Chapter 20: "Blade"

Theodore felt the sweat bead his brow as he pounded at the metal dagger. The dark goggles dimmed his vision, but the glow from the molten hot blade made it easy to see. He pounded, smoothing out the metal. It shaped like butter beneath his tools. All the while, he chanted a tune, the words barely audible and rough in his voice, but the cadence remained the same.

Each pound rang a clear chime from the light metal. The words were cheerful and easy. Even though he was focused on his task, the person he was making these daggers for was etched in his mind behind each word.

The work went quickly and before he knew it, he had finished all five daggers. They were identical in shape and size, an impossible feat, but somehow he had accomplished it. He was taking off his goggles when Master entered the yard. He let out a low whistle.

“Those are mighty fine blades. I think Ky is really going to like them.”

Theodore smiled tightly, trying to keep it from expanding into a full-blown grin. “I hope so. He just really needs the protection, you know?”

Master nodded. “Did the song I gave you help?” He asked as he stirred the bowls of herbs smoking on either side of the forage.

Theodore shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe? I’ve never worked with this chemical structure before, but either way, it was just so easy.”

Master nodded, his eyes closing as if he could feel the way Theodore understood it. “Now, the hilts will be the next challenge. Do you have any ideas?”

Theodore rubbed at the soot on his face as he thought. “Ivory, wood, bone, metal,” he listed. “I’m not really sure what would be best. It will need to be weighted properly, but I’m not sure which material to use.”

“Have you asked Ky what he would prefer?”

“What? No! It’s a surprise.”

“I am sure you are smart enough to ask him without giving away the surprise.”

Theodore ran a dirty hand through his dirty hair. “I guess, but I don’t want to give anything away. I think I’d have a hard time lying to him. If these where yours, what would you use? Ivory is the most expensive… but maybe tha—,”

Master lifted a finger and shook it at him. “I would speak with the trees,” he said cryptically.

Theodore tilted his head sideways looking at him in confusion.

Master nodded as if it was settled. “Yes, go to the forest. Ky spends a lot of time there. You should go to the forest and find a tree willing to give itself to your daggers. Or maybe a perfectly good rock will fall at your feet. We shall see! We shall see!”

Theodore let out an exasperated sigh. “What?”

“You’ll leave first thing tomorrow. Go north to the Evereaves Forest and if you don’t find something there go East. I would recommend staying the night. Trees talk the most in the moonlight.” Master rambled on as he turned to leave. He clapped his hands together as he mumbled on.

Theodore watched him go. He often felt like there was another person in on the conversation when talking to the old man, but this idea was a bit more bizarre than usual. He shook his head. Unfortunately, Master was usually serious when it came to this stuff. He eyed the steaming herbs on the sides of the forage. Maybe they really had helped. Or maybe it was all just in his head.

“Speak with the trees.”

Theodore ran his hands through his hair again. The trees. His fingers played over the surface of one dagger. It glinted smooth under the forage firelight. He snatched it up and began to sharpen the edges of it on the spinning steam-powered sharpening wheel. The edge of the blade melted to razor sharp in only a few moments. He pulled the blade back, hoping he hadn’t made them too flimsy, but the blade was hard and sharp. He frowned. He lay the dagger’s edge against the wheel again, this time at an angle that would make it blunt. He leaned into it, then pulled it away.

He stared at the edge. It looked unchanged. He tested it with a hair from his own head. The hair split. What had he just made? He quickly sharpened the rest. Each one melted to a perfect point and no further. Each one identical to the others. He lay them out on the workbench. He’d never seen blades like these before. Never seen anything so perfect. He pulled his eyes from them and stole a glance at the herbs. Maybe Master had just made him high. There was no way an apprentice blacksmith alchemist could make something this nice. He was just seeing things. He shook his head. He couldn’t keep from touching them. They called to him to be polished and cared for. They called to him to be finished.

His fingers skimmed the surface of the blade. He would leave first thing tomorrow. Trees be damned or holy, it didn’t matter. He had to find the materials to finish them.

Copyright 2019 Ava Altair

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