Chapter 6. To the Town

Mark awoke from his sleep, well rested, as the sun hit his face through his window. His room was designed for those who wanted to wake up to the early morning sun and Mark liked to get to work early. His sleep filled him with energy but he only viewed it as a tool to keep him fresh at the forge. He had no dreams that tried to keep him in bed which was normal since his only dream was the forge.

He didn't spend too much time relaxing as he got ready since he found the forge to be a great place to relax in the morning. He simply washed his face and mouth out and got dressed before he started to walk to the forge. The orders for the next day were usually collected and placed next to the front door by someone from the village. On his way out, Mark grabbed the orders and started looking through them.

The sun was still just over the top of the mountain range that it rises above in the morning during his morning walk. The dew was still on the grass blades that were sporadically scattered across the bedrock that the village was built on. He heard some birds in the elder tree that overlooked the village from near his home and they were not too annoying for Mark. 

'If dad is not at the forge already then he will be arriving soon, it's probably good that the birds are singing so enthusiastically this morning.'

Mark didn't care if his dad worked or not but he was always wanting to learn the last part of their family secrets in blacksmithing. It would be best if his father passed down everything he knew before he drank himself to death.

He arrived at the forge and started working on the orders he had picked up on his way, noticing immediately that his father was not there yet. It mattered not to Mark, since his only concern was doing the best he could do to make the best products and best repairs for his orders that the material would allow.

While the main material he used was iron, he still found himself slipping into a trance as he poured his heart into each strike of the hammer. As he observed his metals heating in the forge, he could feel himself becoming one with the red-hot energies given off by the raw products that were being refined at his direction. It was easy for Mark to get lost in his work, and he had been doing so at an increasing frequency lately. He had not noticed, as his only desire was to devote all of his attention and energy to his craft.

"Hey! When you're done staring at that damaged pitchfork come over here so I can teach you a couple of things while I am still sober."

Mark was suddenly broken out of his trance as his father finally said the words he had been waiting on for the past few months. Since Mark had mastered the previous level of information handed down by his family, he had been telling his father every time he caught him sober that he was ready.

While Mark was getting the pitchfork set aside for later his father was getting his own forge ready.

'That boy has always been wholly devoted to the forge when he is working, but I have noticed lately that it's more than just focus. Perhaps he really has the talent of his ancestor and I can die knowing our legacy is in good hands.'

There was not much for him to set up and by the time he was done, Mark was at a good observation spot. Without looking back, James started by putting some iron and aluminum in their respective crucibles to prepare for the first step of his instruction.

Mark looked out over the part of the mountain that he could see from the forge area. His father had an open area behind him so he could look out at it while he took breaks which Mark had opted not to have so he had more storage room on his side. He didn't want to waste his time during the day taking breaks. 

'I can finally learn the extent of our family inheritance and be considered a master blacksmith. After today, I will not need my father for anything and he can drink himself to death like he always wished.'

As Mark looked back at the forge, he noticed his father turn to the side to grab something off his workbench. Mark followed him with his eyes instead of getting lost in the flames as he had learned in the past that doing so was a good way to get his father to head home and drink for the day.

His father was not a mean man, just a miserable one. Since he lost his true love, he had never recovered and longed only to join her once again in the next realm.

"I am going to draw out a couple of things for you to look at so you can follow along with what I am saying over the next few hours. Just pay attention, if it's you then I know I just have to do this once. Thank the gods your idiot brothers gave this up ages ago."

As Mark began to devote his attention to his father, his oldest brother, Rick, was finishing up his journey to the bottom of the mountain range their village was in so he could visit the nearest town with the traveling merchants.

"We still have the majority of the day ahead of us so when we get to the city we will just go straight to the trading district and set up our caravan. Rick, you should be taking notes as soon as we get to the gates. Some protocols and procedures need to be followed each time we enter a town and it is different for each town. This is important for when you will lead your own caravan."

Rick was looking at an older man talk as he nodded his head every few words.

"Yes sir, I will make sure to remember every detail."

The old man nodded his head in satisfaction as a small smile found its way to his face.

'My own children and grandchildren failed me but this one has promise. I might just have to adopt him.'

The old man continued his elderly musings as the caravan made its way to the city gates that were now in view.