Illara Chronicles: Swordplay

Loose Ends

Aelandras bedroll and fifty feet of hempen rope were strapped to the side of her travel pack. Three sets of clothes were folded neatly inside, and a full waterskin lay beside it. A quarter cycles worth of food rations. She'd readied everything days ago.

Now, sparks flew in all directions as she hammered down on the perfect cube of malleable steel elongating it into a rectangular shape. She loathed the goodbye that stood between her and the journey. The thought of it made her stomach turn, but not now. Now she was lost in the ringing of metal hard against molten metal, and her mind was clear. The shape of the weapon was already perfect, she knew, but she hammered on until she glistened in just the light of the forge.

She bore a hole into one of the long faces and married the head to the gnarled oak handle, then quenched it. Steam wrapped itself all about her. Masterfully, she emblazoned a mountain range, onto each of the hammers sides. She ran her fingers over the work, and her breath caught.

Of all that I have made, this is the finest.

She hefted the thing with both hands, her arms rippled with muscle.  She swung it, but was heavier than she expected and she lost her balance. The hammer struck the wooden workbench, loudly, covered in tools and metalwork. Her hair fell into her face and she laughed, as she shook put it back into place with a flick of her head. She tucked strands of loose hair behind her ear. Everything was ready for her to set off then.

Nearly everything.

Somehow the brief moment of joy paved the way for her stomach to twist into a tighter knot. She thought about trying her hand at forging her first sword. 

Kelith borrowed a sword for the trial.

She pulled her eyes off of the ingots stacked beside the forge and forced them onto the curtain that blocked the hallway to him. She turned her back to it and called him.

"Melrick!" She put both hands onto the anvil and closed her eyes while she waited for the heavy footfalls, and after just a moment they did come.

"Yeah!...What are you working on?" Melrick narrowed his silver eyes at the war hammer propped by her supplies and scratched his short blonde beard as he walked towards it. "What is this are you going somewhere?" He turned her bag over in his calloused hands.

"I changed my mind about the invitation." She steeled herself and turned to face him. Aelandra put a hand over her heart. "Please try to understand..." She let her composure crack, with a falling tear and a sniffle. "...try to understand."

"Are you serious, Aelandra, try to understand?" The smooth skin of his face wrinkled into a frown. "How can you expect me to UNDERSTAND?!"

He threw her bag at the so hard that it knocked over the anvil, she flinched and had to step out of the way as it fell.

"I'm sorry Melrick! There wasn't anyone else. It has to be now so that I don't have to travel on my own. I passed the trial, please don't be upset."

"We had a plan!" Melrick flipped over the workbench. Aelandra covered her mouth and her scream was drowned by the sound of the falling tools. "You can't DO this! You CAN'T!"

"You're wrong." She wiped away a tear with the knuckle of a closed fist.

"What did you just say?" He closed the distance between them, and glowering down at her.

She picked up the anvil and placed it back on its stand, and righted her bag on the ground. Aelandra looked him sharply in the eyes this time, her tone was cold steel. "You're wrong. I can do this." She measured him with her eyes. "You know it too."