Weaponsmith - Chapter 51 (Patreon)

The familiar sound of metal being bent into shape echoes around the tower, floating together with the fumes of the fires, as the wavy heat of the furnace carries it all up towards the ceiling in a rising draft.

It has taken a while, but they’re starting to finally use the charcoal not just for heating, but for forging as well.

Hineni stops his work for a moment, looking over towards Rhine. The boy is lugging wood around, refilling the charcoal-kiln, after having emptied out the latest batch into their growing heap of the stuff. It really was a great idea, Hineni has to admit.

Sweat drips down his forehead, beading out from the places where his skin can still form it. The forge, which is always hot, is now far hotter than usual. Even for himself, he finds it unusually hot in here today. The charcoal burns far, far hotter than the usual forest wood they had been using. Especially since Hineni is pretty sure that he had overfed the forge.

“We’ll get some water in a few minutes,” says Hineni, turning back towards his work, lifting the hammer again.

“I’m fine!” says Rhine. Wood thuds loudly as it's dropped onto a stack. Hineni can hear a crackling and a sparking as the new wood begins to burn, mixing in with the half-charcoal mix that fuels the kiln. “This is nothing.”

The door to the forge opens, Sockel peaks in. The elf has her hair tied back in an unusually tight and high bun. Her dress-shirt is covered in sweat, half-unbuttoned and her face is red and sweaty. “What’s with the heat?” she asks, wincing and shielding her face with her hand as the scorching temperatures of the forge press out through the now opened door. “I already wedged the front door open, but it’s brutal out here,” she notes.

Hineni sighs, he hadn’t thought about the heat carrying through the rest of the house. He rubs his forehead, thinking for a moment. Should they just open some of the windows in the forge tower?

Probably.

Hineni returns to his work, pointing at the ladder leaned against the tower wall. “Open a window, would you?” he asks.

“Huh?” asks Sockel. “I work the desk, open it yourself,” she replies. “Anyway, I’m not stepping one foot into this death-trap.”

“It’s not a death-trap,” replies Hineni. “It passed inspection, just like the rest of the house.”

Sockel tsks, rolling her eyes. “I’m talking about that ladder,” she says. “Not the forge.”

“The ladder?” Hineni turns to look past the reaching, lashing tendrils of fire that are trying to claw out of the furnace. He eyes the long ladder up and down a few times, before turning back towards Sockel. “It’s a perfectly normal ladder, Sockel.”

“Please,” she replies. “I bet that thing is older than you are,” she replies.

“Hey,” says Rhine, wiping away a sweaty strand of blue hair. “How old are you?” he asks.

Sockel lifts an eyebrow, staring at the boy for a moment. She lifts a finger, pointing at him. “Old enough to know that nobody is climbing on that ladder.”

“…What?” asks Hineni.

Sockel sighs, shaking her head. She steps into the forge after all, pulling out a small notepad from her pocket, snatching a pen from the workbench as she scribbles something down. She tears out the note, folding it over at the top and hangs it off of one of the ladder’s rungs.

‘FORBIDDEN’

“Sockel,” says Hineni.

Sockel shakes her head, pushing the ladder away to the side. “Nobody is using this until it’s inspected. Either that or buy a new one.”

Hineni looks at the elf in confusion for a moment. He has no idea what’s gotten into her. Is she bored? Is this what it looks like, when someone is looking for work? “Sockel, aren’t there any guests?”

“None that are left alive after being cooked to death,” she replies. Rhine snorts, holding down a laugh. The elf points back over her shoulder. “Get the owl-god or Eilig to fly up and open a window.”

“It’s a perfectly fine ladder, Sockel,” says Hineni. “I use it all the time.”

“Yeah,” she says. “You’re also engaged to a creature that has daggers for hands and you’re employing a stolen child in a dangerous work environment.”

“First of all, she’s not a creature,” starts Hineni, setting down his hammer. “Secondly, Rhine isn’t stolen. He’s been kidnapped.”

“Yeah!” butts in Rhine. “I like working in the forge, Sockel,” he explains excitedly. “Look!” The boy rolls up his already rolled up sleeve further and flexes his arm, smiling a smug, knowing smile. “Not bad, right?”

“Like a minotaur,” praises Hineni.

Sockel doesn’t seem impressed “Please,” replies the elf, waving Rhine off. “Come back in a year and another twenty kilos.”

Rhine crosses his arms. “It’d be easier if you’d stop stealing my snacks.”

Sockel leans down towards him, placing her hands on her hips as she stares at Rhine with lightless eyes. “The weak should fear the strong.” Rhine gulps. Sockel turns her head towards Hineni. “No ladder.”

The man holds his arms out to his side, gesturing with a lost shrug.

Sockel leans back upright, seeing that her work here is done, she heads out of the forge again.

“…What was that?” asks Rhine.

Hineni shakes his head, not sure either. “Boy, you listen to me,” he says, kneeling down and placing a hand on Rhine’s shoulder. “No matter what happens, promise me that you’ll never work a desk job,” asks Hineni. “It does stuff with your head.”

“Worse than the heat?” asks Rhine.

“Much worse,” affirms Hineni.

Rhine nods. “Okay. I promise.”

“You’re a good kid, Rhine,” says Hineni. “Go open a window.”

“You got it!” replies Rhine, his sweaty face aglow, running towards the ladder.

A glint of metal flies past Hineni’s face, close enough to let him feel the hint of sideways moving air against the tip of his nose, followed by a dull thud. The man turns his head, looking at the ladder and at Rhine who has fallen down to the ground.

A dagger sticks into the wooden ladder, pinning the note firmly in place.

The two of them turn to look at the door where Sockel is standing. She lifts three fingers, pointing at her eyes and then at them, before closing the door behind herself.

_______________________________________________________

Hineni tentatively lowers himself into the bathwater, letting out a sigh of relief as he leans back against the edge of the basin.

One thing that takes some getting used to is that the bathing area is shared with complete strangers now. Though, he supposes that it’s not as big of a deal for himself as he thought it would be. Maybe he’s still used to it from when he was a kid? It’s hard to say.

“Hard day?” asks a man, sitting across from him.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” replies Hineni, leaning back against the edge of the basin. “Busybodies, you know?”

The man laughs. “I hear you,” he says. “I’m the party-leader in our group, but the way I get bossed around, you wouldn’t believe it.”

Hineni laughs, looking at the vaguely familiar man. “Oh, I remember you,” he says. He’s the cheap man, who he had sold a dagger too and ‘given’ a free armor-repair. “Didn’t know you’re staying here.”

The man waves him off. “For seventy-five for a week, I’d rather sleep in the dungeon,” he says. “No offense.” Hineni nods, deciding not to take any. The man isn’t being insulting for the sake of it, he’s just an incredible tightwad and sleeping in the dungeon is free, after all. “I suppose the bath is nice though,” he says.

“Sleeping in the dungeon sounds rougher than paying ten Obols a night,” remarks Hineni.

“Aaah, it’s fine!” says the man. “I think so at least, but that brings us back to before.”

“I’m guessing your party isn’t on board?”

“You’d think they would be,” sighs the man. “Sure, we’re saving money here, compared to the guild down the road,” he says. “But we could save more money by sleeping in the dungeon,” he says.

Hineni nods. The man makes a fair point, but at the same time, he’s a bit different than another tightwad who he knows, Avarice. There’s a difference between being frugal and being cheap. Being frugal is what Avarice does, saving money smartly by reusing old materials and living below his means. Being cheap is putting your life and the lives of others in danger to save a beggar’s wage a week. The dungeon is a hazardous place, after all.

But the man is a customer and it isn’t Hineni’s business, as long as he’s spending money.

“I hear you,” says Hineni, more interested in keeping a happy customer than getting into an argument about someone else’s life.

_______________________________________________________

It is the next ‘morning’, so the evening of the day after.

“Men’s bathing hours?” asks Hineni, looking at the sign hung up on the door to the bathing area. “Women’s bathing hours?” He scratches his head, turning to the counter. “Sockel.”

“Yeah?”

“What’s this?” he asks, pointing at the sign. “This is an adventurer’s guild,” explains the man. “It’s a mixed bath. It’s always been a mixed bath. People here are hardly shy.”

Sockel looks up from her ledger. “You’re getting married,” explains the elf. “Should you tell your wife that you’ll be bathing with other women, or should I?” she asks. She looks up from her work for a moment, tapping her chin with her pen. “Actually, now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her bathe…”

“Sockel,” says Hineni. “It’s my house. I can take a bath whenever I want.”

“Okay, so you’ll tell her then?”

Hineni sighs, looking at the sign. Okay, well, maybe she has a point. It hasn’t happened yet, but he imagines that it would be weird if it did and, if the reverse were true, he’d certainly be unhappy about it. Is that jealousy? Yes. But it seems to be a fair amount of it, he’d say. “Are there any other surprise adjustments I should know about?” he asks.

“Not yet.”

“Great,” says Hineni, shaking his head and heading out to get breakfast. First the ladder, now the bath. He has given Sockel too much power, she’s becoming dangerous.

_______________________________________________________

Eilig and Hineni stare at each other.

“What is this?” asks Hineni, puzzled.

“You tell me!” barks the fairy at him, taking a sharp tone right from the start. The odd creature, that is usually a vague, blobby light in the rough shape of something human, is unusually distinct today, because she’s encased in what appears to be a tiny outfit. A small dress that looks like some old fabric from a pillowcase. “I’m sick of you people!” she yells. “I’m just enjoying a quiet morning and then someone starts whacking against my house!”

Hineni sighs. He already has a feeling about where this is heading.

“What is this garbage?!” she yells, moving back into her house. A second later, a wad of paper tumbles out onto the frozen floor. Hineni looks at it, wondering how the fairy even managed to ball up this sheet of paper? For a human it would be a simple task, of course. But for her size, she must have spent an hour and used her entire body just to make a point out of it.

He picks it up, uncrumpling it to look at the notice, written in familiar hand-writing.

‘During work hours, all employees must wear clothes.’

Hineni blinks, looking at the note and then at the fairy. “I’ll take care of it, Eilig,” says Hineni. He turns around to go find Sockel. This is going too far. “For what it’s worth, it’s a nice dress though.”

“Shut up!” barks the fairy. A section of ice regrows around the doorway to her home, sealing it off from the world.

Hineni shrugs, heading back up the frozen ladder, stopping only for a moment as he sees another notice stuck to it; a detailed list of instructions on how to safely climb the frozen ladder.

He rolls his eyes and heads up it.

_______________________________________________________

Hineni walks around the house, looking for the elf who has left her desk. He’s been upstairs, checked out the rooms and the attic, the bath, the restaurant, the storage, the library. But…

The man stops in the kitchen, looking around, seeing nobody.

“- is done, yes?” hoots a voice.

Hineni turns his head towards the doorway that leads out of the back of the kitchen, to the often unused hallway that leads out of it to the library. Quietly, he moves through it.

“Yeah,” replies Sockel’s voice. “I took care of it.”

“Good…” hisses Obscura’s voice. “The sock-elf did Obscura’s bidding well,” croons the owl-god.

“Sure. But you don’t think it’s a bit much?” she asks. “I mean, okay, the ladder I get, it’s pretty jank,” says Sockel. “The other stuff, well, you gotta be sure not to squeeze too tight, you know?” asks the elf.

Something clicks and hisses in annoyance. “Gentle!” hoots Obscura. “Obscura’s talons are like fluffy kittens!”

Sockel sighs. “Uh, yeah, sure,” she says. “Listen, I’m just saying that you’re going to do more harm than good with this kind of stuff. Believe me.”

“Wise Obscura knows the ways of the heart!” she hoots.

“Are you sure that you’re not just being jealous and overprotective?” asks Sockel dryly.

“WHO~!” protests an offended voice. “Obscura will not forget the sock-elf’s work,” croons the owl-god. “But also not her lack of REVERENCE!” she says, unusually loudly, her voice cracking.

“Uh, sure, whatever,” says Sockel. “I want my stuff.”

There’s a ruffling sound of fabric. “Obscura pays in full,” replies the owl-god.

It’s quiet for a second. “Pleasure doing business with you,” says Sockel. Hineni freezes, looking around himself as he hears them walking his way. There isn’t enough time for him to go anywhere without being caught.

Sockel walks in through the kitchen, a cookie in her mouth and another two in her hand. She spares him a glance and keeps on moving without saying a word and a moment later, Obscura comes in behind her, freezing on the spot.

“Who…” hoots the owl-god.

Hineni crosses his arms, staring at her.

She holds her arms out to the side, quickly transforming into a small owl. “A surprise Hineni!” she hoots. “Look! Cute Obscura, yes?” she asks, flapping awkwardly around in a circle. “Loving, irresistible, yes?”

Hineni stands there, tapping his finger against his upper arm.

He supposes that jealousy can go both ways.