Despite the most recent expansionist war that the Kingdom of Dolia was going through, the village of Yorn was far enough removed to be left to its of devices. Even if the kingdom was conscripting all the able bodied peasants, there would be little to be found here. All the young adults had already left some time ago, and all that was left behind are the infirm, elderly, and children.
Fall had come a bit early this year, painting the landscape in different shades of brown and orange while the cool winds swept the fields and hugged the houses of the Yornians in a gentle embrace. Dawn was fast approaching, but the villagers were already busy as bees in hopes of accomplishing their tasks just a bit earlier. Woodsmen sauntering to their logging sites, bakers preparing their dough, and even the hunters stepping out of their homes hefting their sacks filled with supplies to last them the next few days as they hunted their game. What was unusual today though, was that the fires of the forge had been rekindled, billowing smoke out of the stone smokestack.
The Home attached to the blacksmith's forge was the second largest in the village, a two story building that sat wide and sturdy like a boulder decorated in various metal ornaments to display the prowess of the smith that resided there. The shutters were left open, letting the smell of blueberry pie tickle the senses of any passerby and leaving them wanting just a slice of that confectionery heaven. A beautiful and fair-skinned woman was busying herself in the kitchen while two children were hovering around her, their mouths salivating in anticipation for this rare kind of breakfast. Shooing them away with a smile upon her lips, she gave the children an order, "Go and wake your brother, otherwise your father will have to do all the work himself."
"Yes, mother!" They replied in unison as they rushed up the stairs to the bedroom all three siblings shared. One of the pair, the brother, said to his sister, "Should we do the same old trick?" To which she replied, "It always works, so why not?" Giving a cheeky grin. Upon opening the door, the pair came across their brother sleeping halfway off of his bed, a leg and an arm touching the wood floor. Unlike the two with their paler skin and green eyes, the sleep sibling was tan-skinned like their father. He was a few hairs taller than they were, and even though he was still a child one could tell he would be quite a giant when he grew up. With a silent countdown, the two bunched their legs and jumped onto their brothers bed landing upon him and shouting, "Wake up, Logi!"
That was all it took for Logi to jolt awake, losing the air from his lungs at from the weight of his two siblings. His amethyst eyes focused on the two as he let out a groan of slight pain, "I'm awake, I'm awake!" He replied, his voice cracking due to his body cursing him with growing pains. He then grabbed his siblings in a playful headlock before a wrestling match ensued, the sound of laughter traveling to the floor below followed by a collective "oof" as the trio fell off the bed.
"Mother wants you to hurry up and help papa in the forge, lazy bones." The younger brother said when Logi released him from his grasp, before sending a playful jab into Logi's chest. "Oh yeah, Mother also made Blueberry pie! If you don't hurry up, Jenna and I will eat it all" The gleam in their sister, Jenna's eyes was all the proof he needed. "Don't you dare!" Logi gave them both a glare, before switching back into a smile, "I'll be right down, so you better save me some. She made that pie for me, after all!"
His two siblings scrambled from the floor with a fit of laughter, their feet slipping and sliding on the wood before taking their exit from the room. What followed after was their mother scolding them for causing a ruckus.
With a exhale of breath Logi was on his feet once more, making his way over to the dresser cabinet the three siblings shared. Though their family was one of the more well off in the village, they weren't wealthy enough to provide individual sets of clothes for the brothers. Hand-me downs from their father and simple tunics and hempen pants were in abundance, so it wasn't difficult just slipping on a set of new clothes. As the sunlight spilled through the small window in the room it landed upon the tattoo he'd had for as long as he could remember. He'd ask his mother and father what it meant when he was younger, but they seemed to not notice even see it. Though his father laughed the whole thing off as a kid's imagination, his mother scolded him and told him not to tell lies. In the end he just gave up thinking about it. Letting it stay hidden under a shirt and out of mind, he made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen.
The smell of pie was the first thing that hit him when he stepped the kitchen, and his eyes traveled to the wooden plate and spoon on the table which contained that precious blueberry pie and a chunk of sausage. Salivating at the sight, he rushed over and practically jumped into his seat and reached for his spoon, before receiving a smack on the wrist with a spatula. "Prayers first, Logi! Otherwise-" His mother began her usual lecture, but was cut off by the rushing and excited child, "I'll be taken away by monsters and gobbled up. Sorry Mother."
He had heard her say that every day, whether he did something bad or not. The more she said it, the less impact it had on him. What monster would go out of their way to try and eat a small son of a blacksmith. She never said it to his siblings, which made it even less sense. His father thought it nonsense as well, saying grown-ups had more meat on them to eat compared to kids. Unless the meat tasted different somehow, like veal and regular beef. Giving his thanks to the gods in whispered words, he scarfed down his breakfast and hopped out of his chair once more. As he slipped on the leather work shoes made for the forge he thanked his mom for the pie and stepped through the doorway into the workshop, leaving behind a mother that bored holes into the back of Logi's head, a vicious smile on her lips.
The smell of burning coal and the warmth of the fires greeted the child like a comforting embrace from another member of the family, for how long Logi had spent in this place. Ever since he could walk, there wasn't a time he found himself exploring the foundry. The billows breathing life to smoldering embers, the sound of hammer drawing out the impurities from metal and shaping it into a desired form, the humming of his father as he worked with great focus. He felt more at home here than beyond the door he just passed. Uncle Brunn wasn't here yet, meaning that it was just father and the excited heir to this family practice. As he stepped down the earthen steps and into the main work area, Logi ran his fingers along the various tools on the tables or hanging on hooks, recounting their uses and names by heart. One day he will be capable of wielding these tools of the trade, but right now he was still too inexperienced and small.
"That you, little Logi?" A deep, welcoming voice entering the ears said. When Logi turned his head, the sight of his father came into view. He was a bear of a man. The biggest man in the village by far, who once carried and ox that broke its leg in the field, and despite his intimidating appearance he was the kindest person Logi knows. "Yes, Papa!" Logi replied "Sorry to keep ya waiting!"
"Oh, you weren't keeping me too long. 'sides, its your special day." He said as his right foot flattened the gut of the bellow, causing a surge of air to stoke the flames before him. Logi didn't waste time though during their talk, as he was putting on his apron and gloves before standing beside his father. With a pat on the hip to his father to let him know he was ready, the father and son traded positions.
"Are we finally making it, Papa?!" Logi asked as he used his whole body to depress the billow, hanging from the chain above for support.
"You bet we are." His father said with a chuckle as he grabbed a pair of tongs and dove them into the coals, before pulling out a glowing chunk of metal which glowed a shifting range of colors like a crystal prism. "I got started a little bit ago to get the iron hot, but everything else is left up to you, my little Logi."
Today was the day he would be making his own hammer, making him an official apprentice! Even though he had helped in the forge for quite some time, learning the ins and outs of the craft, but he wasn't allowed to lead in forging anything until today. It is customary in his father's homeland that once you turn 13, only then can you become an apprentice. His father normally would have forbid such learning in advance like what they were doing, but the kingdom had been causing trouble and Logi needed to grow up a bit faster in case something happened, at least that is what his father told him. Everything up until now was preparation for this day!
"That ingot looks pretty, papa." Logi said as he laid his eyes upon the metal, "It doesn't look like iron though." He said with a hint of confusion and a tilt of his head, his amethyst eyes full of wonder.
"It's just a special iron, for my special boy." He said with a laugh, "This hammer will be with you for a long time after all, through thick and thin." His tone though light-hearted, seemed to have a hint of reminiscence, "Shame I don't have mine anymore." *He said as he dove the tongs into the forge once more and shifted something that lay hidden within.
"I heard you hammering away on something when I came in, papa. Is it some special order, or is Mr. Thatcher asking for more horseshoes again?" Logi asked as he hopped from the billows and made his way over to the anvil not too far away, just like always.
"Just a personal project of mine. Might just melt it back down later if it doesn't turn out right." He said with a deflective tone, one which Logi knew right away meant this was a time to not ask. His father may be a relaxed and lovable person, but when he puts his foot down, it's best not to push things. The large man then stepped away from the forge and walked over to a corner of the shop, "We won't be using that anvil today, little Logi."
The child looked confused for a moment before replying, "But we don't have any other anvils...." Before watching his father hoist up something covered in a hempen tarp. Something extremely heavy. With lumbering steps his father brought it over and placed it beside the other anvil, before pulling the tarp free. The child let out a gasp of wonder at the sight before him. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Unlike the anvil that was a dull lump, this one was made of silver and gold. Etched along the surface were intricate symbols that seemed like they were alive, wrapping around embedded gems of that faintly flickered from the firelight. With his mouth still agape, he looked at the anvil and back to his father quite a few times in shock in a total loss for words.
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"Don't just stand there trying to catch flies," He chuckled before clapping his hands, bringing Logi back into the present, "We've got a lot of work to do."
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, the new apprentice made his way over to the forge and used the tongs to grab that fancy bit of metal. He let out a grunt at the surprising weight, but managed to move the glowing ingot to the anvil, placing it in carefully in hopes of not dropping it. As he grabbed one of the nearby hammers and rested it on his shoulder, he noticed a peculiar circle of words on the flat of the anvil. "Waaiit a minute. I know these words. They are the ones you taught me."
"Quick to catch it, my little Logi." He said with a proud smile, "Good to know all those lessons paid off." He continued, before knocking a knuckle on the top of his son's head, "Now don't worry about that and let's get started. You remember how to do it, right?"
"Of course, papa! I've been waiting for this day for a long time after all." Logi replied withj enthusiasm before reaching into his pocket and producing a small blade in a leather sheath. Pulling free the glinting blade, he brought it to one of his fingers and made a small cut. As the blood welled up, he he closed his eyes and began speaking in the tongue his father taught him, while his father began to hum a tune that resounded throughout the room.
"Today a smith is born.
One who will stoke the flames in their soul,
One who will breath life into their works,
And one who will turn thoughts into reality."
As the blood formed into a drop and fell onto the glowing ingot, a small flicker and vibration rippled though it, unbeknownst to Logi. Within a short breath it returned to its previous state, just as the apprentice opened his eyes once more.
"Very good, little Logi." His father said as he ruffled his kid's hair, "Now, strike true."
"Yes, papa." The apprentice said as he gripped the hammer as he was taught and brought it down onto the metal of shifting colors.
As Logi swung the hammer down, his father would whisper words that seemed to somehow be heard over the hammer blows, "Don't forget, Logi. Put your thought into every strike. Shape the metal in your mind, just the way you want it to be. Make every breath you take dedicated to your craft, so that every part of your creation gets the love it deserves."
The little apprentice was too focused to reply, putting his all into making his hammer. His surroundings no longer mattered. All that mattered was the hammer before him. Drawing out the impurities, scraping it away, and bathing the metal in flames. He repeated this over and over while his body rained sweat upon the earthen floor. He wanted this hammer to be the best hammer it could be. He wanted it to be capable of making his father proud, no, to be capable of making things even his father couldn't! He wanted it to never lose its way from his hands, so that he won't have that look of longing like his father did.
All the while, his father coaxed him along during his son's tense moment. Adjusting the angle of the metal just so, adding the right amount of binding agent, lightly tapping Logi's elbows and shoulders for the perfect swing. The apprentice was in a trance like state, an important time that needed the guiding hand of a master to get the most out of this moment. After Logi had punctured the center of the hammer to make room for the handle, his father snapped his fingers, breaking the trance.
"Well, would you look at that." His father cooed in admiration. "That's some fine work you did there." He said as he examined the hammer head. It wasn't anything fancy or flashy, but it gave off a sense of stability. A sturdy tool that could hammer into being just about anything and not even get a scratch. The only thing that stood out was a empty socket on its side, and the color of the metal itself shifting to different dull colors in a slow manner.
Logi looked at his creation with awe and confusion, looking to his father, "You sure this is iron, papa? I don't think its supposed to do that."
"Never you mind, little Logi, everything turned out just fine." He said before he reached into his pocket and produced a clear gem and a dark colored handle, "Now for the finishing touches before we quench it." He said before handing over the two objects to Logi. "Insert the handle into that hole you made, and then tap the gem into the side. Don't worry about the handle burning or the gem breaking. Just put as much confidence into it as you made the rest of it."
"Okay, papa..." He said as he followed his instructions. The wooden handle hissed threateningly inch by inch as it found its way locking into the hammer, but like his father said it was completely fine. As for the gem, it practically jumped into the socket with the lightest of taps. Just as he finished his work, the beautiful anvil of silver and gold crumbled into dust, leaving the freshly made hammer to clatter against the floor with a thud.
Logi looked at where the anvil once was, then to his father in hopes of getting an answer. He wasn't going to give up questioning it this time.
As his father picked up the hammer and dunked it into a shallow tub of oil, his father gave a shrug and said, "It served it's purpose." He continued as he listed to the hiss of steam from the hammer, "It was never supposed to be here in the first place."
"What do you mean, papa?" Logi asked as he walked over to the tub of oil where his hammer rested, "Did you steal it or something?"
"Something like that." He said with a chuckle, before pulling out the hammer and drying it off with a clean cloth. Giving it a once over, he nodded to himself, handing it to his son. "You are now officially an apprentice, little Logi."
When the hammer found itself in Logi's grasp, the apprentice could have sworn he felt a connection to the hammer, but that could very well just be because he had an attachment to it from putting so much effort into making it. "I'll make you proud one day, papa. I swear it!" He said while looking up into his father's amber colored eyes.
"You already have, but I'll be making sure you keep up the good work." He said with a chuckle, a look of wistfulness in his gaze as he peers into those Amethyst eyes that look so much like the woman that left this world so long ago.
As the two began joking and cleaning up their workspace, the heat of the forge vanished, replacing it with a deep chill. The jovial giant demeanor shifted to one of seriousness and determination as he looked at the double doors that led to the front of the forge. Just as Logi was going to ask a question, his father pointed to the tool closet and ushered with a stern tone. "Hide in there, and don't you come out."
"B-but, papa-" Logi tried to reply, confusion and fear of possible danger sinking into his core tripping up his words.
"No words, just go!" He said as he nudge his child towards the closet, watching Logi close it behind him. With a sigh and rubbing his face with his hands, he turned to the double doors with a clinched jaw.
A shadow soon appeared through the crack of the doors which bled into the depths of the forge, snuffing out the flames and bringing darkness to the interior, followed by a low, scraping knock that lasted 4 times. "It is time to collect what is owed~" Said a whispering, raspy voice much like a snake.
"You are not welcome here, Wollen. Return to whence you came." Logi's father replied, stepping slightly towards the forge of cooling embers.
A grinding, grating sound much like rough pottery rubbing up against each other was given in response as the voice responded in a harsh tone, "You known how are contracts work, Rokkr!" It said before the doors rattled on their hinges violently, "You could have killed that woman, and all of this could have been avoided."
"I have sworn an oath, Wollen!" Rokkr shouted back in a strained voice, tears falling down his cheeks, "You know that I cannot do that, even if I wished for her death every waking moment!"
The double doors rattled even more erratically, before suddenly stopping. The voice at the door then filled the room, enveloping the darkness with its oppressiveness. "Now, here we are. An Oathbound and a Contractor, this time on opposing sides." It said, before 13 massive eyes lit up the room in red light, with a crooked wave of jagged teeth beneath them.
Rokkr then dove his hand into the cooling embers, dragging free a large bearded axe, covered in the tong of his homeland, "You shall not have my child, Snatcher of The Nine!" He said as he lunged forward, his axe cleaving downwards onto the many-eyed creature. His powerful build brought forth terrible strength from every strand of corded muscle, causing a deafening sound as it met the beast before it. The axe itself began to glow viciously, a ringing much like a tuning fork seeping into the bones of the three in the smithy. Wollen let out a pained groan as the blade of the axe sunk into the flesh shrouded in darkness, but soon recovered forced Rokkr back and tumbling over his smithing tools. Shortly after, that grand axe disintegrated into nothingness.
Seeing his father hurt brought fear and panic into Logi's heart, and he could not help but rush out of the closet to go his side, "Papa!" He cried out as his small gripped onto Rokkr under the gaze of the monstrous Wollen.
"And there he is~" The creature spoke mockingly, a glowing red tongue licking the fresh wound upon his face. "I honestly expected more from your craftsmanship, Rokkr." He chuckled, "My, how the legendary Smith of The Ancients has fallen~" Wollen's words teasing the ears, "I shall also correct you on my title. I am the Snatcher of Three, now." His dreadful appearance closes in on the father and son until his eyes almost touch them, "Much has changed since, deserter~"
Rokkr then turned to his son, grabbing hold of him and looking into his eyes, "None of this is your fault, Logi. Know that." Before giving his son a hug that transferred all the love that he could muster. As the crying boy returned his embrace, he felt the warmth of his father wane, and the skin upon which he touched grow smooth and cold.
As confusion set in, Wollen commented in a sadistic tone, "And there goes his oath, broken like the hearts that bound him~" he said, while Logi pulled away from his father to see what was wrong. What was once the living and breathing Rokkr, now rested a pristine amber statue, garbed in his clothes. "To think he could not even save his child, even after risking his life to do so! "It chuckled, "I could use a snack anyways."
With those words, his toothy maw opened wide and clamped down upon the statue that was once Rokkr, chomping savagely away before the boy before him.
"Papa!" He cried out as the scene before him unfolded, his heart tearing to shreds. Without care for himself, he rushed towards the creature with his hammer raised, trying to smack the beast as it feasted. However, all it took was a breath from Wollen to knock him over and reeling in pain.
"A solid effort, child of Rokkr, but your strength is sorely lacking." Wollen commented as his eyes drifted to the door that led into the house, "Since her contract has been fulfilled, it might be best to tie up loose ends..." It said as its eyes and mouth drifted over in the darkness, "Wait here, while I fill my belly and prevent those pesky mortals from learning of us~" The sound of the door shattering and three people screaming were etched into Logi's mind as he writhed on the floor, tears streaming his cheeks.
Soon, Wollen returned to the smithy, looking down with a smile that nearly circled around his many eyes. As the world faded to black, Logi heard one last mocking phrase.
"Happy Birthday"