(WP) A Little Rest
He’d been waiting all day for this.
sunlight streamed through the window like liquid gold, illuminating the chair
in which he longed to sit. As a smith, his hours ran early and late; he didn’t
sleep much. But he hardly minded. The work was hard, but it was satisfying. Decades
of patience had taught him that you just couldn’t rush something into being. It
had to be nurtured, lovingly so.
forge had birthed many weapons, and he was proud of them all.
every so often, he would feel the stiffness in his bones, that stubborn crackle
in his knees, brought on by a storm or a strange shift in weather. As much as
he liked to pretend that he was still in his prime, his body reminded him of
man like him surely deserved a little rest, didn’t he?
last, he sat, with a bottle of sweet, chilled wine. It was odd; his appetite had
only begun to dwindle as he got older. But his tolerance for the finer things
in life had only deepened. If he didn’t love his work so, he would’ve retired
years ago, with an attractive paramour on his arm.
opened the wine and took a quick swig, luxuriating in the sunlight like a cat. He
savored the flavor of it, dark berries and chocolate and a hint of something he
couldn’t name. He licked his lips, putting his hands on his stomach. The wine
warmed him from the inside out, and all he could think about was how much he
wanted to nap.
he’d been awake since before the sun goddess Raeiel spread her skirts and
welcomed the day. He was certain that he’d earned it. With that decision
finally made, he pulled the brim of his hat down to shade his face. Feet
propped up on the barrel opposite him, he dozed off.
smith was awoken by a series of loud, rather insistent knocks, and he opened
his eyes, grumbling to himself. He’d been in the middle of a good dream, and
try as he might, he could not remember what had happened in it.
moment!” He called gruffly, lowering his feet to the floor.
knocks ceased, as if the person on the other side of the door had heard him.
shuffled to the door and opened it, slowly.
apologies, I’m afraid I dozed off. What seems to be the problem?”
person waiting on his doorstep was a girl, scrappy and small and fifteen at
most. Her face was dirty with soot, and her hair was cut so short that it was
impossible to guess at its color. She was tiny, just barely over five feet, but
her posture and the determined look on her face endeared her to the old, sleepy
The people in the village told me that this was your forge, and that I was to
to make weapons, like you. So, I want to be your apprentice. Please, sir, I’ll
do anything! Sweep the floors, clean and cook, and I can read and write, too!
Please, I want to be a great smith, just like you.”
child, I suppose you should come in. We’ve a lot of work to do.”