"The floor needs sweeping, Aoi," said Gemil, handing me a broom.
"Uhhhh, it looks swept enough to me," I replied.
"Kail sa nala tia na mara war xea magiwa!"
"So where should I start then?"
I wasn't all that fluent in Adammion but I could very much understand 'or else you're fired' in many different languages.
Being a blacksmith had always been my dream since I was a kid. It's not been something to brag about to my friends (or anyone) but each time I entered the lecturer's room in college, the loud and metallic smell of iron being banged filled my nostrils. It was the best feeling ever, probably bad for my health but still.
However, my dad had no problem disagreeing with me on the topic of being a blacksmith. And other ones too.
5 Years Ago
"I didn't raise you up to be pounding pieces of metal all day!"
"You didn't raise me up at all," I murmured under my breath.
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"You know what I mean."
"Wait, you don't really think I left you and your mom for someone else do you?"
"Honestly, I don't know. All I know is you left. As to why you left, I really couldn't care less. Besides, Mom told me you left because of some other...hag wh-"
"Don't call her that!"
"Oh? So it is true then? That's weird. A second ago you just denied it. I wonder, is my old man suffering from Alzheimer's?" I chuckled sadly.
As I turned to get my coat, a 100 Addai note placed in its breast pocket caught my eye. I figured I meant to buy something earlier but forgot. As I pondered upon it, the mess in front of me began to speak. Not that I cared though.
I ignored what he had to say and walked out the door, closing it behind me. Not before I chipped in a final comment.
"Maybe being a disappointment is genetic then."
"You know, when I applied to be your apprentice, I didn't think I'd be sweeping floors," I complained.
"When you sent your application in, you wrote about how you'd do anything even it meant cleaning bathrooms. Trust me, I'm doing you a favor."
"Um...I don't remember writing that."
Old man Gemil was the town's only blacksmith and he was the one who got me so interested in the job. He made all the weapons and artillery the Allcops used for war. He also never bothered getting an apprentice and would quite literally growl at the very mention of it. Why he chose me honestly still baffles me.
When he hired me, he was stunned at my interest in the art. He was also appalled by my abnormal eagerness towards it. He called it a travesty. A little too much but I couldn't argue with him. I wanted the job.
And to be fair, my blacksmithing career was looking good. I had a good mentor, I was skilled, I was eager to learn, and, all in all, I was pretty damn good at my craft. It was all going according to plan. My purpose was set. That is, till the Rolaves attacked.