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Now all we need to do is attach and secure the hilts to each sword,I think to myself when I finally allow myself to take a break.
My father stands outside the smithy, selling some of our everyday wares.
The sun hangs lower in the sky now as it is easy to lose time in the forge. The fire swallows everything, including space, time, and common sense. At least, that’s where Father says my sense goes.
I hear him chattering with neighbors before I even step outside to join him. We live in one of many small, human villages in Lodra, and while we do trade in goods and services, the main currency in Lodra is gossip.
“Have you heard?” Sierra is an older woman with several children who stops by the smithy every other day. I joke that she has a crush on my father, but I also don’t think it’s a joke.
“Yes. I think we all have.” My father looks at me wearily, and I stiffen as I realize what today’s gossip is.
Vippera.
The naga who could become the Queen of Lodra very soon.
In fact, there is no ‘could’ about it. She is betrothed to the Prince of Lodra, and there is no turning back from a betrothal for the royals.
Every human in this village has been afraid ever since the news was announced.
Vippera is a particularly cruel naga who hates humans. Especially humans with magic.
My father looks over at me before he finishes helping Sierra with her purchases. Several thoughts run through my head as I watch them.
Why does she need more spoons? She buys spoons every week!
You’ll be hunted for sport,is a rather less cheerful thought that crosses my mind.
Bile rises in my throat, and I feel stickier than usual, so I turn sharply and walk back to the smithy where I know I’ll be safe.
The flames will protect me,I think as I stand and inhale the smell of burnt metal and smoke.
I draw on the energy of the fire. That’s how my magic works, after all. I use energy to manipulate the world around me. Except I can’t use it, because I am not supposed to exist, and if anyone other than my father ever finds out, I’m a dead woman.
The fact that I’ll be hunted for sport is not an exaggeration, it’s the truth. Queen Vippera makes a sport of hunting magical humans.
She has even hosted hunting games in the past.
The fire has soothed some of my nerves, and I decide to clean myself and the inside of the smithy up slightly. I am covered in metal flakes and sweat and drops of blood on my chest and upper arms where my clothing did not protect me.
I go behind the screen which my father placed in the smithy when I started helping him years ago, and I change into a different cotton shirt and trousers behind it. This set of clothing is slightly too small for me as I purchased it from a local cotton weaver about two years ago.
Since then, my hips have widened, and my rounded ass has grown bigger. My breasts have been full from the moment I reached womanhood, and the shirt stretches over the front of my chest.
“Just put on an apron, Rory,” I tell myself. I reach for the leather apron that my father keeps ready for me at all times. “At least this fits,” I grunt.
I’ve just tugged the apron on when I hear the shouts from outside. The commotion sounds as though it is coming from the center of the village.
“It probably isn’t serious,” I tell myself. “Leonard is probably having a jam sale again.”
In our village, things like jams and preserves are hard to make because the ingredients are so expensive and it is very time-consuming. Most everyone grows their own fruits and vegetables, but not everyone has the money or time to make preserves.
Leonard is a villager who has made it his life’s work to make jams and preserves, and we’ve been known to stampede when he has a sale.
Didn’t he just have a sale?I think to myself as I start to pick up the discarded pieces of metal from the floor.
I put on a mask before I start sweeping since it won’t do anyone any good if I inhale ground-up pieces of metal, and then I put my back into it.
I would have expected the commotion over Leonard’s jam sale to have died down after a few minutes when everyone found their place in line, but the noise remains for the entire hour that it takes me to sweep up the smithy and stoke the forge a couple of times.
