said, I do not make swords for commoners. My work is only given to knights, not little common boys wishing to play pretend."

"This isn't for play." I tried to tame my tongue, lest my anger get the better of me. "Please. I am not unfamiliar with swords. I have fought with them many times. I need to protect the southern realms and I cannot do so without a sword."

"There are other ways to help the realm," he said, without turning to look at me. "You can assist with medicines and you can be a scout, running back and forth between encampments to deliver messages. My swords are only meant for knights."

"I am a knight!" I said, unable to stop myself. "I have saved this realm from certain destruction. I climbed the Black Tower and fought the Oblivion Witch, and I stopped Kilgore from breaking through the eastern side of Askeran in the Mountainlands. I may not have been knighted, but I am worthy of the title of knight!"

The man turned around and snickered, "I thought that was you, but I couldn't be sure." The man kneeled and bowed his head. "It is an honor to meet you, High Prince Darren."

I stood there, dumbfounded and unsure how he had known of my identity. Perhaps he had seen me before and remembered my face.

"My name is Calder Stewart." Calder stood up and approached. "I don't have magical powers if that's what you're thinking. I could tell by your walk and how you carry yourself. You're not just a royal, you're a high royal. Dress up however you'd like, there's no changing who you are. I heard the story of your plight in the clouds and saw the fireballs myself. People made up counterfeit stories about it. People can only handle so much,  but I am a forger and I see all the properties that make up a person. I knew you saved us, you and the relic boy, and you have my thanks. I will make you a sword, but for someone such as yourself, it will have to be something special. My finest sword yet."

"Thank you, kind sir," I replied, nearly speechless. "I do hope that you will keep my secret private. I am on yet another mission that requires anonymity."

"I will abide, High Prince," said Calder, and he set about making my sword.

To my surprise, he used a variety of steels formed from iron and processed them by cold drawing. It was heated in the forge and shaped into the proper form of a sword with the bangs of his hammer, like Takken banging on the clouds to create the sound of thunder. Then, he annealed it, softening the material so that he could grind it into the final shape. He told me that it would take a day for it to cool, and I knew that this sword maker was like none other I had ever seen, the way that he took his time with it was as if every movement of this was a part of the process. That was just as important as the materials themselves.

I thanked Calder and returned to the house and they told me that Eldwyn had taken to the hills to meditate. I was tempted to go to him, but I knew that it was best to give him his space and I helped the couple with their household chores.

The next day, I returned to Calder's swordsmith shop and the metal had cooled enough for the next step of the process. Calder grinded the sword down, edging it to a point, then heated it up and placed it into a quenching tank. This cooling process was much quicker, and it was soft and brittle afterward. It had to be heated and quenched again at lower temperatures, back and forth, until it was just right. Late that night, Calder had finally gotten it to the state that he wanted it to be and looked upon his work proudly.

"Ah," he said, as if he had just quenched his thirst. "It's perfect. My best work yet." He held the blade, which didn't yet have a pommel or a hilt, and held it flat out to me. "Do you know why I had you watch me?"

"To show me the process," I said straightly.

"Yes, and more than that. Because I wanted to show you that it's not just about making the strongest or sharpest sword. That has little to do with it. Forging a sword is a lot like life. We are hit and bent and broken and scorched and frozen and still, we survive. It actually makes us better. I can tell a knight's characteristics by the sword, and you are made out of the strongest metal I've ever seen. Not since Knight Ral have I been so impressed."

"Knight Ral?" I gasped. 

"The very same, I made his sword when he was a young knight. He had a hard life, though you wouldn't know it by his disposition. Swords are spiritual things, High Prince Darren. Never forget that."

I couldn't believe what I had heard. It was as if fate had brought me here. Perhaps from above, Knight Ral was looking down on me, guiding my path in mysterious and unforeseen ways. More than anything, I hoped that this meant that he had forgiven me for the events that led to his death. I prayed to Aksum that that was true.