Snippet #1997319

Heat crashed against the apron in waves, while cinder and sparks filled the air as each hit ignited the steel’s yellow-orange glow. Clang. The air was heavy with heat and the scent of burning charcoal. The smithy’s furnace had been glowing all day, the repetitive clashing of hammer on steel echoing throughout the room. The young apprentice was a man who rarely knew rest, only relaxing while forging iron and steel. Clang. His red eyes glowed like the ember he worked with; like a kiss of fire it caressed those he looked upon. Damon Aeacus was no hard man, but he was no simpleton either. Cinder and smoke, fire and steel; they filled his soul with a passion beyond any he had known. Clang.

He had been working all day, supporting his father’s detailed work with a sledge hammer. At night it was his turn, creating intricate work on his own. Clang. Years he had worked with his father, day and night, and finally the apprentice’s detailed work was slowly surpassing his teacher‘s. Most of it was useless though; beautifully adorned helmets, armor, and swords brought little coin in a small village like Anthiro, but one day he would travel and find a master smith. Clang. The fuller, a tool for lengthening steel, was drawing down the metal Damon was working on. It was close to being finished. Oh, the very idea of improving his skill further and learning new skills appealed to him above other things. Clang.

The work on this particular tool had been prepared days ahead, and he had even taken the time to find out what amount of alloy would forge the strongest steel. Clang. Sweat was dripping from his brow. Working in the fire had earned him quite a toned skin and some small charred wounds. Clang. Corners of the metal were knocked off, finishing the shape in a strong block with an hole the size of an egg. Clang. “That was the last hit, now time to finish it up.”

‘Finishing up’ had taken most of the night. Grinding away, fitting in the handle, and creating the detailed decorations on the head. Then as a finishing touch he inscribed his initials. He had finished his work, on his lap lay the newly forged hammer specifically made for forging blades. Whilst Damon had fallen asleep in his working chair, the smithy rested with an uncommon silence.