Weaponsmith - Chapter 40 (Patreon)

Hineni sways from side to side, his legs moving in a surprisingly coordinated fashion, considering that he’s never danced before in his life, let alone with another person, with someone who is holding his hand. He lowers his gaze, looking at the soft tufts of hair that are beneath him, coming from the head that presses itself sideways against his chest as they move, swaying through the sickly moonlight. It shines in through the tall glass windows that line the structure, far and high out of their reach.

But that’s okay, the two of them just move, they just sway from side to side, drifting across a ball-room floor of some grand palace. But it’s entirely empty, save for the darkness of the night and for the two ghosts that they might appear to be for an outsider, waltzing through the shadows cast by the light of the witching hour.

Somewhere, off in the darkness, behind the darkness that his eyes can’t see through, an orchestra is playing a soft, haunting melody. It sounds like it’s coming from another room.

It’s a little embarrassing, dancing. But they’re alone, more or less, so he feels safe. Despite the fact that he’s never been here before, wherever this is.

Hineni lowers his head, pressing his nose down towards her hair to smell it.

 The man stiffens up.

- She smells like frogs.

The person he is dancing with lifts their head, the moonlight shining in to reveal her long, black hair. It glints off of her glossy, emerald green eyes that are as wide as the span of the ballroom that they find themselves inside of. She opens her mouth to speak.

“…Ribbit?”

Hineni wakes up, clutching his heaving chest with one hand as his eyes scan their bedroom. His heart beats frantically inside of himself. Startled by his sudden jumpiness, Obscura lets out a loud hoot, transforming into an owl as she flops off of the bed sideways in surprise.

The man looks around himself.

He’s at home. It was just a bad dream. It was just a terrible dream.

He lets out a sigh of relief, bending down to look at the owl-god who is rising back up, scanning the darkness of their home for a threat.

“Sorry,” apologizes Hineni. “I had a bad dream. Everything’s fine.”

“Who~…” she hoots, turning back into her half-human gestalt as he helps her climb back into the bed. Obscura lays back down and he covers the both of them, sparing one last glance around the dark room as he grabs her and wraps them both tightly back into the blanket.

The man lays there for a moment, pressing his face into the back of her head to smell her hair. It smells the way it should. He lets out a content sigh, planting a kiss there, before  letting his head rest softly once more on his pillow.

“Weird question,” asks Hineni. “But do you want to try dancing together sometime?” he asks.

Obscura, her back leaned against him, rolls her head to the side and looks over her shoulder and then nods, nuzzling herself back into a comfortable position as the two of them return to sleep.

________________________________________________________

The forge is aglow, burning through their wood with incredible speed. Even on a ‘low’ heat, the amount it burns through is simply out of control. Especially since he’s trying to heat the house with it and not just lighting the forge for some work.

“We really need this charcoal operation up and running, Rhine,” says Hineni.

“Not a problem!” states Rhine, proudly. Hineni looks down, the boy has a box ready and everything. He plants his boot onto it, gesturing with his arms towards the side, towards the plan that is nailed up onto the wall. “Rhine! The magnificent river-wizard has come to the rescue!”

“…Magnificent?” asks Hineni, raising an eyebrow.

Rhine plants his hands on his hips. “I’ll also accept ‘great’, ‘honorable’ and ‘amazing’.”

“Boy.”

“- Boy, what a fantastic helper that Rhine is, huh?” asks the blue-haired kid coyly, clearly in high spirits today. Hineni turns his head, looking at the plan. Perhaps he is right to be. It’s an excellent schematic. He isn’t sure if it’ll work, but at first glance, he honestly doesn’t see why it wouldn’t. Rhine has once again worked hard. Perhaps it’s best to let him have this moment of pride.

Hineni finds himself laughing while lost in this train of thought. “Sure. Let’s agree on that,” says the man. “What do we need?”

“Ta-da!” says Rhine, pulling out a list that was tucked into his belt. It’s covered in some gunk and bits of dried clay. “I wrote down everything we need and the measurements for it too.”

Hineni lets out an impressed whistle. Okay, maybe the boy really does deserve his arrogance. He looks the list over that Rhine is holding open to him, a bright, white smile painted on his face. Perhaps it’s alight because he’s taking joy in Hineni’s bewildered face.

“Rhine,” says the man, planting a hand on his shoulder. “This is great work, thank you,” he says, nodding to him. “Let’s get started with this right now. We need it.”

“Actually,” says Rhine, lifting a finger, his smile growing even more prideful. He steps down from the box, running over to the back corner of the room where the clay barrels are. He lifts a tarp off of them.

“Ta-daaaa~!” beams the boy, revealing a stack of ready-made clay bricks and some other assorted materials.

Hineni stands there, lost for words. A project of this size and the boy had managed to get it ready all by himself. He was expecting a rough schematic at most, but here Rhine is, having not only made an excellent schematic, but also a list of materials and then he went even further and got those materials ready too.

Hineni lavishes him with praise, as is befitting, promising to get him a reward for his hard work. Though Rhine already seems content with the man’s approval and his hand on his shoulder.

The two of them set to the task of putting the charcoal kiln together, as per Rhine’s schematic.

________________________________________________________

“It’s almost counter-productive, isn’t it?” asks Sockel. She leans back on the legs of her chair, her legs kicked up over the counter as she stares at him curiously. In her hands is the curved knife he had given her. She seems to be cleaning out her fingernails with it. “You burn wood to burn the wood that becomes the charcoal and then you burn that to run the forge.”

“The numbers are your part. You tell me,” says Hineni. “But charcoal burns longer and at a more constant temperature than just wood, especially damp wood.”

She laughs, waving him off with her hand with the knife in it. “It’s all good. We should hire some woodsmen to deliver wood,” says Sockel. “A month's worth for a building this size is nine-hundred Obols. For a low-heating budget.”

Hineni sighs. “I’ll let you know when I have them. Until then, you’re going to have to help us get wood too,” he says. “We need all hands right now.”

Sockel reaches down and pulls out a small envelope from below the counter. With a flick of her wrist, she throws it to him, the letter spinning with surprisingly pinpoint accuracy right into his awkwardly reaching hand, trying to catch it. “And waste my talents out in some stupid forest?” she asks, returning her gaze to her hands and to the dagger. “Why do you think I moved to the city to begin with?” Hineni looks at her for a moment, before turning back to the envelope in his hands. “It arrived today.”

The man looks at the envelope. It’s a poorly made envelope, even by the standards of this neighborhood. The glue is thick and pasty and stained through the exterior, leaving bubbles. The paper is rough and looks to actually be a page out of some old, faded book. Hineni narrows his eyes, trying to decipher it. It doesn’t even look like it was an interesting book.

“Avarice…” he says, quickly turning the envelope around and tearing it open, reading through the simple bank-statement.

Dear account holder,

As requested, we have summarized your total existing balance at: 13,236 Obols.

Thank you.

Avarice.

Hineni looks at the piece of paper, reading it a few more times, before his eyes wander back up to Sockel who is smiling, having taken her legs off of the counter. “It arrived an hour ago,” she explains. “There’s a whole stack of other stuff I still need to dig through. The account movements.” She bends down. “We also got a heap of Avarice marketing material with a request to pass it out to any adventurers,” says the elf, kicking a box at her feet.

“They want us to do it for free?” asks Hineni.

“Yup,” says the elf. “That’s what the ask was.”

Hineni rolls his eyes. Avarice is such a miser, he wouldn’t be surprised if the marketing materials aren’t all hand-drawn pamphlets.

He looks back down at the paper in his hands. Thirteen-thousand Obols.

Hineni wants to lavish the same praise upon Sockel that he did upon Rhine, but she doesn’t seem like the type who wants or needs it. He looks back towards her. “Thank you, Sockel,” says Hineni, keeping it simple and plain. But he means it.

It’s not a fortune. He had actually assumed that his parents would perhaps have more money, given the size of the operation. But then again, maybe he has just been viewing the structure and its grandeur through his childhood nostalgia. The world was so much bigger, back then.

Still. This will buy them a month’s worth of wood. It’ll buy them food, water. It’ll pay for the repairs that they need to get finished and it will allow them to start the new adventurer’s guild. Plus they need forging materials and Rhine and Sockel both need to be paid, they deserve as much. This will cover all of that and then some.

They’re all such a big help. Without Rhine, their work would never have made such progress. Without Sockel, the house would have never been able to make the progress that it will now be able to make. Without Obscura, he wouldn’t be here in this position to begin with.

“Thank you,” he says again.

Sockel waves him off, having kicked her feet up again as she plays with the dagger, picking at the spaces beneath her fingernails. “No problem. I already set up for the wood to be delivered and that carpenter is coming back tomorrow to check out the support-beams I told you about.”

He nods. Of course she’s ahead of it all already. “Do me one more favor, Sockel,” requests Hineni. “Pay yourself and Rhine your wages, then go to town and get yourselves something nice for your rooms,” he says. She looks his way for a moment, tilting her head and then nods back.

“Sure thing, boss-man,” says the elf, returning to her busy-work, smiling for whatever reason she might have.

________________________________________________________

What a life.

Hineni slides down the bath, soaking himself in the hot water. The man lets out a content sigh, feeling the bubbling water surround his body and bring an ease to his cold, sore muscles.

It’s been a full day.

The kiln is finished. Tomorrow, they’ll make the first charcoal. His bank-account is in use and relatively full, though it is going to drain quickly if he doesn’t get on top of his forging work. Large repairs will start on the building tomorrow too as they get ready to establish themselves as the new-old adventurer’s guild in town. Tonight, before bed, he wants to try the dancing thing with Obscura. Alone of course, in their room or maybe up in the attic. Somewhere where Rhine and Sockel won’t see it.

It’s been good.

Today, despite the oddness of the dream that began it, has been good. Tomorrow, Hineni is sure will also be good. The future looks very promising, in part, because he is lucky. Lucky enough to have these people in his life who bless him with their presence and their talents. But it’s not just luck. They are here because of his efforts as well. It hasn’t been easy, living his ‘three-life’, but it’s off to a good start.

The man lets out another satisfied, warm sigh as he closes his eyes and leans his head back against the stones of the bath, listening to the gentle flowing of the water.

It’s hard to explain, but the soft dripping, the few splashes, the croaks and groans of the building surrounding the bath, it all comes together and it almost…

…It almost sounds like music, playing softly in the distance.

Hineni yawns, falling asleep.