Oslo awakens in his room by himself and stares at the ceiling.

Have the rafters always been this pretty? Everything just seems so... More. Like my whole life I've been colorblind up until this very moment and now I can see. Really see, the colors and shapes and everything in between.

"Ozlo, are you up yet boy? Breakfast is ready and we have a big day ahead of us."

"Yes Master Burgin, I'll be down in just a minute."

"Good, good..."

"Well, no time like the present, I better start my day."

Ozlo dresses and heads downstairs to meet Burgin for breakfast. "Ah, here lad, bacon, eggs, and bread. All of fresh, all of it greasy, and all of it hot. You'll need your strength about you if you're to learn."

"What am I learning today Burgin?"

"I've no clue boy, but I do know what I'm going to try and teach you. First off, how to hold a hammer properly, then we'll go from there."

"Yes Master Burgin."

"Enough with all this yes and no crap, listen and only interrupt when you have a question. Understood?"

"Y-" Ozlo begins to speak but stops himself mid sentence.

"There's a smart lad, you're already learning. Now finish up your breakfast and join me in the smithy."

Burgin heads out of the room and begins to warm the forge and gather some various tools while Ozlo wolfs down his breakfast.

Ozlo savors his food thinking "Food has never quite tasted so good. I mean, it's greasy, Burgin wasn't joking about that. But greasy is good. Well, sometimes greasy is good, a greasy slab of meat, eggs, bread, a greasy cup of juice would probably be horrible. Crap. I better stop all this thinking and finish my food. Burgin is waiting after all."

Ozlo finishes up and joins Burgin. "Aye lad, finally decided to join me have you?"

"Yes."

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"Good, good. Now I'm going to go a bit faster. You remember that cold forging stuff I taught you aye?"

"Yeah-"

"Rhetorical question boy. And before you ask Rhetorical means you don't answer it, you just think about it. Here, come look at the way I'm holding the hammer."

Ozlo takes a step forward and follows Burgin's motions with his eyes while Burgin swings to and fro. "There, see how my hand shifts depending on where I'm going to be striking the anvil? It's all about your grip and being flexible. But you need to learn when to be firm and unbending. Knowing when to do what will come with experience."

Burgin hands Ozlo the hammer. "There, you practice smacking that copper around for a bit while I get you some warm metal to work with."

"Alright..."

Ozlo pondered over the way he felt. "Huh, this does feel... Different. My memories of doing this before seem hazy, as though I did this in a fog. Life before Scholarship was just unbearable. I don't think I can go back."

"Here lad, see this?"

Burgin reveals a pair of tongs holding a red hot piece of iron. "The hotter the metal, the easier it is to forge. Generally, there are some... Special metals where that isn't the case, but the stuff you'll be working with should follow this simple rule. Hotter is softer, colder is harder. No take this ingot here and flatten it while it's still warm."

"Yes sir."

Burgin holds the iron on the anvil while Ozlo approaches, hammer in hand. "Alright, here goes nothing..."

BAM. BAM. BAM.

Ozlo thought to himself excitedly. "I'm doing it... I'm really doing it."

"BOY. Focus."

"Shit... I guess that's the downside to being smarter. Everything is just so interesting as though I'm seeing it through a new pair of eyes. I should focus..." Doing his best to focus, Ozlo beats the iron until the color starts to fade and grow dull.

"Stop lad, I'll go reheat this. This will be your only chance to rest until we're done so try to stay still."

"Yes Master Burgin."

While Burgin goes to reheat the metal Ozlo takes the time to examine, REALLY examine the anvil he's working with. "Huh, there doesn't seem to be many marks on the side, but you can clearly see where someone missed the metal and pinged the side of it. Burgin perhaps? Probably not. Maybe it was one of the other apprentices. Speaking of which, I'm the only apprentice currently. I wonder what happened to them? Did they become smiths? Maybe they died... Mother Patricia used to say it was better to not stick my stupid head into other peoples business..."

"Ozlo. I'm surprised you didn't hear me come back. Lost in thought again?"

"Huh? Oh... Sorry Master Burgin."

"I understand boy, I was young once too, as far fetched as it may seem. I remember daydreaming about this and that, which princess I would save or which beastie I would slay. It's good to see that look on your face. No offense lad but the way you used to examine things... Well, let's just say it felt like you weren't all there. Putting it politely of course."

"Right, sorry."

"Don't be sorry boy, nothing you can do about it. Here I am gabbing away like a little girl letting the metal get cold. I'll go warm this back up and when I come back next time, don't distract me. Just bang away until you get it as flat as you can, then I can teach you how to fold it?"

"Fold it?"

Giving Ozlo a deep, hearty laugh. Burgin responded "Aye, like a piece of paper, only much harder and much much hotter."

"Ok."