“How’d you say the blacksmith was again?” Elliot and Tiffany were walking back to the village, heading towards the blacksmith’s home. Tiffany was trying to keep pace with Elliot's stride. “I don’t really know, but teacher says we shouldn’t get on his bad side.” She said, basically running at this point.
Elliot pondered about this, “I guess it would be bad for the village if two important people didn't like each other. Whatever, it's not like anyone in this village would be harder to deal with than our teacher.” Tiffany pouted. “Don’t badmouth teacher! He’s much more powerful and smart than us! He spent a lot of herbs on you to get you back to a normal condition!”
Elliot rolled his eyes “yeah yeah, Hannah tells me that every time she sees my face. I’m telling you, I think he enjoys someone else being subjected to the boiling water for once. He thinks of me as a stress reliever.”
Tiffany was beginning to get red, she was so well taught that Elliot honestly forgot she was only 14 at times. Honestly seeing her more in a ‘respectable granny’ vibe. “Uh, I was just kidding, you know? I really think the teacher’s a good guy, even if he tries to kill me every once in a while.”
All of a sudden she stopped, shaking in anger. “we’re here.” Hannah responded, a despondent tone in her voice. He miiight have messed up. Leaning in, he tried putting a hand on her shoulder. “Come on Tiff I was just teasing...” He couldn’t finish his excuse before she shrugged him off, briskly walking away.
He sighed. “Never insult the teacher in front of Tiffany. Note taken. I should get her something nice as an apology later. Ah, she forgot the basket.” At least that was a plus. Elliot took another sandwich out, nothing like some food to make you feel better after screwing up. He walked into the blacksmith's workshop, a large brick building with the cliche hammer and anvil symbol painted onto the door.
He was fully expecting some super buff and unshaven dude pounding away at the anvil, forging a piping hot red sword in grim determination. Fortunately, that was exactly what he got. The blacksmith’s stature was huge, pounding away with a hammer at a sword that was tiny in comparison.
Elliot was ecstatic, obviously. This guy looked like a good sword maker.
Still, he’d at least act cool about it. “Hey, Mr. blacksmith, I was hoping you could do a job for me.” Elliot walked closer to where the man worked, not minding the heat. The giant bear of a blacksmith made no response, just focusing on the work in front of him.
Elliot didn’t realize and just assumed the man was waiting for more info. “So like, I want a walking cane heavy enough to whack things with but light enough to carry around.Maybe a sharp bit somewhere to… Wait, scratch that, the cane could be the sheathe! It would be cool to have a sword inside it I could pull out at any time… Also-” The pounding of iron stopped, much to Elliot’s ignorance, who just kept prattling on about his stupid and inefficient design.
“So yeah, like a cane old people use but with a sword in it, you know what I mean?” Elliot said, on his third sandwich, bacon and eggs. It was quite tasty. “You know, I really have to speak to your wife for advice in the kitch-” A giant rugged hand was put over Elliot’s mouth, filling his lungs with ash and other unholy debris.
And then the giant man turned to him, with eyes that seemed somewhat ready to kill. “Are you an idiot, or just that bold of a fool?” Elliot then had a shocking realization, of course! He was being rude! He quickly moved back a bit and then scarfed down his sandwich, making sure to spill as little crumbs as he could on the floor, which was still a lot.
“Whew, I'm sorry about that. I forgot how rude it was to talk to people with a mouth full of food. I thought you wouldn’t mind since you looked… ahem, a bit rough around the edges.” And he did, the blacksmith looked as if someone combined Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime and a bear into one rather dirty looking mess.
His face was rugged and fierce, with a jagged cross of a scar through his left eye. His body was toned to the point Elliot feared he would pass out from malnourishment (Seriously, why were so many of the villagers this buff?). His hands were clenched hard, flexing his upper body and making him look more imposing… wait.
“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM, BOY!? I AM DEITRE BRAVE, PEOPLE COULD SPEND MONTHS ASKING FOR MY WORK AND GET NOTHING. NOTHING!” Elliot was already backstepping away, he didn’t realize there’d be someone so... prideful working in this place. Wait, of course there was. This was a fucking blacksmi-
“WHO ARE YOU, ONE SO WEAK AND SCRAWNY, TO ASK ME FOR A WEAPON.”
The blacksmith who he now knew as Deitre was shaking mad. His face was as red as a fire and he finally stood up, much to the boy’s dismay. Elliot, 5’11ish before he came to this world, grew an extra inch and a half in these last few days from what he could only assume was witchcraft. It was impressive, and he had felt pretty good about reaching the beautiful hallmark of six feet…
He was still nowhere near a match for this behemoth of a man. He was standing at least one foot over Elliot in size, mind-boggling when adding in his crazy muscle. “I-I’m sorry sir, I-I didn’t mean anything by it... I was just excited about… about getting a weapon for the f-first time...” Elliot was intimidated, terribly so. He didn't know if this man was strong magically, but his muscle alone was more than a match for someone like him.
The rugged blacksmith looked at him weirdly, as if he heard something outrageous. “No sword at your age? Even nobles get a bow when they turn 14, and they’re sissies, the lot of them.” The blacksmith seemed to calm down, more out of pity than anything else. It seemed like he was the type to change moods fast. Elliot decided to capitulate on the moment.
“I’ve always wanted one since I was a child, but I could never afford one, not even the low-quality ones.” Elliot was technically speaking the truth. He always wanted a pair of sword and shield to decorate the home, and maybe play with when he was certain no one was looking. But the good-looking ones cost over two hundred bucks, and he couldn’t waste that kinda cash.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Not even a trash sword? You better not be lying boy…" He paused, turning around to look for something behind the anvil. "Here, swing this stick the way you use a sword. If you’re skilled enough I’ll consider making you a weapon.” The man handed him a metal rod about three feet long. Now, Elliot wanted that cane, and luckily he spent his time as a child playing knights with friends. That meant he was experienced in swinging a stick.
He brought the stick up and prepared to swing-
And he was stopped. “Ah divines, stop. stop! You really weren’t kidding about never holding a sword, I doubt you’d be able to beat toddlers with that handiwork…” …What? The stick was taken from his hand, his wrist tiny in comparison to the fingers holding it.
“Talk to your teacher about the sword, I doubt you have any money with the way you look, hardly a day’s work put into ye.” Elliot stared blankly at the blacksmith. A little hurt by the insult to his skills. “Um, didn’t you say I had to be good with a sword? Why the change of heart?” The blacksmith scowled. “I knew you were an idiot. If you started being prideful and showed off a proper technique to handle a blade, I'd have cut off both your arms and your nads for lying to me.”
…Ah. Maybe that was a bit lucky on his part, now that he thought about it. Deitre put his hand on Elliot's now trembling shoulder, scowl still on his face. “No man should be left without a weapon, boy... I know that more than most.”
He looked Elliot in the eyes and for a few seconds, he saw the pain of old age. He saw the experiences accumulated throughout his life… both happy and sad. Elliot stopped being scared… All he saw in front of him was another man, just like him. Maybe just a tad bigger, but just as weak all the same.
Okay, maybe not that weak, but still.
“Go to your master and properly ask him. If you’ve been good he might actually think you're worth the cost!” With a gravelly laugh, he shoved Elliot towards the door. Elliot wanted to bolt, but as he went to open the door and leave, he paused.
Damnit, he just couldn’t help himself. “Hey, old man! I hope you really know how to make a sword.” He looked towards the blacksmith, who seemed about ready to strangle him for second-guessing his skills.
Elliot winced, but kept going. “If, uh… you’re unsure of the design I’d be… happy to chat with you about it, I’ll come every once in a while to check up on you... the sword, I mean. We can talk a bit, just the two of us.” Elliot almost couldn’t look him in the eyes, but he knew from the fact that he wasn’t maimed yet that the blacksmith took the hint.
“Who knows, maybe you could give me some pointers on the sword. I've never been taught me these kinds of things...” He finally managed to glance at Deitre, and saw his face stricken with grief. As if a weight was forced on his shoulders. “Nay, boy… I've long passed my days of teaching the sword, but I'd be down for some help around the forge if your lily-livered ass ever becomes tough enough.”
Elliot smiled at the request. “I'll definitely take that challenge on, I'm stronger than I look you know!” He said, flexing his comparatively unimpressive arms, before embarrassingly hiding them behind his back.
“Um… Yeah. Super strong.”
The blacksmith snorted at the gesture, clearly not impressed at the size of his arsenal. “Ayy, and I’m a renowned scholar under all this muscle.” Elliot laughed at the remark. So the man could crack a joke. “See you later, Deitre. Tell your wife I said hi.” He didn’t wait for a response. Elliot sighed once he made it out the door, despite how well things worked out, it didn’t mean he was in the clear yet. He still had to do the most dangerous part… It was time to kiss up to his teacher.
He meandered his way through the village on his way to his teacher’s house, until he remembered the situation and decided to give Gerald some more time to calm down.
Worst case scenario he’d throw him into boiling water again and Elliot needed time to prepare himself. In the meantime, he could go around and take in the scenery in the village for once. In the four days he spent training he never actually got a chance to tour around the place, only getting glances while getting resources for his bath.
The village was fairly small with only around 30 buildings, but despite its small population, it was sure lively. Children were everywhere and he could even see three little rascals trying to throw stones at a bird in the sky… The bird seemed to dodge the stones like a pro.
Oh, crap. He hurried on over to stop them. “Hey, stop doing that to the poor thing. Don’t you know what they say about angering birds?” They looked at him with curiosity, obviously just wanting a way to entertain themselves in this boring town.
“They always remember your faces… causing their wrath to grow stronger every day. At some point, their anger will cause them to grow massive! They get so big they can pick up little children and eat them.”
The kids started giggling, thinking he was just being funny. One stepped forward, pointing at the sky. “Momma told us we can’t be hurt by monsters while we’re inside the village.” The kids were smiling ear to ear, obviously not taking him seriously. “Ah, I see, then what would you call that?” They all turned their heads to the sky, as Elliot pointed at the thing they were throwing stones at. “I hope it doesn’t COME DOWN from there.”
The kids were confused at Elliot’s shout, until they saw the bird they were attacking slowly become bigger and bigger… until it was the same size as them! Elliot was ready for them to run but was surprised when they all stood their ground.“
I was the one that hurt you Mr. Bird! Don’t hurt my brothers!” This was the oldest of the kids, who was still only about 8 years old. He stood in front of his brothers, arms out as if to hide them from Elliot’s horrifying imp, who was just blankly staring at the sky.
Elliot was impressed, what a good resolve for a kid. He really hoped Tiffany wouldn’t mind such an age gap when she grew up because this kid was prime husband material. “GO AWAY, FOUL BEAST.” Elliot howled in mock outrage, holding his basket out in a threatening gesture. “NEVER ATTACK THESE CHILDREN AGAIN!”
The imp nodded, flying away from the scenery until he was decently out of view. He hoped he taught a valuable lesson to these children, nothing was worse than attacking an innocent animal. He didn’t expect what happened next though.
They all swarmed him, and he almost tripped while they yapped their little mouths off. “Whoah! Mister, how'd you do that!?” Mister!? Elliot was barely 19! Still in the prime of his youth! “Don’t call me that. My name’s Elliot, kid.” The kids all did a double-take, and then simultaneously bowed down. The oldest one spoke.
“Thank you for saving us, sir. We promise to never hurt birds as long as we live.” Elliot grimaced, they were set on this whole sir/mister thing huh? He was the picture of youth! Sighing, he wondered why he even bothered. "As long as you take them down on the first shot and eat them, you’ll be fine. Just don’t go harming animals for fun… I won't be there next time to save your brothers, kid...” The oldest looked ashamed, nodding gratefully at his 'savior'. “We promise!”
Elliot saw them off with a wave as they excitedly talked about the ‘demon whisperer’ who appeared in town. He felt like that name would come with some trouble but he didn’t mind it too much. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to bite him in the butt later.