Chapter One

"You need to stoke the fire right, boy." Tymore said impatiently as he grimaced at the boy's performance. "If this flame is not the right temperature, the iron won't melt. If it doesn't melt, we cannot make the mold. If we can't make the mold-"

"Then we will not eat tonight, I know father." Tengeshi cut his father off. It was the same speech he had heard since he could stoke the fire two years ago. It wasn't as if he didn't know what he was doing. His father only reminded him in order to keep his wits sharp. He knew that he had the right temperature by the way the iron ingots turned red upon the furnace, as well as how small clusters at a time began to melt and fall down the limestone slope, and into a dip, waiting for Tymore to collect it.

The process was tedious for an eight year old child. Even more so when he was six. His father had introduced him to the path of the blacksmith in order to teach him patience. At the age of six, such lessons were both welcomed for the father, and unfortunate for the son. By the time Tengeshi was seven, he had already learned how to make a crude dagger within his father's furnace.

Tymore had painstakingly drilled the lessons of where to look for iron deposits, the amount of ore one would have to mine, and the method to smelting, and making the mold in order to shape the weapon as well as the difference in hide quality for the hilt of the blade.

The day of his eighth year, Tengeshi had presented his father with his finest dagger. It was his rite of passage as a blacksmith's apprentice to present a work of his own creation upon the second year of learning, in order to graduate to the next tool of war or convenience. This dagger was made of the finest copper he could smelt on his own. His father had only allowed him to mine and smelt copper for his own projects, due to him only being a novice in the craft.

Tymore had told Tengeshi that he was only allowed to use the scraps of already used hide in order to wrap the hilt, but this suited him just fine. He was only eight years old, so his hands were not all that big in the first place, meaning that even the edge of an already used up hide would be enough to wrap a weapon's hilt that would be big enough for him to use.

He could still remember his father's look of approval as he tested the sharpness and durability of the blade. "This goes far beyond what a copper blade should be capable of." Tengeshi heard his father say under his breath. It was obvious that the comment was not one meant for the child's ears, yet in a cottage in the middle of the woods, miles away from town, he would have to be deaf not to hear. "This will pass." Tymore had said in a gruff voice as he placed the dagger on his workbench.

What Tymore had not known was under the hide wrapping were two markings upon the hilt. Markings that Tengeshi knew quite well. They were markings he had been having dreams about since before he could speak. Yet he kept such knowledge to himself, since having such dreams could only be the fantastical imagination of a child. He knew that eventually he would grow out of such dreams, but he felt that such markings were his good luck charm. Within his dreams, such markings were known as 'durability' and 'sharpness'.

Though he knew that such markings could not make the metal more durable or sharp, it was as if he were placing a wish upon the dagger to always remain sharp and durable. A wish could not make something happen, but it could instill the hope that it would. He supposed in a way, the wish had come true when he saw his father's eyes.

From that day forward, Tengeshi would sneak his carving pin into the smithy and carve symbols for durability and lightness onto a breastplate before his father coated the inside with leather, or sharpness and durability onto a blade's hilt before he wrapped leather around it.

After Tengeshi's eighth birthday, most of the weapons and armor that Tymore sold in town became widespread. Even he was surprised by the quality that he provided. Most men made the twenty mile trip from town to the smithy to praise him for making weapons that no matter how used they were, somehow they retained their sharpness.

One man swore that he faced the head of a gargoyle's war hammer with his sword, yet the blade remained strong for many blows, allowing his friend to come to his aid before he fainted from the exertion. When he came to though, the blade had been broken regretfully. Tymore had been shocked to hear that such a thing was possible, and when Tengeshi heard from his own room, he had given a wry smile at the passing of one of his experiments. "So a blade with such markings can break after all." From that day, he took it on faith that such markings could actually work.

"That's enough for today." Tymore said as he ruffled his son's hair. He then wiped the sweat from his brow and took a look at the sword he had just finished casting. "Wrap the hilt and be quick about it." He told his son with a sigh. "The customer for this blade will be here any moment, and he wishes for it to still have some warmth left in the metal.

Tengeshi nodded as he brought the blade to his workbench. He then looked at his father over his shoulder, noticing the man had already left the smithy and went into their home. He thought it slightly odd that someone was making the trip to their home for the blade instead of waiting the extra day for them to take the weapon into town themselves. "I guess some people never needed lessons in patience." He rolled his eyes as he absent mindedly carved the symbols for 'durability' and 'sharpness' into the hilt before wrapping it. He then slid the weapon's blade into the oak sheath his father had carved out that morning and attached the leather baldric to the weapon, finishing the preparation.

Just as he finished with the standard ritual, he heard a knock at the door and knew that if he didn't hurry, he would hear his father's voice only a minute later. Not wanting to get yelled at, he walked hurriedly to the entrance to their home.

As he walked, his eyes came to the man who had knocked on the door. It was to his disbelief it was a Y'rale knight. His jaw dropped as he noticed the familiar tabard of a lion biting a snake's head off was seen on his breastplate. Yet what happened next would forever stay with him. The man took his helmet and breastplate off, removing the tabard and placed one of his father's armors on instead, fastening the tabard over it. His sandy blonde hair seemed coppery within the light of the torch upon the outer wall of their cottage. The man then took a helmet from his father, one that he had crafted in the likeliness of the knight's own helmet, yet Tengeshi remembered carving a symbol for 'lightness' within the inside rear of the helm.

"Well boy, hurry up." Tymore's impatient voice rang out within the night. "This man has a lot of ground to cover before complete night."

Tengeshi ran the weapon to the knight, who took it into his hands and removed it from the sheath. "Not bad." He whistled. "It is well balanced." He swung it through the air, the metal sung a song of sharpness as it cut through the air. It almost whistled. "This is quite the work of art." He said in admiration as he put it back in its sheath. "Let us hope it cuts as beautifully as it sounds."

"That sword will be one of the best you've ever wielded." Tengeshi beamed with pride as he watched the knight attach the baldric to his armor.

"Is that so?" The knight asked as he looked Tengeshi up and down. "Then let us have a wager." He knelt down to get on the same eye level as the child and smiled, ruffling his hair. "And what is your name, young blacksmith?"

"Tengeshi." He tried to take the man's hand from his head, but was surprised at the strength in the man's grip. With one try, he couldn't lift the hand, so he left it and looked up defiantly.

"Well then, young Tengeshi." He said with a half smile on his face as he looked the boy in the eyes. "In four years, after your apprenticeship with your father is done, come seek me out in Yrale. If I haven't replaced this sword, then I shall sponsor you."

Tengeshi's smile widened more and his heart began to skip. "You would sponsor me to be a blacksmith within Yrale? His eyes widened at the thought. It was known that if one wished to become a blacksmith within a town or village, they would need a writ of passage from their master after their apprenticeship. But in order to become a blacksmith within a city the size of Yrale, one would need the writ, but also a sponsorship from a knight or a noble. Though the work of a town blacksmith would always bring some income, it could not compare to the finances one could receive by being a knight's sponsored blacksmith.

The knight nodded and released his hand from the boy's head. "Just go to the gates of Y'rale and ask the guards to bring you to Sir Sergath. If I am still alive, I will see you." He gave the boy a wink before turning to Tymore. "I thank you for your fine craftsmanship." He took out two gold coins and handed them over to the blacksmith.

"This is not the agreed upon price!" Tymore's tone rose slightly in surprise. Tengeshi couldn't blame him. When he saw the gleam of the gold off the torch light, it was almost enough to make him faint. The agreed upon price was ten silver, which he knew that one hundred copper was equal to one silver which was enough to get them by for at least a week. A gold piece was one hundred silver. He had paid more than a hundred times what the armor was thought to be worth!

Sir Sergath turned back to Tengeshi and winked. "You can call this an investment, I suppose." He sighed as he turned back to Tymore. "The craftsmanship really is quite good. And this is what a blacksmith within Yrale would be paid for such equipment, so this is what you will receive." He looked back at Tengeshi once more before turning on his feet to leave. "Remember Tengeshi, four years I look forward to hearing your name at the gate."

With that final glance, Tengeshi watched the knight walk out into the clearing where he saw the man mount his horse and take off with one beat of his foot upon the beast's side. Tengeshi went to the clearing himself and looked out towards a waxing moon, which hung low in the sky. "It looks like he has at least four hours." He said to no one in particular, but prayed for a safe journey for his benefactor.

"Get back in here, boy!" Tymore called.

Tengeshi sighed as he turned on his heel and went back to the cottage. Though his father was slightly paranoid, he had a right to be. Only a few hours from now, it would mark the time three years ago when his mother had been killed by a group of wandering gargoyles.

Though gargoyles had been known as the guardians of Iryopyn Forest, they had also been given the reputation of human hunters. Their kind were not known to leave Iryopyn Forest, at least not for a far distance. At most, they would travel a ten mile distance from the tree line, just to keep the perimeter. Under their watchful gaze, no one was allowed within that ten mile distance from the forest. If anyone were caught, they would die a horrible death.

One could brave the ten mile stretch, as long as they did so when the sun was risen. The gargoyles would enter their stone sleep at the sight of the first ray of sunlight. But the moment the sun set, if any travelers were within the forest, they would forfeit their lives even though the gargoyles could not leave the forest until the moon was high in the sky. If one were to leave the forest at the last ray of sunlight and the gargoyles saw them, if the person was still within their sight when the moon hit its highest peak, they would go collect their prey.

It was this misfortune that Tengeshi's mother, Erilen had suffered. She had the misfortune of being caught in Iryopyn Forest looking for a rare herb to quell a fever that Tengeshi had. If not for the herb, he would have surely died. Though she spent the full day within the forest, she had only found one herb.

Tengeshi still remembered his mother racing the moonlight home. She had nearly made it back to their cottage before the wing beats of many gargoyles sounded behind her. Tengeshi cried helplessly that night as he saw her lifted into the air by two of the beasts. He still remembered her screams as they flew back to the forest.

The next day, his father went out to where Erilen had been taken and found the herb. Without words, he ground the herb and administered it to Tengeshi in the form of a tea. He then didn't speak to his son for a year. It wasn't until the boy began his apprenticeship that Tymore spoke to him once more.

Now, when he heard his father call to him, Tengeshi knew not to argue. Even if he knew how much time he had before the gargoyles woke, he still listened if not just to appease his father. He walked twenty feet back home where Tymore waited with the door opened. "Since we have gained more than what I suspected we would, I want you to go to town tomorrow and get some more food." Tymore said in a way of dismissal.

Tengeshi nodded his head as he made his way to his room. He shut his door and leaned against it, sighing. Taking a wash basin, he filled it with water and removed his work gloves. Though his hands were protected from the heat while helping his father, they were not protected from the charcoal which caked his hands.

Washing them thoroughly, the blackness fell in clumps, turning the water a grayish black. When all black left his hands aside from a black wing shaped mark, he dumped the water out the window and refilled it, using the water to wash his face. He looked briefly at the mark and smiled slightly. It was always humorous to see that no matter how much he washed, some black would never leave. In this case, it was his birthmark.

When he was finally clean, he changed out of his work clothes and into his sleep gown. With a final stretch, he fell into his bed and closed his eyes. Though his work was always rewarding, it would always come second place to the girl of his dreams. With that thought in mind, his eyes relaxed and breathing steadied. In moments, the blackness of his sight transformed to something that was out of anyone's imagination.