Weaponsmith - Chapter 102 (Patreon)

There is a silence in the air.

No fires rage and no voices scream. No boots trod along the sooty streets and roads. No doors creak and windows slam shut.

It is over.

Hineni sits on the leg of an overturned, ripped out booth and looks around the destroyed restaurant. The place is torn apart entirely. The fastened tables are pulled free from the ground. The front-desk is broken apart and stuck halfway into the ceiling. The ledgers and paperwork that Sockel had been keeping there are washed through, if not entirely scorched by the heat of his ash-magic.

That’s ignoring the broken windows, the broken doors, the flooded room that has been soaked with water.

The owl-god hovers behind him in her half-human form and preens his hair with her talons, looking him over despite his insistence that he’s fine.

“Sorry,” says Rhine, who had been sitting next to him.

Hineni shakes his head, putting a hand on Rhine’s shoulder. “You did good, Rhine,” he says. “Thank you for saving me.”

“I didn’t,” says Rhine, shaking his head. “Besides, the house is ruined. I think water got into the kitchen and maybe even the library…”

Hineni waves him off. “Those sound like frog-problems to me.” Obscura hoots. “Sockel. Do we have the money for the repairs?”

“Officially?” asks Sockel. “Yes. Assuming Avarice doesn’t take this as his shot to shaft us.”

“He won’t,” says Hineni. “There’s no reason to give up the game now.”

Sockel shakes her head. “But realistically, the workers are going to be booked for months,” she explains, pointing over her shoulder to the front door. “With the buildings in the tower-district.” She tsks. “If we want priority, we’ll have to pay top-shelf money. We might have to think of something else.”

“Oh, yeah, sure!” says Eilig from the side. “Let’s just let Eilig’s house rot and fall apart because we put a stingy elf in charge of the money!”

“The house is all of ours, Eilig,” says Hineni. “But you’re right. We can’t just wait.” He gets up. “The damage will be worse by then and we need to make money in the meantime.” He looks around. “Plus, without a restaurant, we can’t afford to pay three of our people forever, so we need to fix this soon.” A taloned hand grabs his. He looks back at her. “Besides. I can’t stand having it wet in here,” says Hineni. “It reminds me of frogs.”

“…Frogs…” says Obscura, narrowing her eyes.

“We could ask them for a loan,” says Sockel, shrugging. Obscura hisses. “Rhine’s crazy mom is loaded.”

“Hey…” says Rhine, looking her way.

“No,” says Hineni. “We solve our own problems. Rhine, get the water-absorbing skull from the vault.” He points at Sockel. “Save all the paperwork you can.” His finger wanders towards the fairy. “Eilig, help Seltsam inspect the library. Then I need you to check the walls for any pockets of water.”

“Since when are you in charge?” asks the fairy. “I’m older than you, you runt.”

“Since you got sick. It’s my job to keep you in check” replies Hineni. “Besides, you shouldn’t be out here in the open too much right now because of that.” He looks at Obscura. “Fly around the house, look for any external damage and then help me dry the place out, okay?”

She hoots.

“What exactly are you going to be doing?” snaps Eilig. “Except taking a tone with me?”

Hineni narrows his eyes, but not at her. Rather at the unthinkable thing that he is about to utter, as his gaze wanders to the wooden floors.

“— Carpentry,” says Hineni, feeling a slight pang of disgust as he utters the word.

But he’s doing it for them.

The five of them divide up and get to work.

________________________________________________________

In the days that might come after, the city returns to a state similar to what it was before. But it’s never quite the same.

The birds fly just as they have always done, shooting through the rays of spring sunlight that cascade down over the swept and cleaned streets. Most of the windows are fixed and the rubble moved and picked up. The people smile and go about their days, walking to shops and to guilds and to the dungeon-gate or to wherever else it is that they might be needing to go.

— But those smiles, those expressions are somewhat flatter than they once might have been. Their routes are somewhat shorter. People seem to dally around less in idle, calm dazes and instead keep to themselves or to their own. Small talk amongst strangers seems less than before and there seems to be a general sense of paranoia in the air, not only amongst the people of the city about the war, but about elves, in particular.

The elves of the city here had little to no problems in the time coming up to the attack. But after it, the demeanor of many of those on the fringe of society has changed, deciding that the elves, even those who have been here since their childhood, are a problem and can’t be trusted.

There have been rumors of street violence and targeted attacks against businesses and homes. Some say the guards are slow to react in some of these instances, perhaps out of sympathy with the aggressor’s point of view. Others say that they are simply busy with their work after the assault on the city and that small-crime like this is a low priority right now.

Things have simply changed.

________________________________________________________

Hineni shuts the front door, slamming it shut.

— It slams very nicely.

He stands there for a moment, admiring the loud, strong thud that it makes as it strikes into the frame. He had made this door himself. He’s never made a door before, but he’s going to say that this new door is extremely doory.

He looks over his shoulder towards Sockel who is standing up, hunched over the new front desk that he had crafted. She’s sliding her hands along it, carefully inspecting the work as if she were the one who had paid for it.

“I made some changes to the design,” says Hineni. “I added a little shelf there on the left, so you can stow away your books. If you spin the left one around, there’s a secret compartment.” Sockel looks down below the desk. She knocks on the wood of the body, listening to the heavy thud that comes out back to her. Her head pops up from behind the desk, looking at him in surprise. “Yeah,” says Hineni. “I hid a metal plate inside of the wood,” he explains. “Figured you’d like something that’s crossbow-proof.”

Her ears twitch. “Are you trying to romance me while your wife is in the house?” asks Sockel.

“Please,” says Hineni, waving her off. “You don’t have enough feathers to be my type.” He waves over his shoulder. “The new chair has an actual cushion.”

He wanders over to the restaurant booths. Most of them are still in need of replacement, but the work is coming along well.

His eyes wander down the room, towards the stone corridor to the forge that is aglow. The military, despite the attack on the forge, is not willing to grant lenience for their or anyone else’s deadlines. So Rhine has to work the forge while he takes care of the rest of the house.

Only a little while longer. They need to get the place fixed up.

________________________________________________________

“I’m so sad about it,” says Seltsam. They’re talking about the books that can’t be saved, because of the damage they took from the water that had come through the door.

“It’s okay,” assures Hineni. “We’ll just buy new copies.”

Seltsam sighs and he hears the crinkling of paper coming from behind the shelf. “Sorry I couldn’t help when everything went bad.” 

Hineni shakes his head, leaning back against a shelf. “You got Eilig and Eilig saved my ass,” says Hineni. “So, thank you.”

A pair of angry wings buzz around his head. “You’re damn right I did! Jerk!” snaps Eilig, flying over towards him. “What’s your problem?!” she snaps.

“Well, currently, I’m trying to deal with some wet books,” replies Hineni.

Eilig snaps her fingers in front of his face a few times. “Hello?” she asks. “First you thank that river-brat, then you thank Seltsam, which, fair enough,” says Eilig. “But you seem to have neglected someone here.”

Hineni lifts an eyebrow. “- Is it you?”

“It’s me!” she barks. “See if I ever save you again. Ungrateful jerk.”

He sighs. “Actually, I was hoping to avoid this conversation for another day.”

She gasps. “Wow. You’re such an asshole, I don’t believe it,” says Eilig.

Hineni rolls his eyes. “Come on, Eilig. You know I wouldn’t forget you,” says Hineni. “I wanted to get you something bigger to say thanks.”

“Oh, sure, how convenient.”

“A- actually,” says Seltsam. “It’s true, Eilig. He talked to me about it. I thought it was kind of weird, at first. But the idea really grew on me.”

“What? Idea?” asks Eilig. “What are you talking about?”

Hineni shrugs. “Well, you’re always trapped in the cellar, in your house,” he says. “I thought it’d be nice for you to have a little get-away, or two… or three,” says Hineni. The wood on the other side of the shelf, where Seltsam is, moves. She pushes a small, wooden construction through to their side. It’s a doll-house, or, more of a doll-room, actually. It’s only about the size of a bird-house. “We’ve made a few of these magically-isolated fairy-nests,” he explains. “I want to hang one up in just about every room, so you can fly around and then take a breather when it gets too rough. There’s a bed and some furniture in each one.”

“We can put one in here too,” says Seltsam.

“Thanks,” says Hineni, nodding to Eilig. “You’re a good sister.”

Eilig hovers there with crossed arms, her wings buzzing as she thinks of what to say. “— You’re welcome,” is all that the fairy replies with, before flying down and entering into the little house to look at it.

________________________________________________________

Days more pass still and the work continues, but the house makes progress.

The plants that had been planted everywhere, have now been repotted. The windows are mostly replaced with one still being boarded shut. The floors are dried and repaired. The kitchen and the library are tidied back up. The booths of the restaurant, as well as the front-desk, are all in working order again. In each major room, a fairy-house has been hung up high, near the rafters.

It isn’t exactly weaponsmithing, but homemaking is a fulfilling job in and of itself, thinks Hineni, as he quite literally makes their home.

There’s something exciting to this too, even if it is using wood.

At least with this, he can see the people he cares about getting use from the things he puts his sweat and effort into.

Obscura flies down in the form of an owl, landing on the perch he had made her as an altar of sorts for her to sit on, while she receives tribute. The owl-god hoots, pleased, and picks at the wood with her beak.

He wipes his forehead, looking around the house.

This is good.

Hineni nods to himself. The next few days or weeks or years or whatever other amount of time of his life is going to be left; it’s going to be good.

He can feel it in his bones.