The sun beat down on Ciaran as he lay comfortably on the grassy gnoll. The boy would have been even more comfortable if people didn’t keep coming up to him. Ciaran opened one eye and looked to the approaching boy before closing it again.

Ciaran’s eyes were shut hard and his hands beneath his head slowly crossed followed by his toes. Unfortunately for Ciaran this had no effect, and he was soon assaulted by the cheery voice of his visitor.

“Hey Ciaran, your dad’s a baron, right?”

“No but why.”

Ciaran’s kept his eyes shut and while his fingers were no longer crossed his toes were still in knots.

“Oh, I was just wondering, it really seems like he should be a noble though. Doesn’t he control the entire region already?”

“it’s complicated.”

“Oh, how so?”

The unwanted visitor made themself welcome in Ciaran’s heart as the question tugged at a certain muscle at the core of Ciaran’s brain. Ciaran tried to resist, but the urge to talk overcame. Eager ears were a rare commodity, and Ciaran was going to take this opportunity.

“Well, you see, the imperial court puts out am auction for lower positions such as a baron. The highest bidder wins the title, this region was actually quite cheap given how many problems there are. Anyway, after the purchase of the title is confirmed, the purchaser goes under review…”

“Why aren’t they a baron after they buy the title?”

Ciaran didn’t mind the interruption as it gave him a reason to use more detail, but he did wonder how long until the boy would give up.

“in the case of a commoner buying the title the review period is quite long apparently. If I remember correctly the nobles around the area must unanimously vote to allow the appointment of the new noble. There must be some family connection to nobility within five generations, there must be no criminal record for any family member within six generations, and a while bunch of other conditions.”

“Wow, that’s neat,”

The enthusiasm radiating off the boy was strange, Ciaran opened his eyes and looked long and hard at the boy.

“Where did you say you were from again?”

“oh yeah you forget a lot, my bad. I live in the new church a few towns over.”

Ciaran slowly got up and stretched his arms.

“Right, of course, nothing wrong with a bad memory, anyway I have something to do so I will see you later, have a great day, don’t catch a cold.”

Ciaran did rather swell at hiding his fear but rather poorly at hiding everything else. as Ciaran walked off into the distance the boy he left behind muttered under his breath.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?”

There was no one to answer, and soon there was no one at all.

Weird things just kept happening to Ciaran, he felt like screaming, but that wasn’t what he truly wanted. Ciaran passed through town and headed into the manor. his class had a few days off so the academy could organise classes since the trip achieved none of it’s desired goals… at all

Back at the workshop away from the oddities of the outside world the sound of a hammer rang out. The reverberating of the iron that came with every rhythmic strike was music to Ciaran’s ears, but also a source of envy.

The child looked on as Mr Burton deftly struck a rod of iron and then cut off the result. The small, tapered strips of metal then fell to a trough of water below the anvil. Upon closer inspection one would notice the bottom of the trough to be completely covered in them. The man was making nails, and Ciaran?

Ciaran was supposed to be engraving one of the many patterns that he had to memorise onto a chunk of metal. Ciaran didn’t know what the metal was, but it was shiny. Mr Burton hadn’t looked up from his work, he seemed enraptured by it, but the boy decided it best to resume his work.

Ciaran was almost certain that Mr Burton could hear him cease his blows, but Mr Burton was too busy to nag. Ciaran wondered why the man worked alone and how he managed to keep up with running such a large shop. Mr Burton even had enough space for several blacksmiths.

Ciaran took his tiny hammer and struck what looked like a mini chisel. The funny point and all the weird angles he had to have his hands kept Ciaran White occupied… when he wasn’t distracted of course.

Before cutting into the metal Ciaran had to draw out the pattern on a thin piece of fabric that he then checked up against the original. When he finally got the piece close enough, he set down the fabric on the metal and used a weird red liquid Mr Burton had and put it along the lines on the fabric. After waiting a while, the red had stained the metal.

There were plenty of little spikes that strayed from the lines. These little spikes caused the boy’s heart to drop a little, but no matter, he carried on.

The sun slowly disappeared, and it was Ciaran’s turn to get stared at. Mr Burton stood with his arms crossed looking at the boy. Mr Burton sighed at the boy and muttered under his breath.

“I won’t get old I said, I don’t like kids I said, I won’t leave the city I said… how foolish of young me to think I could keep the party up for so long.”

Mr Burton’s words pulled Ciaran out of his trance and the boy locked eyes with the man.

“What did you say?”

Mr Burton ignored both the rudeness of the question and the question itself. Taking advantage of Ciaran’s dazed state, he asked.

“So, how are you getting along.”

“I think I am doing it ok, but it doesn’t look like it to me.”

“It will be fine, you just started. It’s good to have more confidence in your work, just never think it is perfect.”

“Why shouldn’t I think it’s perfect?”

“Boy, I am old enough to have seen some… interesting, things. There is no true perfection that we can achieve, we should always strive for, better, not perfect. You will also be a happier man if you don’t put your hubris on display.”

“what’s hubris?”

“I find it quite strange at times how you are a child. You are just a ball of knowledge, but you don’t know the simplest of things… it’s you are too confident, overly so. it is confidence so strong that even a master smith in a great city plagued by it will be brough to his lowest.”

“Neat.”

“Neat huh, that is indeed one way to see it… anyway pack up time. I am sure your mother wants to see you in time for dinner, wouldn’t want to disappoint her.”

A squeal escaped Ciaran as he scurried away packing up his tools as he went. The boy left out a few bits here and there, but Mr Burton didn’t mind. The man looked rather fondly at the now empty room.

“Maybe if I had kept my mouth shut, I would have had one of my own by now…”

Mr burton took a moment of silence and a a sigh before moving to close up the smithy.

“Alas the family wants a new lord, and I got sent to go poke that old hag’s daughter.”