Chapter 7: Self-made happiness
“… Did something happen’? What’s with that grin?”
As I was preparing my tools, my uncle asked me after he just got out of the shower, now walking around with only a towel around the backyard in his lower part like it was summer.
“Hm? Was I grinning?… Maybe I was thinking of something funny.”
“You’re not even aware of what you’re thinking? Better take a pause from school tomorrow and focus on work. You’re becoming weird.”
Being called weird by a dude in a towel wandering outside in such weather… It is worrying indeed.
I stared at him with a poker face as he searched for more wine completely unfazed, but then I thought again at his words,
“Hmm… Even though I just started?”
“Normally the start is harder than anything else.”
“Yeah… Alright.”
Thinking that maybe it was a good idea to just stop going until the waters calm down for a bit, I then started hammering the red steel right after eating, preparing the blade for the sword. Especially because it was the first week of school I thought that it shouldn’t be such a big deal skipping.
Because all the metal I was able to find was in form of wires, bars, or some other random forms, I had to melt them in my uncle’s stone cups then pour them in casting and create steel or iron ingots.
“You got a lot of iron this time, where did you find this?”
“Hehe~, some idiot threw s***-ton of metal trash and barbwire. I was able to get them all after night fell. Someone tried to call the cops but I was faster and got outta there.”
Thanks to all the working sites outside the neighborhood, there was also a lot of iron being thrown to be recycled here and there, giving me the possibility to just sneak around at night when the guards are asleep and grab anything I need then run away with my bag filled. Many tried to call the cops on us, but after learning from my uncle where to go and how to sneak to not be seen while also clothed fully black, nobody was able to give any kind of description of me and neither to find my trace. I seriously had no wish to pay a few hundred euros for metal when I could just get it from others’ trash, my uncle teaching all of this to me and so becoming partners in crime.
“Nice~, however. You’ll have to process it so it won’t oxidize too fast. You know how to make steel, yes?”
“I need coal…”
“Yep! Good luck. Imma go ‘n drink something while you’re away.”
“Sigh~ God f******-“
And so I went to a supermarket and brought more coal, out of my money, of course.
Although there were many trees around, they were mostly inside other people’s courtyards and the called branches around weren’t even worth taking into consideration to make coal as it was too few. There were indeed some trees planted by the government here and there, but sure enough, even uncle and I weren’t crazy enough to chop down trees in the middle of the night for some free coal. Although we did consider it.
After getting back home, two bags of coal for BBQ were now placed inside a basket, ready to be thrown in a stone bowl together with the iron I gathered.
The coal was needed to create some kinda chemical reaction with the iron under strong fire that would turn into a type of steel so it won’t oxide as fast and give it its silvery luster. Of course, uncle didn’t trouble to explain in more depth and neither did I care enough to search on the internet how the process worked on a chemical level, ending up calling it “that steeling process of iron with coal”.
I better add double the price for the coal at the total cost of the sword.
I thought annoyed as I waited for the iron to melt and merge with the coal. The process took all day and I was barely able to make two ingots of purified iron, something kinda steel but not quite. Something made out of a thing also called “pigs’ iron” because it looks like dung in its impure form.
I can’t even call this a fully-fledged steel! It’s literally just a piece of s***!
And so I finished the process and quickly went for a shower. As always, my stomach and chest were filled with burnt marks from all the sparks that jumped on me. Old and new scars covered my front while burnt marks would appear here and there whenever I was working.
Uncle said that he hates wearing protective working gear because it cuts from the excitement of blacksmithing… It sounds dumb, but now that I’m doing it myself, I guess I do understand him. After all, not everything can be scientifically explained when it comes to human actions.
I washed off all the dust and smoke, together with the sweat that accumulated, changed into a clean undershirt and a pair of shorts then went to prepare something to eat for uncle and myself.
The house as a whole was still dirty and messy, the kitchen, the bathroom, and my own room being the only places that have been cleaned (by me, of course). My uncle asked me why I wasn’t cleaning the rest, but after I asked for remuneration he frowned displeased then didn’t bring the subject anymore.
“I said I don’t wanna! What’s so hard to understand, you c*nts?!”
“Woah, again?”
As I prepared something light for the night, my uncle’s voice resounded annoyed from his room, making me understand that he was being called by some reenactment organizations which wanted for him to make a live performance and show how a true blacksmith worked.
Because of his well-known abilities as a blacksmith, many reenactment organizations tried to recruit him and show his blacksmithing skills in front of the public at medieval or antique festivals for cultural reasons.
He came into the kitchen after he changed in some clothes with a deep frown and tired face with hair over his eyes, to my shock not even the bottle of wine was in his hand.
“Those fuckers, keeping on annoying me and asking me to have random people stare at me like I’m from a circus. And at such a late hour no less!”
“Is it that bad?”
“Well, you tell me… Having some smart-ass tell you how it should be done because he saw in some documentary on TV, or have some dumb kid touch the red metal and start crying his ass off then have their dumb parents almost f****** sue you because you let that little s*** touch your stuff! Do you have any idea how much I tried not to just take a sword and start purging?!”
“That sounds awful~.”
“Awful it’s your sarcastic ass… Anyway, let’s eat.”
By eleven I was already in bed and, already deciding not to go to school the next day, I was able to sleep till 8 AM. Knowing that uncle normally sleeps till 10, I just made lunch with three sunny eggs each, a few slices of bacon, and a green salad. After eating my share, I went to work.
Back when I barely started working, because there were two of us, my uncle decided to help me make a furnace as well. So after he showed me the hows and whats, I had to command online the materials such as clay, stone, and other such things, then teach me how to make my own furnace after searching for some tutorials on how it’s done and have his assistance. Although it was an old and medieval type of furnace, we still made sure to make it so it would work not only on wood and coal but on gas as well, the gas being cheaper than coal after going in bigger amounts.
We might try to bring the old feeling of a medieval smithy, but whenever it’s conveyable, we bring forth the modern traits and cheat a bit the old style. But who cares? Who’s gonna sue us for that?
I got down to work satisfied, taking out the melted metal and cast it in the form of a sword. Of course, the casted form wasn’t the desired one, so I had to heat it again, then hammer it again, then repeat multiple times until it reached the form I wanted. However, before that, I needed to beat it multiple times to get rid of any free spots inside of it. After each hammer, the sword would start flaming with huge sparks flying around, showing that there was still gas inside that needed to be gotten rid of, otherwise after being hardened in oil, the sword would either be a fragile one or crack from the get-go. Going through both processes, I had to beat it until the form was perfect; with no bumps, with no weird curves, no bends, while sparks flashed and jumped around. In the end, the sword needed to be continuously hammered but not as hard so the metal would solidify in the desired form. Besides all of these processes, there were more things to do, but there was no need for me to enter into more details.
Besides, I’m yet to completely take out the gas and impurities from inside this thing, so I’m yet to even reach the second step of giving it the desired form.
Nevertheless, no matter how much I was complaining, each step was as enjoyable for me, making me feel the same excitement as when I was holding the hammer for the first time after one whole year of smiting.
In the old ages, blacksmiths were quite discriminated between all the craftsmen wherever they were going, the main reason was that they were thought to be wizards of fire and mediums of metal. I can fully understand why they thought such,
Every time I had to craft something with fire, the flames were as if whispering to me when I should give them the metal and when it was done. After that, the metal itself was telling me whenever it could continue taking more hammering when it was too much when I had to go harder or softer. It was like connecting with the elements themselves, and the feeling was ecstatic from the very beginning to the very end when I was finishing the process.
Every time I’m smithing, I feel like the piece of metal itself. With every hit, I’m purifying not just the metal, but myself as well. With every turn inside the furnace, I feel like, besides the impurities, my dark thoughts, my sadness, and my hate are also being burned together. After I place the piece of metal inside the oil to be hardened, I feel completely tranquil and in peace with myself, as if nothing can harm me anymore while all my desires are gone, entering in a peace of mind.
Blacksmithing saved my mind from breaking under the pressure that was weighing on me from all around me, simply by showing me the steps to hardening one’s self to become sturdy enough. Now if I could compare myself with something, it should be a well-forged sword. A sword that has been forged for days and nights, with no impurities, with no hard feelings, only a strong and resilient structure, one able to resist multiple impacts from a hammer.
With every crafted blade, I’m making myself. I never knew that by creating something with my own hands, I’m actually able to work at myself to such a fundamental level.
Working without clothes wasn’t because we were masochists and wanted to feel the pain, but so we could feel the fire better, to be able to communicate with it, and with the metal as well, each spark that landed on us being as if a cry or a laugh from the metal, telling us that we made a mistake and we should review it before the sword turns mad at us, ending up breaking apart, or that we are doing great and we should continue more firmly.
-RIIING~!-
After more than seven hours of continuous work with few pauses, a ring from the door woke both me and my uncle who came to work an hour after I started, from our trance-like-state and my uncle’s face turned as if constipated, knowing already who it was.
“Those motherfuckers-… I swear on my hammer that I’ll end up doing a crime one of these days!”
While cursing annoyed he went toward the door and, as expected, the team from the reenactment organization came to recruit my uncle for their festivities.
Nothing to do with me~, nothing to do with me~.
I ignored my uncle’s roars that continued to resound from the door while I worked on my own. In my ears I was even wearing my earphones so I could listen to some music, these being the second pair this month. Because of the strong heat, all my earphones would break in barely a month, having me change them all the time. Nothing I could do as I found myself addicted to music.
“Sigh~, those fuckers are just so persistent…”
My uncle came back and sat down, but just as he prepared to resume his work-
-RIIING~!-
“Alright, that’s it!”
My uncle then took a sharp sword and went towards the door with heavy steps, me on the other side ignoring it and continuing hammering the sword.
Well, I’m already 18 so~, I can say that I’m an adult accepted by law. I know how to manage my money, so even if he goes to prison I could easily take care of this house. Even better, his cash will come to me~. I’m thinking of investing in that BitCoin thingy that appeared a while back. Although they say to buy low and sell high, it doesn’t seem to go down any time soon now.
I thought to myself amused while thinking of the future. I had no reason to stop him. I was already doing great with smithing as my talent was helping me greatly in crafting while all my money were being invested in gold, silver, and now the new coming crypto, the banks nowadays trying to take any kind of saved money from the bank accounts by inventing new and ridiculous taxes.
It’s not tax evasion if they see that you have no money to impose taxes on. Keke~.
After learning how to sell and accept commands from rich people, making money turned to be secondary, doing just fine on my own.
I guess the only reason why I didn’t return back to my parents’ house was because I simply didn’t need to. There’s nothing that could help me with blacksmithing, and I already took whatever was made of metal from inside so I could use it for my crafts.
.
The uncle then reached the door and after kicking it open, he got out with his sword on his shoulder, roaring loudly,
“Ya fuckers are really tired of living, ah?!-… Who’re you?”
“…”
After he flung the door open, the person who rung the bell wasn’t one or more adults from some kind of organization, but rather a girl wearing a school uniform. Seeing her, uncle was momentarily confused as he couldn’t understand why there was a brat at his doors.
And such a pretty miss at that- no wait a bit… Is this a honey-trap? Those fuckers…
“U-uhm… is this where Leon Roil lives?”
Before the uncle could have any more misunderstandings, the girl opened her mouth, her face still white from the shock she suffered just now.
“Hum? Yeah, that little s*** is staying here. Who’re you?”
L-little… what?
She was momentarily taken aback and didn’t know what to think after seeing Michael. He was wearing crafting gloves while carrying a medieval sword. His long and curly black hair was kept at the back in a ponytail, while his sharp and sunken eyes glared in a way as if dead, but at the same time, as if there was a mocking fire in them. His skin was tanned and burnt marks were visible almost everywhere, especially on his chest and stomach. He was well built but also smelled like alcohol. He was wearing no shirt, only a pair of working dirty jeans; rust and dust covering them in thick layers.
“I… I’m his classmate, Alice-“
“Classmate? You’re his classmate yet hang out with him? Did the teacher force you? Or you’re just that crazy?”
“Eh…?”
Even this person calls me crazy for hanging out with him?!
She frowned annoyed then started shouting at uncle,
“And who are you to him? Why are you calling me crazy just because I’m hanging out with him? Shouldn’t you be glad? Aren’t you a relative of his after all?!”
“Glad? Hah! The only reason why I’m glad he’s here is because he’s making good food and cleans the bathroom. Other than that, he could just f*** off already!”
T-this person it’s terrible!
She couldn’t help disliking him and then she asked once again to meet Leon, thinking that maybe this person was holding him in some dangerous place or something.
“He’s working right now.”
“Is he? Or you’re forcing him to work for you?”
“As if that bastard would work for me. His prices are ridiculous…”
He spat frustrated and the girl was momentarily surprised, not expecting such an answer. The uncle thought for a moment and then a vicious smile formed on his face,
From what I can tell, this girly holds that bastard quite dearly. I wonder how she’ll react once she sees that I and he aren’t that different? I’d want to see her suddenly turn and run as far as the eye can see, kekeke~.
“Why not come in and see for yourself? For now, he’s working on a new project so I’d recommend waiting until he finishes, only if you won’t get bored, that is.”
“Watch him work? You mean watch him how he makes weapons?”
“So you do know that he’s a blades-smith, good. Now, come in.”
The uncle turned to leave and left the door open, letting her come on her own. She looked around shocked to see just how messy and chaotic it was inside.
J-just how can someone live in such a mess?! It’s disgusting!… Eh? Is that the kitchen? How come it’s so clean compared to the rest of the house?!
She went further with care so as to not step on something or on some bottle from the floor until she reached the back door from where clanging sounds resounded in a rhythmic manner.
Oah!
Right after she reached outside behind the house and near the open workhouse, a strong wave of heat struck her as two working furnaces were releasing strong flames.
-CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!-
“L-Leon!-…. Hm?”
After recognizing the face of a young man who was continuously beating a flaming blade, at first she wanted to go and greet him, only to stop herself after observing the expression on his face.
He’s… smiling so happily.
A satisfied smile with a tranquil gaze was on his face while he worked seriously at the blade. She continued to stare at him and the more she did so, the more she felt like blushing. His muscles were more evident and ripped than his uncle’s but also slimmer. His tanned skin was luscious because of the sweat and reflected the light of the flames. His hair was wet from sweating and strands of hair were falling down his face more than before. His arms were constantly tensing and relaxing in a manner to conserve as much energy as possible, now appearing even bigger than normal because of the constant hammering, his veins bulging. His tall posture with a strong frame surrounded by wild flames and flying sparks made her feel like she wasn’t looking at a teenager, but at a fully grown blacksmith from a story with swords and magic, looking as if the fire was his familiar while the metal was a part of him.
-CLANG!-
Sparks struck his body and he didn’t even flinch as his smile only widened, making her wonder just how hardened must one’s skin be to not feel such burning sparks hit your bare chest and arms.
One hour, then two hours passed, the dark covering the sky while Leon continued to work with the same satisfied expression on his face, Alice being satisfied with simply looking, feeling like inside a story.
