Chapter Two: Annealing
Niall stumbled down the road lost in thought, not aware of his surroundings. His shoulders were hunched and his head down, watching the snow fly as he cut a trail through powder that almost came to his knees. It was late into the night and he felt so tired, but he couldn't rest yet- not until he finished. He had worked for three days without stopping- no it was four, he couldn't be sure. Niall had pounded the metal- folded and pounded it more. It was still fresh in his mind. The metal was soft and with each blow from his hammer it melded to his will and gave way to his imagination. Flexing his right hand tighter around the handle of his hammer, Niall began to simulate the forging. Feeling the metal with each downward stroke, altering its shape, conforming to his desires- it would be beautiful, the best he will have ever made. But he was missing something- some important step that he had to figure it out before he continued.
Niall stopped for a moment to catch his breath and with each laboured exhalation, fozen vapour curled into the wintry air. Large flakes of snow continued to fall, melting as they came to rest on his bald head. The road and trees were enshouded with a blanket of white, which seemed to give off its own faint illumination. Looking back he saw his trail disappear in the distance, it was already being covered over. He had walked for so long, he wasn't sure where he was. But what was it he had to do? It was extremely important.
He knew he hadn't missed a step in the forging, doing everything exactly as it was supposed to be done. He had heated and hammer the metal into submission, over and over again, until the steel was strong. He made sure there wasn't a single flaw in the metal. The blade was annealing now, resting and slowly cooling within a mold of clay. He knew it was perfect. Niall began to get frustrated because he couldn't for the life of him think of what he had to do.
Niall began to notice a path that led off the road. Walking over he noticed it led to a house in the distance, through the trees. He quickly realized it was the Peterson's farm. The Peterson's were friends of his and Fiona's. Niall had often done small jobs for them, and his kids played with their kids. They were good people and Niall had often enjoyed their company. But what was he had to do? Straining to see the house through the trees, Niall thought he saw a flicker of candle light. He began to assume that they were awake at this time of night. 'Maybe the Peterson's can help me figure it out?' Niall thought. He walked down the path, through the tree's, toward the farm house. He began to swing his hammer again, imitating the forging. In his mind he saw the sparks explode. What was it he had to do?
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The Sword Cuts Deep: A Dark Tale of Fantasy Page 4