"Hey! Newbies!"
"Coming!"
I shouted at an elder Nenner as I grabbed Lise along with me to our shared anvil. My shoulder-length hair matted against my bare neck as we walked for a mere few seconds in the constant blistering heat. It was the constant when living in these insane conditions, and thinking about it now, I should probably cut my hair short one of these days.
"You have another job for the both of you," the older man barked out as we arrived, half-panting at the constant heat from the numerous furnaces. "Some big-shot Zahler requested you specifically, so you better make it count, Rouge."
I nodded in affirmation as the built elder left us to our own devices. With a sigh, I pulled out one of the numerous molten pieces of metal from the nearby furnace. I turned towards Lise, the kid visibly huffing with her large hammer already raised high in preparation.
"Just like I taught you, okay?"
"O.. kay..."
With a flourish, I laid the glowing piece of metal on the anvil. My left hand burned as it held the metal in place, my right arm raised in order to strike at my signal.
"On me."
*CLANG!*
Sparks flew as my initial strike chipped away a good portion of the metal.
*CLANG!*
A subsequent strike followed, made to flatten the would-be blade. Courtesy of my unofficial apprentice.
*CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!*
Lise and I fell into a steady rhythm, a feat only possible after spending a week drilling Lise on smithing-101 once we got settled in. I took it upon myself to teach the girl the fundamentals, seeing as she was barely thirteen before she got picked up from the orphanage and thus lacked vital information as to even the basics of smithing, let alone Seigelcraft. Now that I thought about it, I really have to start showing her how to channel Seigel Wesen soon.
Maybe later.
*CLANG!*
With practiced efficiency, I went through the motions of it all; the tempering, the oxidizing, the folding of metal. Meanwhile, my mind wandered towards what few details I had organized in my headspace.
*CLANG!*
It's been a month after I first found myself walking into this massive furnace. What constituted as the clothes on my back were all I had left of my parents; once a modest dark blue shirt and brown shorts were now torn at the hems and stained with splotches of black and brown courtesy of my own blood. In front of me, Lise still sported the same ragged dress that she came in with. She was still a joy to be with, at least; like a little sister that I never had.
She helped me with the nightmares, even if she didn't really know about it. I'd probably already be a husk of my former self if I didn't have someone like her to take care of.
*CLANG!*
We've also been immediately conscripted by what amounted to be the 'Elders' of this place; the oldest and most experienced Nenners working in what they called a 'Nenner Furnace.' They were a helpful lot, at least, helping us find our place in this communal hell we now all lived in. There were the women too that almost cried at the thought of Lise being picked up at such a young age. Apparently, the Empire never recruited young before; with the vast majority of my colleagues here being drafted during their late teens...
That was a thought and a half.
*CLANG!*
They also gave us the rundown on how things worked in the Empire. Apparently, only unpartnered Nenners got to work in the Furnaces. Zahlers supposedly knew which Nenner made each weapon, and thus if the work was consistently to their liking, they could opt to partner up with their chosen Nenner; essentially becoming a personal smith at their beck and call. It was a way to get away from the furnaces if one was good enough to be chosen. Also, everyone I that I've briefly talked to all stated their desire to get chosen by at least someone just to get out of the heat.
*CLANG!*
Still, I knew from keeping an ear out that there were also some that were more than happy to spend the rest of their lives in the furnace; their experience with their once-partners being too harrowing for them to even consider going out of the safety of being a mere factory worker.
*CLANG!*
I wiped the flurry of sweat wetting my brow as my thoughts returned to present day. I nodded absently as I surveyed our work; what was once a solid rectangular block of iron now being in the shape of an Imperial-standard shortsword. With the shaping done, I slid it back into the furnace for one last round of tempering, casually leaning on my hammer while we waited for it to finish. The fires crackled around the blade, embers that never seemed to end heating up what I considered to be a subpar product all around.
Frankly, I didn't get why they wanted their swords' guards to be few centimeters longer than the usual fare that I was used to, but I didn't get to complain now, didn't I?
"Keeping up?" I asked my apprentice as we stared at the glowing fires. "You can take a break if you want, Lise."
"It's.. fine.." she panted, her short hair also sticking to her face as she sweated up a storm. "I can.. keep going..."
I clicked my tongue at my adopted little sister's state. She was clearly dehydrated, as was I. But unfortunately, the rations worked at a commission system; you get a request, you make the thing, you hand it over, and only then do you get your paltry portion of bread and water for the day.
It was draconian, to say the least.
"Rouge... I think the... sword's ready..."
I pulled the glowing sword out with my tongs before immediately submerging it on the Imperial-standard dirty water designated as the quenching fluid. Steam erupted from the trough as the sword rapidly cooled, raising the temperature billowing on my face up a few notches before I took it out and placed the blade back on the anvil.
"Well spotted," I praised.
Lise preened at that immediately. Really, it was still heartwarming to see even after a month of witnessing it firsthand.
"So," I brandished my hammer once more before turning back to my apprentice. "What comes next?"
"Applying the... Seigels, right?"
I nodded as I beckoned her closer towards the anvil. There was no time better to show her how to do it than now. I've been teaching her all the theory, but I've been too caught up in my own work to even consider actually telling her the actual process.
That was, until now.
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Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
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