Weaponsmith - Chapter 27 (Patreon)

Something accompanies Hineni as he walks up the familiar staircase.

An odd, nostalgic noise that he had been doing his best to ignore all night, never looking out of the many darkened windows.

Together with the steps of his heavy body against the stairs that time has forgotten, come the sounds of a thousand smaller ones.

Rain strikes against the roof above his head. It’s easy to ignore downstairs, but up below the ceiling, it’s far more present, far more loud. It’s undeniable. The presence of such a thing, the presence of such an overwhelming force of water, crashing from the sky.

It isn’t even pouring that hard, honestly. It’s not like there’s a storm or anything. They tended to be unusual in winter in this region. No, it’s just an odd shower. Perhaps the clouds are simply letting go of the last of their loads of water, so that they might make room for the fresh loads of winter snow to come.

From the door down that he just came through, there’s a small staircase that takes three steps up and then takes a sharp left turn, heading six steps further up. As a child, these stairs had always felt insurmountably large. He still remembers the visions of standing down below at their bottom as a young boy, wondering how someone as small as himself was supposed to climb something like this?

He was just small and they were so, so, very big.

Hineni steps up the next two steps, skipping one inadvertently.

They’re actually very small stairs. Cozy, perhaps, even, as they wind around inward and upward in a reversed ‘L’ shape, creating a small nook down by the door.

Hineni stands at the top of the staircase for the first time in over ten years and stares around the room. It is dark.

They used to live up here. The downstairs area was for business, mostly. The big room that he sleeps in now was the suite. He doesn’t know the prices, but he does know that it was an expensive room to rent. The other rooms were also all for rent. Their bath, their house, their dining hall, their kitchen, everything in this building was meant to serve other people.

But this? This up here, this small room that had once felt like it was so much larger, this was theirs. His, his mother’s, his father’s.

Hineni looks around the area, trying to see what he can see. But it’s dark. In a way, he feels relieved and lets out a sigh. Oh well. Maybe it’s time to go to bed then. He tried, right? The man shrugs and turns around.

“Can I come up?” asks Sockel’s voice from down below, a glow rising from the old lantern that she has taken from her room.

Hineni stands there for a moment and to his confusion and surprise… feels relief once again.

“Sure,” says Hineni, listening to her light steps jog up the stairs. He looks back around the room, watching the light of her lantern fill the many full corners. There’s just this one room and the one behind it. This is the ‘living area’. It’s just a small, rectangular space, nested under the angles of the roof. There’s an old rug that he is surprised to see the smallness of and there’s a table that he is surprised to see the smallness of.

Hineni turns around, looking at the elf, Sockel.

Was everything always this small?

He looks back to the doors, to the windows that rain slides down, to the steep angles of the roof that is not far above his head.

“Boy, you sure have a lot of space here,” says Sockel. “It’s way bigger than the guild. We only have two rooms upstairs and the back storage. “This used to be the guild in town, right?” she asks curiously.

“It was,” nods Hineni, walking to the only door available to him. Grabbing it, he pulls on the handle. “That was a while ago.”

It doesn’t budge.

The man furls his brow, pulling on it again.

“You gotta really pull on it,” suggests Sockel, making a wobbling motion with her hand. “We have a door like that too. It’s old. The guy who made the handles back then wasn’t the best,” she explains.

He looks at it for a second and then, simply yanks on it with most of his strength.

The door creaks, the moisture expanded wood sliding closely along the boards of the floor, making an unpleasant scraping sound. A rush of old air comes out, freed from its prison and pushes over him, carrying with it a smell that he had forgotten. How it could have lingered here for all of this time, he doesn’t know. But like a trapped spirit, it strokes his face once lovingly as it departs, heading for wherever this odd, cold draft of air that he feels is stemming from.

Water lily.

“When you close it again,” says Sockel. “You gotta jiggle the handle.” Hineni looks at the small room, stepping inside. There’s really only a bed and a nightstand with an old vase in it. “That stops it from getting stuck next time. Don’t ask me why.”

Hineni stares around the room, taking it all in. This was their bedroom. They had all shared the one bed. He had forgotten about this. It’s all a vague memory that has become… not foggy, but rather obscured, as if coated in thick layers of ash. The man blinks. “What did you say?” he asks, turning back towards Sockel.

The elf shrugs. “You gotta jiggle it,” she says, nodding her head to the door-handle. “Stops it from getting stuck.”

Hineni listens to the rain, staring at the door handle for a while and then at the looking-glass adorning the wall by the window. A mirror.

The man on the other side of it, the stranger who he sees looking back at himself, is big.

He had never really noticed. His muscles, his shape.

Or maybe the room is just small? It’s hard to say.

He steps out, Sockel taking a step back as Hineni grabs the handle of the door and after he pulls it shut, he jiggles it.

Not to make sure that it’s really locked, like he had assumed he always did downstairs for the front door. Rather, it was just a childhood habit.

You have to jiggle the door.

“Thanks,” he says, turning to the elf. “Sockel.”

“Uh…” she shrugs. “Sure. So, what’s up?” she asks, looking around. “Why’re you skulking around? Is something wrong?”

Hineni shakes his head. “No. We’re safe. I’m just a paranoid weirdo,” he explains. “You should sleep. Sorry for waking you.” He heads down the stairs, holding onto the railing for a moment. “I’m sure Beni will be fine,” he reassures, nodding to her as he makes his way down first.

In truth, he knows that she wasn’t asleep at all. She was sharing the same worries that he does, only for another.

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Hineni is out of aluminum.

He had gone through the entire bag of his father’s materials. His stack of copper has been substantially depleted as well. A fortune. He’s given away a fortune. With the amount of daggers that he’s given away for free, he could have saved a handsome sum of money that they’ll need for the winter. They need food, they need wood, they need metal for him to work with.

But instead, he has poured his savings and his assets into this task.

Hineni lets out an exhausted breath, setting down the very last dagger onto the table.

Twenty seven.

He had made nine the first day. Nine the second day and nine the third day. Nine is three daggers times three, so it’s a good number. And he made those nine daggers for three days in total, so that’s a good number. All together, twenty seven.

Is twenty seven a good number? Hineni closes his eyes, thinking.

Three fits into twenty seven nine times.

His eyes open.

Three fits into nine three times.

The man’s hands clutch the table, a laugh leaving his throat. It’s perfect. It’s perfect. It’s - !

“What’s so funny?” asks Rhine?

Hineni composes himself, clearing his throat. “You’ll understand when you’re older,” he says, giving an easy answer to the question.

“Huh?”

In truth, this might be true in a way. He isn’t sure if his own personality is just perhaps… soft. But being around Obscura has changed him in a way. He’s taken on ticks of hers, habits, obsessions. This isn’t entirely unheard of, some gods have more direct influences over their followers than others. Although, this need not be tied to godhood, in all honesty. Just being around other people will bring you to adapt to their habits.

He doesn’t see this in himself. But he sees it in the boy.

Feeling his eyes turn back towards him, Rhine stands up straighter.

Hineni nods to him. “You’ve done well, Rhine,” praises Hineni. The boy is really a powerful asset. His river-magic might be situational, sure. But his willingness to work hard, even at things that he isn’t good at, his bringing in of new ideas, his eagerness to prove himself has earned him high merit in Hineni’s eyes.

And to think that he himself had cast someone like this from his doorstep.

Hineni points at the daggers. “We’re giving these away too. This is the last batch. But I promise that you’ll get paid from the next weapons we make,” he says, nodding.

“Paid?” asks Rhine. “You mean like, next month?” asks Rhine. “You already paid me the other day.” He looks around. “Is this some kind of test? Is the owl-god testing me?” he asks. The boy plants his hands on his hips. “Rhine! The river-wizard isn’t swayed by money!” he says proudly. Though, something seems… off with him today. Hineni can’t place it.

Hineni blinks. Oh. Right. Most employees and apprentices get their pay bi-monthly and not based on their performance. Hell, some people actually had to pay tribute to their god to be allowed to work for them. There are far more takers for such offers than one would think. Cosmic power is cosmic power, after all. Even if you are ‘just’ getting from the god of forging.

“Didn’t you come to me for a job?” asks Hineni, raising an eyebrow. “I figured you needed money.”

Rhine’s hands stay where they are, but his smile fades, his eyes continuing to stare in the same direction.

Hineni thinks for a moment. “But, I guess if you’re from the tower-quarter, then this is just scraps for you.” The man frowns as he looks back down at Rhine’s dirty, but expensive looking robe. The boy clearly doesn’t need money. The unworked fabric of that robe had cost probably about a few hundred Obols just as raw cloth. He shakes his head. But… then why else would he be so desperate for a job? “Rhine. What’s your story?”

“Uh…” The boy shrugs. “Nothing much!” he says. “I’m just me, you know? Haha!”

Hineni stares, not ‘knowing’.

The forge is somewhat quiet for a moment as both of them stare awkwardly at each other. Hineni in confusion and Rhine as if considering something.

“Hey, um… what time is it?” asks Rhine.

“The time?” Hineni squints, looking up towards the window where the metal owl sits, gazing out at the dark sky beyond it. “It’s about two hours to sun up,” says Hineni.

“Oh…” says the boy. Something in his demeanor shifts. His pridefulness sinking.

“What’s the matter, Rhine?” asks Hineni. “Are you tired?”

Rhine rubs his head. “Do you wanna… I mean… uh… do you want to go to the river?” he asks. “I think I might know where some stuff is!” says the boy, clenching his fists, his face shifting as if he had made some decision after all.

“The river…?” Hineni rubs his eyes. “It’s late, Rhine. We can go tomorrow, okay?” says Hineni, grabbing the daggers.

Is this some… social moment? Is there something happening here that he isn’t able to understand because of his lack of experience with people?

Hineni stands there for a second, thinking. Maybe the boy is trying to tell him something? He seems unusually nervous. Maybe the lack of Obscura’s presence is making him jumpy too? And given the bumps and bruises over his body, maybe the boy is just trying to find a way to talk to someone who he trusts? An adult, a person of authority and safety.

Hineni recognizes those marks. He himself, like most others in the orphanage, carried them. The welts left by strikes, by punches, by kicks, all caused by far larger people than other children. But back then, he and all of the others had no-one who they could go to, who they could talk to. He hadn’t even considered this a possibility back then.

Hineni blinks, setting the daggers back down, as he suddenly realizes that it is and that he is this person now for someone else.

“Rhine,” he nods. “Sorry, I’m not good with people,” explains Hineni. “If you want to go to the river, we can.”

The boy seems to feel a great deal of relief. “Really?! Let’s go now!” he says excitedly, running to extinguish the forge.

Hineni sighs, feeling exhausted beyond belief. He honestly doesn’t remember if he’s slept or not for these last three days, so he’s verging towards ‘no’. But someone needs him to step up once again and he, willing to bear this responsibility on his shoulders, is more than happy to do so. This little bit of weight, this tiny bit more, he’s gotten so big, he can carry this too.

Glass shatters outside down the hall. Hineni jolts, turning his head to look towards where the sound had come from. The front of the house.

Hineni grabs the handle to the door of the forge. “RHINE!” he barks, pointing at the boy. “Grab that ladder!” he says, taking the knife from his belt. He hears soggy, damp boots running down the hallways. There are multiple people. “Climb out of the forge window! I’ll take care of them.” Though, he doesn’t know what that means exactly.

But he has the feeling that this time, a simple sleeping spell isn’t going to cut it. But now, he thinks that he’s willing to go further than that. People are counting on him to protect them.

He can smell them.

Frogs.

Rhine, his tough, proud demeanor, cracks in an instant as whatever personal limit the boy has, is reached.

Crying, the boy lifts his shaking hands.

“Rhine?”

“S… ss…” Unable to say whatever he has to say, Rhine makes an ugly sound and looks away as water floods the forge in an instant.

(Rhine) has damaged (Hineni) for {4} DMG with his [Cascade]{Water}

HP: 35/39

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