Soot smothers my hand as I push open the blacksmith's door. "Fabron?" I call out into the empty workshop, my footsteps echoing as I walk further in. The furnace crackles into the silent room, coals glowing like amber under a desert sun; as it radiates fluttering embers into the air. I saunter towards the counter. Swords, knives and axes hang along the wall behind the battered oak, each glistening in the light from the window adjacent.

"You're back sooner than I thought" Fabron calls back brightly, emerging from a door behind the furnace in the back of the room. He strides towards me with a cheerful smile and lands a heavy pat on my shoulder, ash puffing into the air from the impact. I return his infectious smile, running my hand through my hair and following him to the counter.

"Ah! Yeah, deadline is shorter than I thought" I grimace back at him with a solemn smile. Fabron laughs wearily at my reply, a sympathetic smile sweeping to replace the once cheerful grin.

"Well then..." Fabron claps his hands together. "That'll be why ya look glum and... sweaty," he says pausing to emphasise his teasing comments to my dishevelled face. Fabron reaches under the counter and throws a tattered rag at me. Catching it I laugh, blotting the sweat from my brow.

"No, I'm sweaty cause of your fucking furnace. You really need more windows in here, Fab." I retort back, the corners of my mouth itching to a smile. Fabron raises his brow and reaches below the counter once more, instead of a tattered rag he unveils a small bottle of dark liquor. The bottle appearing smaller than its actual size in Fabron's burly hand. He places the liquor onto the counter with a thud and slides it towards me.

"Not up for the usual humour, ay?" Fabron muses with a hearty laugh. I take the bottle and relish in the warmth of the liquor as it comforts my chest. With a small grunt of appreciation, I place the bottle back to the counter. My eyes meet Fabron's and I lean onto the counter, pressing my elbows onto the uneven surface.

"What do ya need? Ya look thoughtful and stoic, like those fuckin' stuck up scholars!" Fabron laughs and pushes my shoulder, forcing me to stand straight. 'He's got a point, I need to stop wallowing' I remind myself and chuckle back to his remark.

"Yeah, eh. Sorry! I need a new blade" I say sheepishly, dropping my blunt knife onto the wooden block. The knife clatters between us as we stare at the edge of the blade. Dull and blunt, the metal refusing to shine in the light of the window like it once did. No matter how much I would love to keep the knife, the blade wouldn't survive another bout of sharpening. I frown as I study the cracks speckled along the edge of my trusty weapon.

Fabron pouts disapprovingly, his brow knotting into heavy creases at the top of the bridge of his nose. With a heavy sigh and a shake of his head Fabron turns his attention to the array of weaponry behind him, his eyes darting over a suitable replacement. "Hmm, yeah this one's damned. By the Gods Sil! What do you do to them?" He tuts and picks out a new dagger, placing it beside my well used one. I look between the two blades, amused by the contrast as the sharpened edge of the proposed knife glints in the soft light, before returning my gaze to Fabron.

"Ropes" I reply with a nonchalant shrug. Fabron raises his brow and taps his hands along the edge of the counter top, pushing himself back to lean against the wall behind him, a smirk creeping into the corners of his lips. "I'm not even gonna ask..." he muses, throwing a hand into the air lazily as he chuckles to himself and he shakes his head to his feet.

I look over to Fabron, his shoulders shake as he stifles his laugh. "Not like that! You dirty twat" I reply defensively and look to the floor with a grin. Shaking my head to the floor as I think of how I could better explain my usage of my weapons.  Hearing the floorboard creak as fabron shifts his weight forward, I look up to meet the blacksmith's humoured gaze as he leans forward over the counter.

"Right! Enough about your 'activities'..." Fabron begins, looking over to the door in the back of his workshop. "I have some new stuff. Got myself a deal with a sorceress..." He says in a hushed tone as his eyes return to mine. "If you're looking to get something, enchanted?" Fabron's gaze lingers on mine, I take a moment to ponder his offer. Enchanted weaponry will cost more, but if I am going to survive this job I could sacrifice some of my other supplies for this.

"As long as it ain't ropes" I finally say with a smirk, which earns a hearty laugh from Fabron. He pushes himself back from the counter and saunters over to me, jutting his hip out to avoid colliding with the counter's corner. Fabron wraps an arm around my shoulder and guides me to the door at the back of his smithery. He pauses as his hand wraps around the door handle, turning the handle and pushing the door open.

The room is dark with each wall lined with tall shelves, each one labelled with foreign words of enchantments. I walk over to a shelf by my left and my eyes dart over the embellished boxes that litter the shelf. Some cases leant at angles while others are stored flat. Each case has a label and I run my thumb over one of the steel engravings. 'Iltheria Bow... the hell does it mean?'  The thought echoes through my mind; as suggestions of the enchantment's quality battle the title, for priority of my attention. 'Maybe, it's an plant? Or a poison?' I muse to myself. Frabon's voice breaks my spiralling questions and his hand claps onto my back.

"So, what are ya up against this time?" Fabron asks as he pushes me further into the room, his voice laced with amusement to my curiosity. He drops his hand from my back and entwines a chain into his hands, swinging it's blade in front of his legs. "That... I'm not sure of yet..." I say solemnly, leaning my shoulder against the shelf beside me. My fingers tangle with the strings of my satchel feeling for the comfort of familiarity. An anxious habit I had developed over the years. The strings roll around my fingertips as they travel to check the knot hadn't been tampered with.

"I've heard it's been protected by Serefina" A timid smile rising to my lips, the thought of what enchantments she has placed onto the Crith sends an electric shiver down my spine. I look up to see Fabron staring at me with wide eyes, the blade now gently sways in front of him. 'Great, even Fab's scared... I'm screwed,' I chew the inside of my lip as I wait for him to reply.

"Thirweld's witch?" He musters out, slugging the blade into his palm. The hilt landing with a loud slap to his skin. "Apparently, yeah." I open my bag and gingerly pull out the papers from Enoch, reaching them out towards Fabron for him to look over. He takes the small wad of papers and skims through the jagged writing.

"Well, I'll be damned... Ya got a whole lot of nothing here, ain't ya?" Fabron raises his brow and hands the papers back to me. I place them back into my satchel and intricately tie the strings to keep the bag locked. I shake my head, "hmph, nothing useful" I huff back. Fabron shoots me a sympathetic smile and walks over to a shelf behind him, pulling out a small box and dusts off the soot. How this accumulation of soot had gotten into his store room, I would never know; the furnace was at the other end of the workshop far away from the door.

"Let's see what I can add to that holster of yours." He smiles to me and opens the case, flashing a plain dagger to me. I raise my brow to the ordinary blade, it appeared as nothing special. The blade curves towards the tip, perfectly polished, its hilt wrapped in a navy stained leather and silver embellishments glint at its base. It was nothing revolutionary to the eye. I glance back up at Fabron, his face riddled with excitement as he extends the box towards me; tilting it in gesture for me to pick it up. I touch my fingers along the blade before grasping the dagger and rolling the handle into my palm.

"What does it do? I'm hoping you're not this excited over a basic blade." I muse as I look back up at Fabron from studying the knife. He chuckles and rolls his eyes to my naivety. I cross my arms over my chest and stare back at him as he turns and grabs a leather bound book, the pages flopping on to the cover with a slap as he sifts through. Finally, he jabs a finger to a page and smiles triumphantly.

"It is enchanted with.. Trathral, which means..." Fabron trails off as he reads the weapons qualities. I sigh and roll my eyes. "Do you not know what everything does, Fab?" I tease with a smirk as my gaze rolls back to the blacksmith. He laughs and points a wagging finger at me.

"Do ya expect me to remember every bloody enchantment and its soddin' name?" Fabron chuckles back his reply to me with his cheerful smile. 'I suppose that would be hard' my mind echoes to me, but I glower at him instead of joining his laughter. "Yeah, I do" I continue with my jocular interrogation, pensively holding back my smile of amusement. Fabron waves a hand at me and laughs heartily, his shoulders shaking as he throws his head back.

"Ah-ha! Lay off it, ya prick!" He booms before returning to the page. "Trathal makes ya opponent paralysed, only need the smallest nick of the blade to flesh. The spell does the rest, ya can stab away till' ya heart's content... maybe even steal a finger. Whatever ya do" Fabron shoots me a satisfied smile. My brow shoots up as I pout. "Impressive..." I mumble and my eyes return to the blade in my hand. 'This would be handy... I'll buy this.'

"What does Iltheria do?" I ask Fabron, looking over to the first shelf that I had encountered. Fabron flips through his book again. "Silence" He responds montonically, throwing the book onto the floor behind him and wandering over to the shelf. "I've got bows, pendulum blades and armour... Anything catchin' ya interest, Sil?" Fabron glances over to me and I join him at the shelf.

"You got any shoes that have Iltheria? My current ones are buggered, rain sodded them again!" I say with disdain. 'Gods I hate the rain.' Fabron nods and pulls out a box and hands it to me. I lift the lid and beam as I peer into the box. The leather on the shoes is thick, sturdy and hopefully will withstand the next rainfall.

"They'll do just fine. Thank you, Fab" I smile to the blacksmith before placing the shoes by the dagger. "And this pendulum blade?" I ask curiously. Fabron picks out four cases and crouches to the floor where he places them in the middle of the room.

"I've got a few. Iltheria, skalfrit, glidum and ynelfier." He rolls his R's dramatically, opening each case as he names the enchantment. "Do you wanna get your book, Fab?" I chuckle, pointing my crossed arm to the splayed book on the floor behind him.

"I actually know these ones!" he beams back, enthusiastic to showcase his knowledge. Fabron points to each blade as he begins to explain each enchantment.  "As I have already told ya, Iltheria is silence. So when ya swing ya blade into your opponent's neck, they won't here ya coming and as an added bonus, they won't be able to scream. Ha!" I nod as I listen to his explanation. I wouldn't be taking his suggested use of the weapon as my first resort, I'd rather not have the guilt.

"Skalfrit, now this one' s interesting!" Fabron begins his next explanation with fervour, pointing to the pendulum blade with and excited extended finger. "Heat, this blade can burn through anything. Wood, metal, people..." He trails off before clapping his hands and moving to the next enchantment. "Fab, do you have to be so gory in your explanations? Must you assume I'm going to kill on each job?" I laugh awkwardly, I never wanted to harm anyone when I was working, but sometimes it was unavoidable. If I didn't have Ma and Brienne  reliant on my survival, I would have let one of the guards from a job take me to my demise.

"Gotcha, no killing people, only stealing." Fabron laughs back lightly, throwing his hands in the air in a mock surrender. "Glidum" interrupting his laughter abruptly and pointing to the next case. "This one is a bit boring, just very sharp. Sharper then I could ever get a blade..." Fabron mumbles the latter with a bitter tone as he looks off to the side. His cheerful smile returns and he picks up the final case.

"Ynelfier, this is my favourite! The enchantment takes the life source or energy from another and runs it up the chain to your hand. Not only harming your opponent but healing you at the same time... Now I know, I know. You said no more talk of death, but you could use it on..." He pauses to think. "A cat... No, a plant! You could place the blade into the stem of a flower or trunk of a tree and replenish ya-self." He smiles proudly to his explanations of his enchanted weaponry. I look between the four weapons, I only need one pendulum blade, but each enchantment had its own use. 'I can't take four identical blades, that would be a pain in the arse...'

"Have you got other weapons with these enchantments?" I smirk to Fabron and he smiles, tilts his chin back and crosses his arms. "Aye, I do"
© Danifrayz

#fantasy #story #blacksmith #magic