Seifr wiped the sweat off of his brow as he took a momentary break from the bellows. The heat was oppressive inside the smithy, and working the bellows of a forge in a blacksmith as a young man did not exactly help the situation. Seifr had been "apprenticed" to the blacksmith for two months now, and he inevitably always ended up working alone. There was another apprentice old enough to work the forge, but despite his cultivation being higher, Seifr was always the last one standing. Though the youngest journeyman would occasionally help out if absolutely required.
Seifr had been an apprentice at multiple trades in his young life, never staying long enough to move up beyond the basics of the basics. The smithy was by far the most physically taxing trade he had experienced. It is not to say that Seifr was a quitter or a layabout. He did not move from trade to trade by choice, but rather his father made the decision. Seifr did not understand the point of it until recently. After all, he was just a child until recently, focused on his apprenticeship during the work day, and cultivation and education on his so called free time.
The genius of what Seifr's father was teaching him was hard work. He was not learning hard work in the sense that he needed to work hard. That was a given for any apprenticeship and practically beaten into any lazy apprentices. No, he was learning the hard work the masters of the trade were putting into their individual crafts. Seifr's father was a merchant who worked with each of these trades.
The profession of merchant was widely looked down upon, but nobody who did business with Morcai Kyian, Seifr's father, looked down upon him. Morcai had a reputation for providing what was needed, where it was needed, and when it was needed. He forced respect from the nobility and other tradesmen through his business acumen and his all around imposing manner. He was a man who stood head and shoulders above most men and exuded power just standing in place. His cultivation was above average for the layman at the 8th Stage of the Nascent Realm which also added to his general reputation. Power was the number one source of respect, and most tradesmen and commoners never surpassed even the Mortal Realm.
"Hey, Cripple! Quit daydreaming over there and get back to working the bellows." Jorin, one of the other apprentices, sneered over his broom at Seifr. He was one of the apprentices that could not last as long on the more strenuous jobs, but routinely attempted to ridicule Seifr for his lack of Spiritual Energy accumulation.
"I'm not a cripple, boy. My Spiritual Energy just has a harder time accumulating within my body." Seifr retorted as he reached up to gain a hold of the bellows again.
"Umm, yeah, that's the definition of being crippled. Are you knocked in the head too? And who are you calling boy?" Jorin almost did not catch the subtle insult.
"I'm calling you boy, boy. You put so much stock into the accumulation of Spiritual Energy, but what's the most important aspect of cultivation for us in the Common Realm? Building the body. Everyone knows that, and you're lacking." Seifr took on an almost instructional tone to refute Jorin. They had had this exact conversation countless times, but Seifr was sure it was never going to end if his Spiritual Energy did not increase noticeably.
"You think you're so tough because you have a little bit more stamina than me? You better show some respect to your betters lest you want to get whacked with this here broom!" Jorin brandished the broom like it was a staff.
"Hey! Both of you! You can continue your measuring contest on your own time. When you're in here, it's my time." Korrik, the master smith, at this point stepped in to keep his apprentices' attention where it belonged: his work. "Besides, neither of you have any proper equipment needing measuring anyway." He mumbled that last part under his breath as he turned back towards his work.
"What was that, Master?" Seifr did not quite catch what Korrik said there at the end.
"Nothing, you're both boys! Keep working." Korrik grumbled.
"Yes, Master," Both boys responded and focused on their separate tasks. The rest of the afternoon dragged on with Seifr and the other apprentices working the odd jobs, maintaining cleanliness, and observing the couple of journeymen who worked for Korrik. Korrik was the master smith. He provided the smithy, the basic tools and equipment, and mentored the journeymen, but the journeymen were in large part the actual teachers of the apprentices. Korrik employed two journeymen and three apprentices at his shop, which made him a fairly respectable smith in his own right just from what that did for his reputation.
Korrik glanced outside at the sky as it started to turn orange with the setting of the Sun. "Ok everyone wrap up what you're doing, clean up the shop, then clean up yourselves. No dinner for any sweaty boys at my wife's table." Korrik said the same thing every day to his apprentices after the work day. He put his own tools neatly away and made his exit to make himself presentable for his wife. There was no dinner for sweaty men at her table, either.
The apprentices had already begun the ritual of winding down for the day, so they quickly tidied up the shop and made for the water barrels reserved for rinsing themselves off. Jorin stepped in front of Seifr and put his hand on his shoulder, stopping him in place. It was just the three apprentices, the journeymen had left earlier. One of the perks of advancing to journeyman was letting the apprentices clean up.
"Listen here, Crip, if you don't start showing me the proper respect, especially in front of everyone else, I'll make your limbs match your core. Understand?" Jorin slowly tightened his grip on Seifr's shoulder as he made his intentions known. He was slightly taller, stockier, and nearly two full years older than the other apprentice. He especially did not take kindly to being called "boy" by this younger man.
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Seifr glanced at the hand on his shoulder and allowed a slow smile to come to his lips as he moved his gaze back up to the older apprentice. "You think you're the first bully I've had to deal with? Do you guys have some sort of handbook you read? It's always the same. Step one, establish physical dominance with a tough grip. Step two, degrade the intended subject with terrible name calling. Step three, we expect our target to be shaking in his boots by this point, but, well we don't know what happens here, because we're dumb and never see it coming." As he was saying his diatribe, Seifr slowly raised his arm to grab Jorin's hand, the whole time never losing eye contact.
Seifr was a smaller teenager than Jorin on all accounts, but once he grabbed the larger boy's hand it was with an iron grip. Jorin tried to retract his hand, but he couldn't budge it from the other's grasp. Seifr slowly bent his arm around and applied pressure to his elbow joint making Jorin follow the pressure down to the ground.
"Did you notice how easy it was for me to take control of this situation? There's nothing you can do right now, and I have all the power. It should be clear to you now that I don't just have a little bit more stamina than you." Seifr spoke in a conversational tone. "Now I'm going to be merciful and not hurt you, but don't forget that I can and will if you push your luck." Seifr let go of the other boy, and as soon as he stood up and faced back around, Seifr punched him in the face with a quick, solid jab.
Jorin grabbed his nose with both hands and glared at Seifr over the top of his fingers. "You said you were going to be merciful and not hurt me!"
"What are you talking about? I could have permanently disabled your arm. Causing you momentary pain isn't hurting you. I told you the truth. If you're going to put your hands on me, you're going to get punished. What kind of a punishment is a light warning that you wouldn't even believe has any teeth behind it?" Seifr smirked at the other boy and moved to the water barrel. The third apprentice was just a boy at nine years old, and he stayed out of the business of the older teenagers.
Jorin clutched his nose and glared daggers as Seifr's back. He would have to tell his brother about this incident, then he would see who had the last laugh. But why spoil the surprise and tell him that he was going to get someone else to exact revenge for him? He kept quiet and waited for his turn at the barrel.
Seifr actually understood that he had a significant chance of reprisal from someone else for his actions today, but he had been through this several times already with his other "apprenticeships." Taking a few hits from someone slightly more powerful was not going to cause any lasting damage, and generally he would become friendlier with the other apprentices after it was all said and done. Not always, but more often than not that was the case.
Seifr quickly rinsed his body of sweat, grime, and soot and made his way to the outer stairs at the back of the shop that led to the apprentice quarters. Master Korrik and his family occupied the dwelling attached to the back of the smithy separated by a small courtyard on the bottom floor, and the apprentices shared a bunk room with partitions set up for privacy on the second floor. He made his way to his armoire that held his casual clothes and changed into something presentable for dinner. The youngest apprentice would take care of washing the work clothes as part of his duties each day, because he was too small to work the bellows.
After making his appearance tidy, Seifr joined the other two in heading towards the dining room. Part of the apprenticeship agreement was providing room and board and two meals a day to the young trainees. Pamela, Korrik's wife, was happy to cook for everyone. They were not quite wealthy enough to afford any kind of servants or staff, but she always maintained a strict cleanliness code for everyone who ate at her table, husband and children included. Their children were older now, with one gaining acceptance into the local cultivator sect, the Blue Vine Sect, and the other having a family of his own, that Pamela no longer had to cook for quite as many people as she did in the past.
The conversation at the dinner table was cordial, as always, but with a noticeable lack of communication from Jorin. Korrik noticed the redness and minor swelling of his nose, but did not say anything as they were being civil to each other at the table. As the meal was winding down, he focused his attention on Seifr.
"So my wife tells me we received communication from your father today. Your father has called you home, and it would appear that our arrangement is ended prematurely. It has been a pleasure working with such a hard working young man such as yourself, and I'm sure you'll do great things with whatever you and your father have planned for your future. I know this was a little more sudden than you were expecting, but we both knew coming into the deal that it wasn't going to be a permanent thing. We'll provide you a meal in the morning, and then you can be on your way home." Korrik spoke over his steepled fingers.
Seifr was taken aback by the sudden proclamation and was stunned for a moment with his hand half way to his mouth with his last bite of food. He set his utensil down, stood up and gave a short bow, "Yes sir, and ma'am. Thank you for having me and teaching me valuable lessons." With that he sat back down and popped his last bite into his mouth. The dinner ended and each of them went their separate ways.
Seifr did not have much to pack up, as his clothes were generally always arranged in the armoire and chest at his bunk, but he was sure that he still was not going to accomplish much with his cultivation this night.