Chapter 10: Flashback
I was working on some weapons for some local House heirs, such as Kartos Garriken, Rallien Salkeller and Raston de Eramont.
I place the blade, that I had been working on this week so far, on the bench used for storefront business dealings such as interacting with customers and selling our goods to them.
The blade is a single-edged, straight blade made of Ksarcan metal which causes it to shine a light red in the sunlight due to the red dust I mixed with the metal in the forging of the blade.
“So there you go young man, a blade for a de Eramont heir. It glistens red when in the sunlight and will take down any foe who faces you, hopefully, that won’t be necessary,” I say to the heir to the de Eramont House.
Raston says back to me “thank you very much, sir. How much would it cost, I forgot what I paid as half last time?”
“That will be 50 Kals thank you,” I respond.
I watch the young noble ruffle through his pants pockets for his coins. His face is quite naturally stern and serious looking, quite unique for a de Eramont who are known for their laid-backness and almost anti-seriousness attitude. He has brunette hair that hangs long behind his head and from where I am positioned it looks like it continues down past the back of his neck. His eyes shine a bright blue, a normal eye colour for a pale-skinned noble such as Raston. He’s wearing a light grey leather suit and pants with a wolf fur coat around him to help warm him. I’ve found it humorous that nobles dress in leather suits as if they’re about to have armour placed on them for a fight.
He hands me a small purse which I can feel has many coins inside.
I open the purse and count the coins inside, indeed there is 50 Kals.
I turn around and pick up the leather black sheath that Raston requested to have for the blade and turn back around to pass it to him.
“And here’s the sheath, be careful with them now and make sure it’s maintained properly. That’s the only way you’ll get plenty of years out of them,” I recommend to him as he accepts the sheath.
“Thank you very much, Maxxar. Have a good day,” Raston says as he sheaths his new sword and attaches the sheath and sword to his belt.
The young man turns around and walks off into the streets of Rigtal to continue his day.
A heir’s first blade is a huge deal to them as they tend to hold them for up to two decades of their life. The only time the heir’s blade is replaced is when they must father the House, which is when they are given the House sword. The House swords are some of the most beautiful, and yet still effective in battle, blades to exist in the Calerian Empire.
I see another young man walk past Raston, the two, in fact, appear to greet one another shortly before the other man continues to walk towards me. I can only assume it’s another heir looking for a sword to be forged for him.
As he approaches I greet him “hello there young sir, what can I do for you this fine day?”
He stops in front of my bench “hello mate, was wondering if I could have a sword forged for me please?”
“Well of course, what would this blade be? A present for someone else or yourself?”
“For myself thank you.”
“Alright, then what is your name young man?” I say as I open a compartment in the bench that holds paper and an ink quill for writing down customer information.
“My name is Mechal Drogen, mate.”
Once I place the paper down and begin to write his name, I come to a stop when I begin to write his House’s name.
I look back up at him and say “Drogen? Don’t you already have plenty of blacksmiths who work for you who could forge you a sword?”
The Drogen House is known for their brilliant swords, why is their heir coming to me?
“I considered them but thought it would be better to come to you since I’ve heard your shop specialises in heir swords,” I explain.
“Well I guess that’s true, alright then I’ll build you a sword. It’ll cost you a total of 100 Kals, and you have to pay half up front.”
He just throws a small bag of coins onto the table.
“I think 120 Kals up front shouldn’t be an issue, right mate,” he says with a smile.
I just look at him with a confused look.
I say back “are you sure you want to pay that much all up front?”
He just looks me dead in the eyes and says “let me ask you a question, mate. What would you say is more dangerous, a still flame or sitting ashes?”
“I...don’t understand the point of the question, sorry. Could you better explain it please,” I say with confusion
He just smiles with a boyish yet nefarious looking grin, tilts his head upwards and lifts up his right arm with his hand making a “join me” gesture.
“Join me in my life’s ambition and then you will not only understand the question, you will also be able to answer it,” he says in a dramatic sounding voice.