8-14-2012

Prompt: Create a Hero and give him a hobby and something alive that he loves

Marc smiled at his handiwork. There was something very satisfying about finishing a project, and this one was certainly a project. Between the delicate vines carved into the wooden handle and the deadly smooth end of the scythe, this had to be one of his best creations. Father may think that the carvings took more time than it was worth to the customer, but Marc knew better. Tools like this one were made to survive for generations, and as such they should at least tell a little about who owned them. As much as he would have liked to claim the creation of a design as intricate as this one, he knew that it's future owner was the real creator of the design, he had merely copied it into the wood.

The air was tipped with the sharp scent of molten metal, and he could hear his father working on Johan's new plow. Farm tools were good and all, but there was a certain accomplishment when a fine blade like this one was finished. He tested the balance, as his grandfather would say 'ship shape.'

Marc had heard about ships once, apparently there were in the world waters that were so great that a bridge could not span their width so hollowed logs were tied together and set adrift with large sheets used to capture the wind, like you would capture a dragon with a net. Marc could not imagine anything larger than the stream outside the village gates, but that much water would probably smell good.

Hefting the scythe he tested the new balance. A few well-practiced swings brought a slight snort from Andrea, who stood nearby. Stopping sheepishly, Marc set down the beautiful scythe.

"A proper warrior, aren't you?" Her smile lit up her face brighter than the hottest furnaces.

"A proper blacksmith." His father wouldn't mind him stopping work for a couple of minutes. "My father says that when I am of age he would help me build my own shop nearby."

"Two blacksmiths?" She questioned. "Our town is certainly not large enough for that many."

"Three. My brother will have a shop as well, either that or we will set up shop together."He played with one of his dark curls. "Even if we did split the shop between the two of us I would have enough to start on my own after the next harvest."

"All on your own? Surely not handsome boys like you and your brother." Drat, something about that girl made his voice waver worse than the fog in the summer sun.

"Well, maybe not entirely on my own." He tried to smile suavely, like the hero warriors in the stories that his brother was in love with. It was probably more like  a grimace than a smile, but it wasn't his fault that girls made his knees wobbly. "If I could find someone who would be willing to put up with an oaf like myself."

"You shouldn't be too hard on yourself, you're not quite a man yet." She looked pointedly at the small green dragon watching them carefully from the window. "I'm sure that once you have loosed your guardian you'll have the first choice of any the maidens in the village."

"Well there is one that I am looking very forward to talking to more often."

"really?"The sun was catching the bronze in her golden hair. It was gorgeous, she was a goddess. "Who might that be, I wonder?"

Before he could say another word he heard another voice, this one coming from behind the smithy.

"Marc! Marc, where are you?" Eric. Of course he would ruin a moment like this one. "I have to show you what I found." He bounded around the corner and knocked the scythe to the ground... grinding the fine black mountain dust into the designs that Marc had spent the afternoon carving.

"Hello Eric." Andrea smiled. "Found something fascinating?"

"Of course!" He showed her a piece of metal warped and twisted in his hand. "It dosen't look like much now, but as soon as you take it to the sun you can see what is so fascinating about it."

The bright beam reflected off the metal's surface hit Marc in his eyes. "Aarrgh! Eric, turn that blasted bit of sun out of my eyes!"

"Sorry Marc." Eric turned to Andrea, "see those lines there?"

"Of course I can, I'm not blind, am I?" she giggled. "What are those lines?"

"My grandfather was telling me about this, it's a type of ore that is stronger than the bronze that we smelt here in the smithery. This is the metal used to make swords."

"Like the ones in the gypsy's stories." She smiled. "May I hold it?"

Eric's dragon finally caught up with him, growling it's disapproval. It hated when Eric went off on his adventures in the woods. The dragon had to be over 400 years old and was beginning to feel it's age. Following someone as crazy as Eric was the last thing on it's mind when it was assigned to the twin at birth.

Andrea gave back the stone. "Marc, do you want to take a look at it? it is rather beautiful for a metal."

Marc's dragon nudged him towards Eric and his stone. It was heavier than most stones, and he could see the iron and another silvery metal twisted together in layers. The filaments were so straight, the metals looked more like a lattice than a stone from the mountains nearby. It had been chipped off a much larger piece. One side already looked half forged. That stone would make a beautiful scythe, or if he could find enough of the metal a proper sword to trade with the gypsies in a moon or so. So intently he looked at the stone.

"It must have come from the sea... it's so silvery." Eric breathed, as he took the stone back.

"I want to see the sea someday." Sighed Andrea, "Can you tell me about the sea Eric?"

Eric started off on one of his stories. He always stole the attention from the fair maidens with his fiery stories that he heard from Mother's parents every trade. No use in trying to talk to her now that Eric was in full story mode. It would be better for him to find the metal to make the sword. The brother that can afford the dowery got the girl in these parts. And if he could just find that metal he would be the most wealthy man in the village.

His green dragon followed him, eyes flashing orange in the twilight. Marc knew that he needed to be quick, but then again, for all his stories Eric rarely wandered too far from the village. Then again, it wasn't like Eric to hunt for rocks either.

Once Upon A Time

Once Upon a Time... those words seem to start some of the most exciting tales that we ever heard in our lives.

You can think of about a hundred tales that people can tell you and help you love and learn though the years... I like to think of our lives as one complex story that allows us to comprehend the troubles around us. However we see the world seems to put less and less into the power of a good story for a more interactive tale like a video game or a web game where we can role play our favorite characters in our favorite universes... or we plug our lives into a television and then wait for things to happen... which they never do.

There is magic that comes from using the spoken word to express your innermost feelings... it makes us dream and hope and grow more and more and more. The more articulate the more you learn about yourself and how you interact with the world around you.

I used to be a writer. ONce I thought that writing was a talent, but then I realized that I needed to write more to become a writer instead of waiting around for inspiration to strike me on the head. Inspiration is not something that makes you have concussions... it is something that you have to train yourself to recognize, like a good hunter can recognize the signs of an animal was around.

This is me writing again. If you enjoy it, thanks... if you have improvements let me know. I am going to write 1000 words a day for the next month to see what happens.