CHAPTER 3 - A BANQUET SHAKEDOWN

CHAPTER 3.1:

Five months later

I woke up before the crack of dawn. I slowly opened my eyes and tried to take deep breaths as both my arms and lower back throbbed.

It’s been a few months since I’ve started apprenticing for Master Leery but I just can’t get used to the strain.

I looked at my calloused fingers and tried to flex them for some sort of sensation.

I closed my eyes and recalled the feeling of channeling mana into metal and the rhythmic pounding of the hammer.

A few minutes passed before I rose up and changed my clothes. At the window I saw the sun slowly peeking out of the horizon.

Darn it, I’m going to be late.

I quickly grabbed my bag and nimbly crept along the hallway. I made sure to avoid the creaky floorboards to not wake up Abram and Paul.

I leapt down the last five steps of the stairs and bounded out the door.

I ran through alleyways until I arrived at the Heavenly Loaf. The waft of fresh bread made my stomach churn.

The sign in the front still said closed, but I could see Mister Fleur bringing out trays of bread from the kitchen.

He noticed me and he immediately scowled.

I gave him a warm smile in return.

He put down the tray and walked over to unlock the door.

“Good morning Mister Fleur!” I said energetically.

“Hmph.” He grunted while turning his back to me. “What is it?”

“May I have the usual two donuts please.” I placed twenty bronze coins on the table.

He turned to me with a small bag in hand already. “Eat them while they’re hot, kid. I added a bit more powdered sugar than last time. For old Leery’s sweet tooth.”

“Thank you, sir!” I said as I gave him a small bow. To the side I saw Mister Fleur’s daughter, Belle. I waved at her. “Good morning Belle!”

The shy girl waved at me while hiding behind the door frame.

“On with you now, Belle. You have chores.” Mister Fleur reminded her.

She squeaked and ran back upstairs.

Mister Fleur turned to me and scowled. “Why are you still here, boy?”

“Oh! Right right, thanks again for the donuts Mister Fleur! See you tomorrow.” I said as I rushed out of the store.

I ran along main street, past the market, and into an alleyway where the blacksmith was located.

The sign on the front read, “Falchion’s Forge.”

I crept to the backdoor and slowly turned the handle. I poked my head in to see if the coast was clear, but I was immediately hit on the face with a dirty rag.

“You’re late.” Master Leery growled.

“Sorry, Master Leery.” I said keeping my head down and closing the door behind me.

Master Leery snapped his head towards me and glared.

“Uh… I mean, Guy.” I corrected myself.

It’s so awkward calling him that.

“I got you a donut. Mister Fleur added more sugar to this one.” I held up the small bag.

I could see a flash of excitement on his face before it went back to its permanent scowl.

“Ain’t no time for pastries, lad. Get on it.” He barked.

I pulled at a donut from the bag and kept it in my mouth as I changed into work clothes. Behind me, I heard the rustle of the paper bag and I was careful not to look in that direction.

I quickly shoved the rest of the donut in my mouth and grabbed the chest filled with the small blades I was practicing on yesterday.

I brought them near the blazing hot forge.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

I turned to Guy who still had white powder all over his beard from devouring his favorite treat. I stifled a laugh. “Same as yesterday?” I asked.

“Aye.” He replied.

I dumped the small blades into the crucible and placed it inside the forge.

I held out my hand and concentrated. I imagined a small flame growing bigger and brighter with every breath. The forge started glowing and humming and the heat rose even higher. The blades began liquifying.

I grabbed the tongs nearby and took the crucible out. I carefully poured out the liquid metal into the cast iron mold for a small blade. When the mold was full, I returned the burning crucible to the forge.

I imagined a small flame again, but this time it was encased in a glass. I kept it at a steady temperature. My left hand glowed red and I picked up the blade that had already hardened.

I could feel my skin burning from the touch of the blade and I winced in pain.

I held it steady as I raised a hammer with my right hand.

*Clang clang*

I started pounding the blade in a rhythmic manner while continuously channeling mana into it with my left hand.

When I was satisfied with the shape, I stopped channeling mana and I quenched the blade in the bucket of water nearby. The resulting steam tickled my nose.

I inspected the hardened blade and showed it to Guy.

He took the blade and examined it closely.

He shook his head. “The hammering was uneven. See the nicks on the side of the blade? You also didn’t channel enough mana. It’s at less than 60% of its capacity. When you imagine the flame to temper the blade, you have to make sure that the temperature is about the same as when you first light up the forge. That will ignite the magic ore inside the alloy and make it receptive to your channeling. Again.”

I gritted my teeth, picked up the crucible, and tried again.

A number of hours and several rejected blades later, Guy told me to go home.

I closed the door behind me and started stretching. My hands were red and felt raw. I soaked them in the tub of water in the alleyway to cool them down before heading back home.

I walked leisurely through the streets trying to think about all the mistakes I made and how I could improve on them.

I need more practice. I’ll definitely make that old man acknowledge me.

Before long, I was in front of the store. I looked up at the sign which only had a stylized “F” on it.

I went in to see five people perusing the items on the shelves and Abram finalizing a purchase from a customer.

He saw me and waved to call me over. “Hurry and clean up, son.”

“Right, dad!” I hurried to the back room and propped my bag on the table. I washed up and put on a small white vest that had the same stylized “F” embroidered on the left lapel.

I came out and approached the nearest customer. “Welcome to the Finch Emporium. How might I help you, madam?”

The woman appeared startled by my sudden appearance. “Um. Yes. I’m looking for medicinal bulb sprouts. You don’t seem to have any.”

I shook my head. “I’m very sorry, madam. We do stock medicinal bulb sprouts but we currently only have the herbs displayed on the shelves available. But we are expecting a shipment tomorrow from the Capital. Would you like us to reserve you some?”

“Oh, yes. That would be fine. I need at least eight bulbs of at least Grade C quality.” The lady replied.

I wrote down her request on the order slip and handed it to her. “Understood! Please present this to the front and kindly leave your name.”

“Thank you, young man.” The lady smiled and proceeded to the front where Abram was.

I turned to the next customer and started assisting them.

It was way past noon when Abram closed the shop for lunch. At that point, Paul had already arrived from attending classes in the academy.

“I’m home…” Paul said wearily as he entered the kitchen where Abram and I were cooking.

“Welcome home big bro.” I greeted.

He waved at me and started washing his hands in the sink.

“Hello, son. Another tough day?” Abram remarked while stirring the pot.

“Yeah… Mistress Yuna gave us all another quiz on the early history of the kingdom. On top of that we have to submit a ten page paper on the genealogy of our ancestors.” Paul sighed. “Uh… By the way dad, I got into an argument with her about the nobles’ revolt a century ago. She asked me to give you this.” Paul had a sheepish look as he handed Abram a piece of paper.

Abram wiped his hands on his apron and opened the note. He shook his head. “She wants to see me again to discuss your attitude, son. This is the sixth time this month. Can you maybe ease up on trying to lecture your own professors?”

Paul scoffed. “Pft. Well, then. They should read up on their own lesson plans. Yesterday, she said the nobles took arms because of their desire to overthrow the Royal Family. But I RESPECTFULLY reminded her that it was actually because of the Royal Family’s misguided decree to restrict the movement of food supplies across the great cities during the famine. She insisted I was wrong so I brought my copy of ‘The Kingdom’s Tragic History’ to class today. She said I was beyond cheeky and gave us all a quiz.”

Abram sunk his face into his hands. “Son. Being right all the time isn’t the most important thing.”

Paul looked indignant. “But pa. They’re teaching kids blatant propaganda! If no one says anything, then we’re letting them brainwash a whole generation. Sure it wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the whole truth. And it starts with just one or two ‘innocuous facts’, but where does it end?” Paul started pacing angrily. “That’s exactly what we’ve been fighting here. Even after we got the permit, it took two months before we even had a customer because of the lies the people in this city have been told about the Roost! It’s not right!”

Abram approached Paul and pulled him into a hug. “Son. It’s okay. I know you’re right… But you have to learn to pick your battles. Attacking head on isn’t always the best strategy. What do I always say about dealing with hard customers?”

“Butter them up, give them a push and pull, then make them think they’re getting a steal.” Paul replied.

“Exactly right.” Abram smiled at Paul as he cupped his face. “I’m sure you can find a more diplomatic way of ‘correcting’ your teachers.” Abram paused and looked at Paul thoughtfully. “Your mother, bless her soul, was exactly the same. You got your fire and your brains from her, thankfully. But you have to be smart about how you use those gifts of yours. ”

Paul looked down. “Okay… sorry, dad. I’ll try to tone it down.”

I approached Paul and gave him a hug.

“Thanks, Adi. I’m really okay now.” Paul said as he wiped his face.

“Alright boys. Let’s finish cooking and get back to work. We’re expecting a lot of customers in the afternoon.” Abram said with a cheery smile as he went back to stirring the pot.