"This is unbelievable!" shouted Shinas, one evening, at the new house. "How do they not allow us to benefit from our old status, what is going to happen to us, then? You are trained to be a diplomat, Dyrun, not some low-life carpenter! "
"You are right, my love," he said calmly, yet sad. "But this is an entire different system here. Things do not work like that. We are not in Syera anymore, do not forget. Our reputation apparently died along Syera herself. We will do what we must; anger, we should not allow to overtake our souls."
"But!" glared Shinas in anger, hitting the table she's sitting behind. She gasped, then exhaled in surrender, not saying anything else.
"I know and feel your disappointment," he said softly, after walking behind Shinas' chair to touch her shoulder. "We are not lustful people. We never were. That, we owe our reputation to. Our kin is cold-blooded, which I consider a gift. I am also a craftsman - you know how much I wanted to run a workshop all my life; don't you? Performing art. Working on wood. Carving it. I am sure it is not as bad as you think, Shinas. For the children, at least, we have to do our best to make it not as bad as you think."
"What should we do with the kids?" Shinas asked.
"They should be trained as crafters, too, what else? At least until the time they decide what they will do for themselves. Well, I can take the boys to train them," Dyrun shrugged. "The girl is strong, almost stronger than her brothers. I am not sure if she can work with the wood, she needs something... tougher." He smiled.
"You have a point," Shinas said. "What about I talk to that blacksmith north of Deluin Street you know? Maybe he can help us?"
"That sounds just fine, he is a wise man," Dyrun approved. "Please do so. See? That is not as bad! Our kids will be raised as worthy, creative minds instead of being suffocated inside the bureocracy of Syeran nobility. I consider this fortunate."
"Oh, Dyrun," she said, looking behind with an admiring smile. "What would have happened to us if it wasn't for you?"
...
"Father is going to run a workshop?" Dheinach said, half surprised, half amused. "He's going to be a craftsman? With those aprons? That is exciting!"
"Yes, indeed," said Shinas, during a walk back home from the Market Square. "He is going to carve wood, work with it. Maybe your brothers will learn how to work with wood too, with him."
"Why not I?" she asked offendedly.
"You are going to come with me, that's why," Shinas assured Dheinach.
"Where to?"
"That, you will see soon," Shinas rubbed Dheinach's hair.
They walked around the street known as Deluin Street, about three blocks away from where they live. Throughout the street, Dheinach realized it was a craftsman avenue full of workshops for tailors, carpenters, tinkers and blacksmiths. Eventually, they stopped in front of a small, old-looking yet neat blacksmith. It had one window, and they could see an old fylla working on a light plate armor with full focus. Shinas noticed the initials 'F' and 'N' just above the door. She sighed, and entered inside; telling Dheinach to wait outside.
Dheinach saw how the old blacksmith greeted Shinas cheerfully, then started to listen what she has to say with a soft smile on his face. He gazed outside the window for a second, directly at Dheinach - then he turned his gaze back to Shinas. After a while, he rubbed his chin, slowly replying Shinas. He nodded several times, holding Shinas on the shoulder; then smiled. After a while, they came out of the shop together.
Blacksmith slowly approached Dheinach, eventually kneeling in front of her.
"My, my," he said with a dreamy voice. "This is our little, strong fylla, then? She looks just like a raven, Lady Shinas."
Shinas smiled.
"So, do you want to learn how to be a blacksmith, work with iron, other ores?" he asked.
Dheinach was surprised: she wasn't aware that she was here as an initiate apprentice for this old man, and that was just the moment she realized it.
"Um, well, I guess?" she could say.
"Oh, you did not tell her, did you?" he then laughed, holding Dheinach's shoulder. "No worries. You indeed look like a strong girl, unexpectedly, even - if you accept being my apprentice, I can give you a trial. Being a craftsman is not easy, young one."
Dheinach did not know what to say, so she just nodded.
"Perfect! My name is Fauran Norlach, some refer to me as Phavuil, for I am very interested in birds!" He was cheerful. Dheinach could not remember seeing a more cheerful man than him in N'ya from the very first time she set foot in this city.
"I am Dheinach Scharren-El'nar," she said.
"A double surname, oh, so you are Syeran?" he asked, rather surprised. "Good, good!"
He held his hand forward for Dheinach to shake. Dheinach did so.
"So," He turned to Shinas. "When shall we start? I have a lot of work to attend to, that was just the time for an apprentice, to be honest." Then he turned to Dheinach. "Though, do not get too excited, for if you fail, that means you can't remain my apprentice. Do you understand, Dheinach?"
Dheinach was amazed how he could manage to sound so positive even when threatening her.
"Yes, sir," she could say.
"Not sir, but Master," he said. "You are my apprentice now, as I am your Master."
"Yes... Master," she said.
"Now, my apprentice, I want you to run inside and observe the shop," he said. "I will have a word with your mother."
Dheinach did what she was told.
"She is very strong, that's for sure," Fauran rubbed his beard. "She has a great power inside. I will do my best."
"We will appreciate, Master Fauran," Shinas said. "We wish her to be a worthy craftsman."
"Who knows," he shrugged. "Maybe she will become something... more."
...
Fauran came inside the shop and observed his new young blacksmith apprentice, after Shinas left. Dheinach, as well, observed him back with curiosity.
"So," Fauran said, folding his arms. "Have you ever worked with ingots and a hammer?"
"No, Master, I have not," she replied, rather hesitantly.
"I see, I see, no problem," he smiled, as he reached for a blacksmith hammer. "This is called a hammer, young one. This will be an extension of your body from now on. This is how you shape metals; of course, with the help of fire."
He slowly approached one of the smaller forges, taking a spike-shaped metal. It looked very hot, apparently.
"This is a dark metal we fylla call eurin," he said, before starting to hit the spike from the edge slowly. "This is going to be a sword, oh and hear me, a very good one!"
"So, you make only armors and weapons, Master?" Dheinach asked.
"Mostly, yes," he nodded. "But not always. There are more peaceful things I make, when I want to. But for now, that is what we will be learning, young one."
...
Months passed, and Dheinach spent her entire time in the blacksmith, learning to shapen less challenging metals into armor and weapons. Each day passing, Fauran admired her commitment to hard work and her fierce character more and more; there were many hours he watched her working on her assignments. She did not differ hard assignments from easy ones; the care she's put into her work was equal. She never slacked, she never got tired. She was serious, respectful; but definitely not boring. In any case, there were two features Fauran realized in her which surprised him the most; she was strong, and she had an iron will. She did not question the orders, and no questionable orders were given to her. It was, from time to time, like she had no life but only her hammer and the metals to shapen. Eventually, the streetsfolk started to address her as Raven, Jael, in Solian language; not only because her dark, shiny and long hair and dark, Syeran skin tone; but also because her cold-blooded, committed, straight and consistent attitude.
The progress she took was remarkable and unexpectable, even to the experienced blacksmith.
...
One night, at her fifth year in N'ya and with her Master Fauran, a man with a dark hood entered the blacksmith; at an hour when Fauran was out elsewhere.
"How can I help you, stranger?" she said, while forging a sword. She wiped her sweat.
"I am looking for Fauran Norlach, the blacksmith," he replied. His voice was straight and emotionless.
Dheinach raised an eyebrow, she stopped forging and dropped her hammer on the anvil. "He is out," she said suspiciously. "I am her apprentice. What business have you?"
"None that concerns you," he said. "Tell me when he will be arriving, little one."
"I'd change that tone, if I were you, hooded man," she said challengingly. "You are not giving the best impression for me to call for my master, since you are rather threatening."
"Oh, what if not?" he replied. He slowly reached for his dagger on his belt. "Will you kill me?"
"You are not threatening me here, scum," she glared. "Begone, or I'll slit your throat!"
Hooded man attempted to throw the dagger to her, but before being able to do it, Dheinach grabbed one of the daggers on the shelf next to her and with an unexpected agility, she jumped on the hooded man. He blocked her first reckless attack. Dheinach realized he was not attacking but merely defending himself, and in her confusion, he disarmed Dheinach and held his dagger to her throat. She spit on his face.
"Enough," said a familiar voice. It was Fauran, dressed in black. He was wearing a dark, long cloak, and Dheinach could see two long daggers hanging from his belt. He made a gesture with his head, and the hooded man bowed his head; shortly after he left.
"What was th-"
"Come with me, my apprentice," he said; much more serious than he usually were. "We have things to discuss."
"You are right, my love," he said calmly, yet sad. "But this is an entire different system here. Things do not work like that. We are not in Syera anymore, do not forget. Our reputation apparently died along Syera herself. We will do what we must; anger, we should not allow to overtake our souls."
"But!" glared Shinas in anger, hitting the table she's sitting behind. She gasped, then exhaled in surrender, not saying anything else.
"I know and feel your disappointment," he said softly, after walking behind Shinas' chair to touch her shoulder. "We are not lustful people. We never were. That, we owe our reputation to. Our kin is cold-blooded, which I consider a gift. I am also a craftsman - you know how much I wanted to run a workshop all my life; don't you? Performing art. Working on wood. Carving it. I am sure it is not as bad as you think, Shinas. For the children, at least, we have to do our best to make it not as bad as you think."
"What should we do with the kids?" Shinas asked.
"They should be trained as crafters, too, what else? At least until the time they decide what they will do for themselves. Well, I can take the boys to train them," Dyrun shrugged. "The girl is strong, almost stronger than her brothers. I am not sure if she can work with the wood, she needs something... tougher." He smiled.
"You have a point," Shinas said. "What about I talk to that blacksmith north of Deluin Street you know? Maybe he can help us?"
"That sounds just fine, he is a wise man," Dyrun approved. "Please do so. See? That is not as bad! Our kids will be raised as worthy, creative minds instead of being suffocated inside the bureocracy of Syeran nobility. I consider this fortunate."
"Oh, Dyrun," she said, looking behind with an admiring smile. "What would have happened to us if it wasn't for you?"
...
"Father is going to run a workshop?" Dheinach said, half surprised, half amused. "He's going to be a craftsman? With those aprons? That is exciting!"
"Yes, indeed," said Shinas, during a walk back home from the Market Square. "He is going to carve wood, work with it. Maybe your brothers will learn how to work with wood too, with him."
"Why not I?" she asked offendedly.
"You are going to come with me, that's why," Shinas assured Dheinach.
"Where to?"
"That, you will see soon," Shinas rubbed Dheinach's hair.
They walked around the street known as Deluin Street, about three blocks away from where they live. Throughout the street, Dheinach realized it was a craftsman avenue full of workshops for tailors, carpenters, tinkers and blacksmiths. Eventually, they stopped in front of a small, old-looking yet neat blacksmith. It had one window, and they could see an old fylla working on a light plate armor with full focus. Shinas noticed the initials 'F' and 'N' just above the door. She sighed, and entered inside; telling Dheinach to wait outside.
Dheinach saw how the old blacksmith greeted Shinas cheerfully, then started to listen what she has to say with a soft smile on his face. He gazed outside the window for a second, directly at Dheinach - then he turned his gaze back to Shinas. After a while, he rubbed his chin, slowly replying Shinas. He nodded several times, holding Shinas on the shoulder; then smiled. After a while, they came out of the shop together.
Blacksmith slowly approached Dheinach, eventually kneeling in front of her.
"My, my," he said with a dreamy voice. "This is our little, strong fylla, then? She looks just like a raven, Lady Shinas."
Shinas smiled.
"So, do you want to learn how to be a blacksmith, work with iron, other ores?" he asked.
Dheinach was surprised: she wasn't aware that she was here as an initiate apprentice for this old man, and that was just the moment she realized it.
"Um, well, I guess?" she could say.
"Oh, you did not tell her, did you?" he then laughed, holding Dheinach's shoulder. "No worries. You indeed look like a strong girl, unexpectedly, even - if you accept being my apprentice, I can give you a trial. Being a craftsman is not easy, young one."
Dheinach did not know what to say, so she just nodded.
"Perfect! My name is Fauran Norlach, some refer to me as Phavuil, for I am very interested in birds!" He was cheerful. Dheinach could not remember seeing a more cheerful man than him in N'ya from the very first time she set foot in this city.
"I am Dheinach Scharren-El'nar," she said.
"A double surname, oh, so you are Syeran?" he asked, rather surprised. "Good, good!"
He held his hand forward for Dheinach to shake. Dheinach did so.
"So," He turned to Shinas. "When shall we start? I have a lot of work to attend to, that was just the time for an apprentice, to be honest." Then he turned to Dheinach. "Though, do not get too excited, for if you fail, that means you can't remain my apprentice. Do you understand, Dheinach?"
Dheinach was amazed how he could manage to sound so positive even when threatening her.
"Yes, sir," she could say.
"Not sir, but Master," he said. "You are my apprentice now, as I am your Master."
"Yes... Master," she said.
"Now, my apprentice, I want you to run inside and observe the shop," he said. "I will have a word with your mother."
Dheinach did what she was told.
"She is very strong, that's for sure," Fauran rubbed his beard. "She has a great power inside. I will do my best."
"We will appreciate, Master Fauran," Shinas said. "We wish her to be a worthy craftsman."
"Who knows," he shrugged. "Maybe she will become something... more."
...
Fauran came inside the shop and observed his new young blacksmith apprentice, after Shinas left. Dheinach, as well, observed him back with curiosity.
"So," Fauran said, folding his arms. "Have you ever worked with ingots and a hammer?"
"No, Master, I have not," she replied, rather hesitantly.
"I see, I see, no problem," he smiled, as he reached for a blacksmith hammer. "This is called a hammer, young one. This will be an extension of your body from now on. This is how you shape metals; of course, with the help of fire."
He slowly approached one of the smaller forges, taking a spike-shaped metal. It looked very hot, apparently.
"This is a dark metal we fylla call eurin," he said, before starting to hit the spike from the edge slowly. "This is going to be a sword, oh and hear me, a very good one!"
"So, you make only armors and weapons, Master?" Dheinach asked.
"Mostly, yes," he nodded. "But not always. There are more peaceful things I make, when I want to. But for now, that is what we will be learning, young one."
...
Months passed, and Dheinach spent her entire time in the blacksmith, learning to shapen less challenging metals into armor and weapons. Each day passing, Fauran admired her commitment to hard work and her fierce character more and more; there were many hours he watched her working on her assignments. She did not differ hard assignments from easy ones; the care she's put into her work was equal. She never slacked, she never got tired. She was serious, respectful; but definitely not boring. In any case, there were two features Fauran realized in her which surprised him the most; she was strong, and she had an iron will. She did not question the orders, and no questionable orders were given to her. It was, from time to time, like she had no life but only her hammer and the metals to shapen. Eventually, the streetsfolk started to address her as Raven, Jael, in Solian language; not only because her dark, shiny and long hair and dark, Syeran skin tone; but also because her cold-blooded, committed, straight and consistent attitude.
The progress she took was remarkable and unexpectable, even to the experienced blacksmith.
...
One night, at her fifth year in N'ya and with her Master Fauran, a man with a dark hood entered the blacksmith; at an hour when Fauran was out elsewhere.
"How can I help you, stranger?" she said, while forging a sword. She wiped her sweat.
"I am looking for Fauran Norlach, the blacksmith," he replied. His voice was straight and emotionless.
Dheinach raised an eyebrow, she stopped forging and dropped her hammer on the anvil. "He is out," she said suspiciously. "I am her apprentice. What business have you?"
"None that concerns you," he said. "Tell me when he will be arriving, little one."
"I'd change that tone, if I were you, hooded man," she said challengingly. "You are not giving the best impression for me to call for my master, since you are rather threatening."
"Oh, what if not?" he replied. He slowly reached for his dagger on his belt. "Will you kill me?"
"You are not threatening me here, scum," she glared. "Begone, or I'll slit your throat!"
Hooded man attempted to throw the dagger to her, but before being able to do it, Dheinach grabbed one of the daggers on the shelf next to her and with an unexpected agility, she jumped on the hooded man. He blocked her first reckless attack. Dheinach realized he was not attacking but merely defending himself, and in her confusion, he disarmed Dheinach and held his dagger to her throat. She spit on his face.
"Enough," said a familiar voice. It was Fauran, dressed in black. He was wearing a dark, long cloak, and Dheinach could see two long daggers hanging from his belt. He made a gesture with his head, and the hooded man bowed his head; shortly after he left.
"What was th-"
"Come with me, my apprentice," he said; much more serious than he usually were. "We have things to discuss."
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