[Flashback] Kelwyn Temple (Done)

[Torc Ironwood]

1st Spring, 497 A.V. It was the spring of 497 and Torc had just turned 12 this last long winter. It was a time where Torc had began to learn a trade and fall in love with a young girl named Mola. Torc had always been heavily muscled, but this last winter he had grown and put on more muscle than ever before. Priestess Lara had said that Torc was entering manhood, and that it was time to began to learn a craft. It was saddening in a way, Torc had loved to tag along with Priestess Lara upon her daily chores. She sung songs that felt strong within him, her voice was like waves of birds in the sun. Yet within Torc’s soul the ground gave a deep drum beat to counter it. It was like two worlds melded together and bringing him joy. Torc always smiled as he brought barrels of flour or swept the floor as Priestess Lara did the temple's baking. He was one of the few boys that were allowed to help in the kitchen. Priestess Lara often told him that he was the only boy who wouldn’t steal treats, and then give him one for his trouble. Now instead of going with Priestess Lara, Priest Ano had told him that he was to report to the temple's forge today. Though Priest Ano had always been a good man, he had never felt like a father to Torc, but then again he suppose he never really tried to connect with any of the priests. The Priests of Kelwyn all seemed to be hard workers, and all seemed to find a boy to connect with. Yet Priest Ano always presented an iron front to Torc, since the day he had been brought here Priest Ano, the temple’s skilled smith and carpenter, was suppose to be Torc’s guide into manhood. The priest had brought up four boys in total and all of them went on making tools and building houses for the village. Torc had been given to Ano, because of his Isurian blood. It was logical in everyone’s mind that Torc would be a smith and therefore Ano had to be the one to teach him. Torc had awoke before dawn like normal, Priestess Lara’s chores started early every day and Torc was always an early riser. The predawn sky seemed to have left all the stars die and only the moon was still visible. The sky itself had slowly loosen its darkness to a softer gray, streaks of yellow could be seen at the edge of the horizon, and dew sparkled in the dim light. Torc began making his way to the small forge at the back of the temple. Ano had explained that just like the bakers, smiths rose early to bring up the temperature of the forge. So slowly Torc made his way through the courtyard, feeling the soft dew cling to his work boots, and slowly soaking in. The forge had a small thatched roof leaning to the side of the temple. It wasn’t a proper forge, more like a place to burn enough coal to heat metal. Torc hadn’t really known what to expect from the forge. He had seen the village’s smith, with its large circular stone forge and man size bellows. The smith had thirty to forty tools placed around the forge, as well as, smelting pots. The temples forge came up to his waist. The low stonework had been mortared with a bellows laid in its bottom. A chain had been linked to the top of the bellows so that a smith could operate why turning metal. However, now the chain had been extended to allow the shorter Torc to pull it. The anvil was small compared to the villages and had a bit of rust climbing up the base of it. The hammer and tongs had a thick layer of rust on them, and it was apparent that the tools hadn’t been used since the first snow fall. Priest Ano coughed as he slowly walked up to the forge. The cough wasn’t to let Torc know he was coming, for it was too heavy, like he was clearing his throat from the previous night. Priest Ano was approaching forty and to Torc’s young mind that seemed close to ancient, yet the reality was that Priest Ano had perhaps another ten to fifth teen years at the forge and then he would have to pass it on to someone younger. Priest Ano looked at the young child; over the course of the last twelve years, he had over seen Torc huddle behind Priestess Lara skirts and faintly drew disgusted with the way the boy acted. Granted the child was a half breed, and was often troubled by others in the yard or at chores, but that was needed to make him stronger mentally and physically. Priest Ano believed that a smith needed to be just as unbendable as the pieces they crafted. To be a male follower of Kelwyn meant that when one was working for a lost cause they needed perseverance and an iron will. Putting ones nose to the grind stone wasn’t enough, one had to pound back the world to make way for the cause, and Priestess Lara had done a disservice to this young boy by cuddling him. As Priest Ano arrived, he looked at the forge and began to speak. “During spring we forge fasteners, nails, and whatever else we can for the rest of the year. We do this because coal is still available but at a significantly reduced price since people no longer need it for warmth. I expect you to build up the fire every morning and to work the bellows for most of the day. I want you to watch me work, and at the end of the day you will be given sometime to practice on scrap bits.” Priest Ano waited for the young man to do something. Torc looked at the Priest in a moment of panic and confusion. What did he want him to say? He had asked no question, nor had he given an order. So as the two stood there waiting for the other to do something, Torc finally remembered the first part of Ano’s words. He expected Torc to build up the forge fire. Slowly, Torc looked around the forge and saw that near the buckets of coal there was lumber as well. Torc walked over to the timber and started to look for small pieces of wood and kindling to start the fire. As Priest Ano looked on, he saw that at least Torc had a brain and was doing what he expected. So he went over to the tools that had a layer of rust on them and began to set them out on a table. The first day after winter was always the hardest for the Priest, the tools needed to be polished and the forge fire needed to be started. Torc found the small pieces of wood and began to place them in the forge like he was creating a wall. The small sticks were half as wide as his pinky, yet they were dry. He laid two sticks down from forming two opposite sides of a square. Then he placed two more down on top of the others finally forming the full square. He stacked the sticks to make the square five sticks high, then carefully he placed dry grass and plant chafe into the middle of the square. He wanted to make sure that the grass had some air around it, but it wouldn't blow away when it was burning. Then Torc found some twigs that would help catch fire on the walls of his log cabin, so he set them leaning against the walls. Once Torc was done, he began building up a small grass mound that would catch on fire. He placed the mound on a flat wood plank and began striking his flint and steel. Sparks flew as Torc scraped the two together, like was like small dazzling fireflies buzzing about the grass. He kept at it until he saw a small spark catch and began to burn the grass. Quickly Torc began to take shallow breathes and breath gently onto the coal. It was important to feed oxygen to the spark and hope that the tinder would catch. Torc knew that this was the iffy part of fire making. He needed an nice flame to move the pile of grass and chafe to the log cabin he had build. If it was flaming then it was less like to go out when he moved it, and more likely to catch the other grass on fire. Softly more and more smoke began to raise from the tinder, and finally a small flame rose from the grass. Torc began to feed the little flame more and more grass and chafe. The fire had grow to about the size of his child’s fist and slowly Torc picked up the fire to dump it in the forge. Torc felt the heat from the flame snatch at his fingers, but slowly he moved towards the fire, making sure not to spill flaming grass onto the dirt ground or to rush to quickly and blow out the fire. Finally, he reached his destination and slowly he dumped the fire into the middle of the square. Some of the flames went out as the grass slid from the flank and landed into the log cabin, but Torc saw the that fire had caught. He quickly began to feed more small wood twigs and grass into the fire, for kindling didn’t last long enough to catch any real big logs on fire. For half a bell, Torc labored bring up the fire to a small blaze. It was hard work feed the fire fast enough to make sure that it got hotter and bigger, but quickly Torc saw that his work paid off and a flames two feet high were his reward. Torc then began to add small bits of coal to the fire, slowly at first, allowing the heat of the fire to finally catch on the coal. As he had the coal, he began to pull the bellows. Air began to fill the bellows and as the weights tied to the bellows began to strain Torc’s arm, he slowly allowed the air to flow into the forge. The new air briefly increase the fire sending flames three feet into the air, but the real reason Torc was excited was that the first of the coals had caught. Slowly Torc began to alternate between feeding the fire wood and coal, and using the bellows to increase the heat. It was hard labor and by the breakfast bell Torc saw that the fire could finally be fed solely on coal. Yet Torc stood there in indecision. His stomach was growling and gnarling at his mind to be fed, yet he knew that he would lose bells of work if he didn’t continued. So Torc continued on with his work, waiting for Priest Ano to say something or relieving him to go to breakfast. Torc continued to add coals, shoveling in more and then spreading them out. Slowly, layer upon layer the coals were built and Torc could see the orange almost yellow fire that rested below the bed of coals. His arms were tired from shoveling and pulling the heavy chain attached to the bellows, and yet Torc continued to build up the layers of coal. By midday the forge had coals piles as high as two feet. The area around the forge felt as if it someone had started a fire on the hottest day of the year. Torc was covered in coal dust and ash, and yet Torc knew the fire would last for days now all he had to do was to continue to add fuel and maintain the forge. As he looked over as Priest Ano, he realized the man had been hard at work himself. The layers of rust on the tools had be knocked off and then polished off with a stone. Black iron and dull steel stood upon the tools on the bench and hung throughout the small smithing area. Finally, Priest Ano went over to the forge and put out a hand to gauge the heat. Torc was amazed that the Priest could stand so close to the forge and not flinch in pain. Yet all Priest Ano did was grunt, and began putting iron and brass bars into the forge. “It’s a fair fire for your first try, Torc. As I place more and more metal into it, the coals will collapse and you will have to keep up the bellows to make sure the fire doesn’t collapse out of them. When the coals are below the first layers of brick add more.” Priest Ano had given the boy high praise, by telling him it was a fair fire. He was also impressed that the young boy hadn’t asked about breakfast. In truth, Ano always went without food, except for the evening meal, the first day at the forge. However, two of the boys before Torc had whined about not getting breakfast, and one had left his fire to go eat. Ano had to beat the boy with a switch because of his carelessness, work came before food, and Ano was a firm believer in hard work. Still Torc had impressed him by keeping quiet and on task. He could see hope in the boy’s eyes about maybe a midday meal, but Ano said nothing and continued to place stock into the forge. He mentally reviewed the list of supplies the temple needed and made sure he had enough metal to start on all the supplies. Some were simple knobs and spikes to fix doors or to secure beams. Others were spokes for wheels and shoes for horses. Saw blades, knifes, axe heads and other tools were low on the list since it took so much time to create. The few items that Ano couldn’t create when to the village smith, who had the set up and apprentices to do such work. Torc watched Ano with hope that he would call a break and perhaps allow for the midday meal. Instead he pointed to the bellows chain, and with a feeling of despair that he wouldn’t get lunch either he headed to the chain. Priest Ano signaled Torc to pull the chain by pointing him, then with an open hand he raised it to show Torc how to control the bellows air flow. However, as Priest Ano was point for the fifth time, Torc began to feel and understand the rhythm. The heat felt like it was talking to his flesh, if Torc released the bellows to quickly the fire would pulse angry, then die quickly. If Torc released the bellows to slowly the fire would almost whine at not getting any air. So Torc began to fall into a harmony with the fire, for his movement was synchronized with the fire like they were dance partners. The temperature of the fire stayed even and hot. As the coals burned a dull ache came from the fire and Torc would shovel out the coals where needed. Torc barely paid any attention to Priest Ano as he turned the bar stock making sure the heating was even along the length of the metal. The fire and Torc had struck up a friendship, as the heat soaked up into his muscles and released the knots building within. In return from the temporary release of pain, Torc worked the bellows and shovel to keep the fire constant. Priest Ano stood quietly as Torc tended the fire and he tended the stock. The boy had a knack for the forge, he finally admitted it in thought. Finally, after a bell had passed, Ano used tongs to pick up a bar of metal and hammer to start crafting a replacement hinge. He could see that Torc watched him, while also keeping mindful of the fire. As he struck the bronze, he was impressed with the boy and the focus he kept at his job. In fact, if all went according to plan and he cut a few corners, Torc might be ready to take over some of his duties by next year. Ano allowed a small smile to curl upward on the corner of his mouth that Torc wasn’t facing. He was happy the lad hadn’t been ruined by the Priestess, but he needed to be sure that he wasn’t going to be ruined with large ego as well.

[Torc Ironwood]

Torc had spent most of the afternoon working on the bellows and tending the forge. Slowly the job as the forge had become compact with hot coals, Torc finally understood what Priest Ano had been talking about. The forge was now humming with even heat, and densely packed fuel would keep the forge hot throughout the night. Strangely Torc realized that the small compact nature of the forge that he was working with meant that fire wouldn’t have to be tended to all night like an open fire pit. Surely the coals would burn down to a very low smoldered, but it was the bellows that kept air coming into the forge, and come daylight tomorrow the forge could be brought back to live with the simple movement of working the bellows. So thankfully Torc found that he could spend some time looking at Priest Ano as he worked hot metal into something. Slowly Torc could feel his muscles tighten as he was no longer using them, but he kept stretching and moving enough to keep them loose. Tomorrow Torc knew that he was going to be burning as he moved, but it would all loosen up in an bell or two. Ano could see Torc out of the corner of his eye, as he forged the door hinge. The boy was stretching and moving to keep his muscles loose and Ano was thankful that the Priestess at least drill some sense into him. Ano personally no longer needed to stretch or keep moving, his muscles had turned into hard cords that could keep up work constantly. In truth, the only thing that bothered him after a long days work at the forge was his bones. Sometimes tiredness just sunk down into a deep bone ache that wouldn’t go away, and that’s how he knew that he was getting further away from his prime then previous year. Aches were sinking into his body, he could no longer work all day and dance all night. Even carnal thoughts of the younger priestesses were replaced with annoyance about how green and young they were. Though Kelwyn didn’t require their priests and priestess to give up on having families, Ano thought the world was filled with too many children as it was. Kelwyn took in orphans because without teachers and adults, orphans often became criminals or lost causes, and that’s why Kelwyn’s temples became orphanages. Ano himself had grown up on the streets of Zeltiva, but was rescued by a priest of Kelwyn and shown the way. While growing up and learning a trade, Ano had been young and even sired a few of the orphans in the temple, but wanting to be a good father, he stayed here and took up the calling. As Torc watched the hammer strike the brass hinge plate, he began to realize that the tempo of the hammer strike also called to him. The fire was like a lullaby, soft and warm, the fire keeping a constant light harmony that sank into the metal. Torc could hear as the hammer hit the metal the deep bass of strength and will changing the metal. Boom, the hammer struck flattening the plate of the hinge as the high whine and sparks of the heated metal flew into the air. Almost as if instinct took over, Torc began to feel that as Ano hit the metal again he was having to use more force as the metal cooled. Ano was like a bard that played the lute and sang. Torc had taken over the forge, like an apprentice taking over lute so his master could sing easier. However, just as Torc was beginning to understanding the music that floated about him, Priest Ano struck the metal and a sharp tang came out of it. Torc didn’t understand it, never had he heard such a hard sharp pitch from the metal, and all the other strokes that Priest Ano had done was in perfect harmony. Pang! The metal once again shrieked a high pitch wail, and as Torc looked onto the hinge he thought he saw a crack forming around the heated plate. Why doesn’t Priest Ano stop? thought Torc. Still Priest Ano continued to work, each strike seeming to add a high pitch tang then the last. Finally, the hammer and brass plate met for the last time, and a split occurred halfway down the plate. Priest Ano stopped and simply shook his head as he threw the hinge into scrap metal and began again. “Torc sometimes the metal gets overstressed from working it, I know of no one that can tell when it happens, but a smith simply accepts the failure and moves on.” Priest Ano was upset that the brass and snapped from the working, but then again the hinge wouldn’t be wasted for the scrap metal was there for students to practice on. It was a central belief of Kelwyn that nothing was lost, it was only up to the imagination of their disciples to find its place. Of course, Priestess of the order were to find creative ways to manage all their waste and it was up to the Priest and their hard practically to either care it out or negotiate. How many times had Ano heard young priestesses complain about wasting this or that, almost as if the priests should have been more thoughtful of what they were doing. Granted the head priestess was a good old bird and actually found ways to channel all those creative ideas into making money for the temple. Ano didn’t know how the old bird choose which projects to do or how she kept all the priestess in line, but it still amazed him. Heck the head priest was something else as well, the man was a shrewd negotiator and focused bookkeeper. The gardens about the temple, helped to feed everyone and what they overproduced they sold to local families. Ano had to admit that whoever replaced them when they died would have some big shoes to fill. As Ano picked up another bronze bar from the forge he looked at Torc, perhaps he isn’t a complete waste after all… still going to take a lot of hammer to shape him up though. It was finally time for Torc to take up the hammer. Priest Ano had used most of the day to finish the second hinge, saying that they needed to make up time. Torc simply still hadn’t understood why Priest Ano had broken the hinge, granted Torc didn’t know enough how to save the hinge but surely there must have been a way. Now that it was his turn at the hammer and anvil, Torc picked up old hinge and placed it in the fire. Priest Ano had explained that though he would watch and give advice, he wouldn’t interfere with Torc. To Torc it meant that man could rest while he thought Torc played. In a way it angered Torc that Priest Ano thought he was some child not taking these seriously. Priestess Lara had always taught him chores were to be done with care and ones attention. So Torc began to stroke the fire harder then Priest Ano had asked him as the hinge rested in the coals. Torc instincts told him that he would have to heat away Priest Ano work before he could start again. So as Priest Ano shook his head at the wasted energy the bronze hinge began to glow cherry red. Torc could feel the fire eat away at Ano’s work, and as the hinge became white hot Torc picked up the tongs and hammer. The hinge had been so heated that as Torc picked it up metal began to bend under its own weight. Torc understood that this was hotter than needed to work the bronze, but at least now each stroke of the hammer was his alone. As Torc placed the heated hinge onto the anvil he swung down with the hammer. Torc hadn’t swung with full force, because he had remembered the song. The hammer landed on the hinge, folding the plate back onto itself, and the sound came out of it. The note hadn’t been as pure as Priest Ano’s been, it was in fact less deep meaning that Torc hadn’t put enough force into it. Still sparks flew from the heated metal and light burned the skin on Torc’s arms. Torc pushed away the pain and raised the hammer for the next blow, understanding that this strike would take more than the last and that the last one wasn’t enough, Torc swung hard. The tune of the metal sang that it hit too heavily and that the metal spread to much from the blow. Back and forth between too much strength to not enough, that was the rhythm that Torc played across the forge. It was frustrating not being able to strike the bronze with perfect precision. Torc knew from Priest Ano’s movements that he was no true master of the forge, for the song that he played was simple and even turned sour. However, the song that came from Torc’s blows were like a child picking up a lute and plucking strings. It was awful and only the most careful of musicians might have picked up what tune Torc had been playing. Still the hinge slowly was beaten into a circular rod. The rod was a crude piece to thick in some areas while large flatten hammer marks had ruin any chance that it was circular. It had been a slow process getting to this place, the hinge needed to be heated and reheated a great deal more than it had taken Priest Ano, and because Torc wasn’t as strong as Priest Ano he couldn’t keep hammering the bronze. And so Torc brutal tune of forging continued in short bursts as he began to tap a circular bend into the rod. Torc’s vision of turning the hinge into a door handle had come to him while Priest Ano had started the second hinge. There had been enough material in the hinge to cover roughly the same size as a circular door handle, so Torc had decided to give it a go. Now as he beat the handle into shape, he realized all the hundreds of errors that he had done. Granted the handle would work, but the unevenness of it made it look lopsided. At least the flatten planes on the circular rod would help with grip. Finally, Torc began beating a bend on the end of the circles creating the joining hinge to the door plate. As he hit the metal he closed paid attention to the music. The metal was close to same the high pitch that Torc had heard come from Priest Ano’s strike. Torc dial back his strength and though the process was slow the metal bent instead of cracking. Finally Torc picked up the door knob and went over to the barrel of water to douse the heat out of it. By all the Goddess and Goddesses it was ugly, but it hadn’t broke nor did it have a bad flaw in it. Priest Ano watched the boy, realizing that after his first warning about the forge fire wouldn’t be heard he kept quiet. As the hinge became a rod, Ano realized that the boy had good instincts and skill in the forge. Granted the rod looked horrible, but Torc was correcting his own mistakes, and strangely wasn’t doing a bad job at the end. It would still take years of practice for Torc to understand how much force was needed for different types of metals at different temperatures. Still Torc had a good start and Ano was pleased, then he saw the young boy try to create a bend. Ano shook his head, the bronze had already buckled under his hammer, surely it would do so again. Yet, Torc somehow managed to not create a crack in the rod as he finished one side. Granted Torc had lowered the force he was using to strike the rod, which made sense and Ano would have done the same thing but much faster. Still as Torc placed the door handle into the water barrel Ano had been impressed with Torc’s first piece. Mentally, he realized the standard for Torc in his head, and though Torc had surpassed his previous students technique he wouldn’t mention it to him. “Decent handle Torc, we can use it to replace the root cellar one. It will still be a few more years, before you can replace the ones on the main refectory. Now wash up and go say evening prayers, we will start again tomorrow.”

[Torc Ironwood]

Torc placed the pull ring down on the bench as he went over to the water barrel. It was filled with run off water from the roof, but it was cold and would do for a good first cleaning. Torc went without a shirt had be began scrubbing his arms and face in the cold water. Ash and coal dust began streaming off his body in dirty rivers of water. He was hungry and tired from the work he had done today. His arms burned with pain and ache from it all, and as he looked to his left arm he realized that though he felt the metal sparks touching his skin, he wasn’t burnt like he originally thought. Finally, Torc dunked his head into the barrel and felt the cool water rush about him. For a brief moment, the heat and sounds of the day went away and Torc felt good with the cool water against him. Then slowly he began to pull his head up and as the tug of water began falling off Torc saw dirt ring he had left in the barrel. Torc used the inside of his shirt to dry his upper body and hair. When he was done he looked up to see a group of young girls looking at him. It was the first day that all men of the temple received training, and the group of girls had gone about look at the boys. Their pack leader was nine and in the next year she would be soon joining the priestess in their duties. She wore a simple dress of temple spun cloth, and her hair was done back in a tail like all her friends. Only women were allowed to wear their hair down, and the custom of the village only allowed married women or priestess to keep their hair up. Torc smiled briefly at Mola, feeling his own face flush with blood. Mola quickly turned to her playmates and they began to giggle as she whispered to them. Feeling slightly embarrassed, Torc began the walk to the children’s barracks. Torc moved down the hallways with his dirty shirt swung over his shoulder. As he entered the barracks that had contained his belongings and bed for as long as he could remember, he realized that this was to be his last day here. Somehow as he dropped his dirty shirt into the pile of children’s clothes, he realized that tonight he was expected to move into the priest barracks with the rest of the men. Suddenly, Torc was afraid of the future, here in the children’s barracks he had become the strongest boy and was left alone to his own thoughts. Moving in with the men meant that he would be the youngest and treated like a child. Priestess Lara had explained that it was time for him to move out, as she caught him staring at some of the younger priestesses. Still Torc hadn’t thought about what this day had truly meant, and as he opened up his small possession chest, he looked at his merger possessions. Most of them were supplies for reading and math, his clothes he packed up in a small bundle. As he looked at few toys that he had been given throughout holy days, he realized that it was the duty of all elder children to turn them over to playroom. Sadness spread through him as he picked up blocks and wooden soldiers. They had been played with a thousand times and every year he had been given more blocks or soldiers. There was a two iron ring puzzles, he had spent hours taken off the multiple rings and putting them back on. He realized that perhaps one day, he could add to the temples collection. Finally he pulled out a wood puzzle that was missing three pieces. Now that he finally cleaned up his chest he saw that the puzzle pieces had lodge between a loose chest board and the side. Prying them louse he completed the puzzle making the wooden moose complete. Torc placed a clean shirt on and gathered his things, as he looked around the barracks he felt that he would miss his home. Slowly Torc walked down the barracks stopping at a young boys bunk. His name was Jimmy and Priestess Lara had begun bringing him along when doing chores. Torc knew the five year old to be small and mousy looking, yet when he was with Priestess Lara and him, he smiled and laughed as if the world was filled with sunshine and candies. Torc had started watching out for him in the barracks, letting it be known that if others hurt him, Torc would do the same to them. Most nights Jimmy even played with Torc, building castles like the great Syliras and lining up soldiers. Knowing that Jimmy was with Priestess Lara, he opened the boys chest and placed the wood block, soldiers and puzzle with him. Knowing that Jimmy would probably lose the puzzle and soldiers, but at least be able to fend others off for the blocks, as Torc closed the chest he briefly pressed back tears as he made his way to the communal toy chest and placed the iron puzzle rings in it. It was the last act as a child and the first of a man that Torc took up his clothes and made his way to evening prayers. The main refectory of the temple of Kelwyn was a simple thing. There were wood pews that had been sanded and polished by many hands over many years. Upon the dais sat that alter, two chairs, and a simple gong. The alter had been carved from one piece of wood and images and different facades of Kelwyn had been carved all around it. The altar was perhaps the only decoration within the temple, for the chairs though expertly made were plain and the brass gong had only the symbol of Kelwyn painted on it. Torc laid his small pack of possessions at the entrance of the temple. People and children were still gathering for evening prayers as Torc made his way to the childrens pew. He sat close to the edge, knowing that tonight he was expected to go up to the altar and listen to the head Priestess and Priest give blessing over him and then take his place amongst the men. Priestess Lara picked up Jimmy as they rushed to evening prayers. Though Jimmy was heavy, Lara felt like the boy needed a little reassuring. Jimmy had kept asking her where was Torc, and Lara finally snapped at him, saying Torc had been reassigned. She could have kicked herself seeing Jimmy cry, but the in truth she simply missed Torc. As she began to pick up speed to the refectory the memory of meeting Torc for the first time came to her. It had been 12 years ago, Lara had just become seventeen and had lost her second child not two days before. She had carried the child for close to five months and during the night she had awoke to see her bed sheets covered in blood. The horror and pain she felt was nothing compared to the lost. As she cried out awaking others around her, her pain came from the lost of child. Lara had felt the presence grow inside of her, she had looked down sending it love and joy, rubbing her stomach as her baby had began to grow, and that night she could almost keenly feel the lost of the person inside of her. It was like someone had stolen her heart and soul. For two days she simply stayed in her bed, questioning herself. What had she done? Was she not devote enough? Was she sick in some way? The questions only seemed to reinforce her depression and the lost of love and live. Priestess had come and sat with her, brushing her hair, helping her eat and dress, but it all felt so hollow and empty. It wasn’t till the head Priestess had come with Torc, explaining that Lara was the only one who would have milk to feed the child. In part it felt like a betrayal to the child that she lost, and yet as she looked down into those blue eyes and black hair, she could almost imagine that this was the child she carried. As she brought Torc into her arms and allowed him her milk, she noticed his discolored arm. Worrying that he was deformed, she briefly stopped his feed to examine him. As he began to scream, she realized that his arm was fully functional just dark brown with very pink veins running down it. Softly she began to hush the child, as she slowly pressed him back to her breast, and in that instant it didn’t matter what he was because he was hers. So softly she began to sing. “Little bird, little bird, fly through my window, Little bird, little bird, fly through my window, Little bird, little bird, fly through my window, And find molasses candy. Fly through my window my sugar lump, Fly through my window my sugar lump, And find molasses candy. Who knows a bird? I do, a chickadee, What does a chickadee say? chickadee, chickadee, fly through my window, chickadee, chickadee, fly through my window, chickadee, chickadee, fly through my window, And find molasses candy. Fly through my window my sugar lump, Fly through my window my sugar lump, And find molasses candy.”* She had continued to sing, till little Torc had softy fell to sleep. Lara ran, feeling little Jimmy hold tight to her as she turned the corner to the main refectory hallway. She began to slow down, and told Jimmy to let go. Softly she allowed the boy to slide down her to the floor, for a briefly moment her smock pulled upon her body showing that her form was still desirable to men as Ano looked onto her. Yet she hadn’t allowed a man to touch her since Torc had come into her life, to her Kelwyn had given her a child that she so desperately wanted, and now she had another one. Kelwyn had given her children without the need of men, and every day she had given her thanks to Kelwyn. She straighten her smock and brought the boy to the children’s pew, as she looked at Torc she knew that he was ready for what was about to happen. For Torc the mass had gone quickly, the Head Priestess and Priest spoke about the day, giving thanks for all the opportunities they had been given by Kelwyn. The Priest had read a story from scriptures about how Kelwyn helped someone and the price that it had come with it. Then he told everyone what insight was behind the tale and how they should look to apply it in tomorrow’s work. At that cue, the head Priestess asked for all those that had began their day of training to come forth. Some of the girls and a few boys stood, making their way to the altar. Torc stood behind a girl of thirteen, her hips had just began to swell and the apron about her had pulled the cloth tight about her midsection. Suddenly, Torc felt his hand being tugged on and Jimmy was there holding it with his small hand. Upon Jimmy’s face was a smile and red puffy eyes from crying. He held onto Torc hand, as the girl received her blessing. As Torc walked the three steps forward and knelt before the images of Kelwyn, the head Priest shoot Jimmy a disapproving glance. However, the head Priestess gave him a glance and laid a black cloth about Torc shoulders. The cloth denoted smithing and carpentry as the craft he had started. She raised her hands above Torc’s head and spoke, “Kel hear my voice. A child becoming a man kneels before you, his mind ready and clever. I ask your blessing, may his causes never become lost when he uses your creativity.” The head Priest picked up a bowl and poured a small amount of water upon Torc’s arms and head. “Wyn, hear my voice. A child becoming a man kneels before you, his brow covered in sweat and his arms needing cleaning from his daily toil. I ask your blessing, may his causes never become lost when he uses your strength.” The head Priest wiped Torc brow and arms, as he did so he whispered to the child. “As we continued, we ask all adults to speak from their heart to the faces of Kelwyn before you.” Together, the head priest and priestess moved up to the altar to continue the blessing. Torc knelt in front of the image of Kelwyn. Kel with her long hair partially covering her mischief’s smile. Wyn with a stern gaze, somehow held the hint of tiredness form a struggle worth fighting. Jimmy had simply knelt next to Torc as he also stared into the faces of Kelwyn. As Torc looked into the face of a boy that was the closest thing to his brother, he spoke. “Kel, I promise to be mindful of my actions. You have always been clever, but you have always understood how to bargain. You have always known what to give up, in order to fulfill your task. As I move and act, I will remember your stories and understand a bargain struck means consequences that can reach beyond the immediate.” Torc turned his face to Wyn, “Wyn, I promise always to find gentleness in my strength. A task given to me, is a part of me, and as I seek gentleness to do it I find patience to fulfill the task. I promise the both of you, that should you ever need me to take up a lost cause, I will be there with mind and strength.” As Torc looked at the images of the god and goddess, for a brief moment Kel wink and Wyn looked as if his burden has been lifted ever so slightly. Torc looked down at Jimmy trying to see if he had seen the movement, but Jimmy was looking at different faces and merely looked up to him in return. So Torc looked back up at the head Priestess to let her know that he was done. She nodded and signaled the priest and priestess to strike the gong. Together Priestess Lara and Priest Ano struck the gong signaling to the world that Torc was no longer a boy, but a man trying to find his own cause. (Fin) *Song is Little Bird by Elizabeth Mitchell

[Hatter]

Awards for You! Character: Torc Awarded XP: Black Smithing +4, Wilderness Survival +1, Rhetoric +1, Mathematics +1, Meditation +1 Awarded Lores: Blacksmithing 101 To Build a Proper Fire Religion: Kelwyn Observations of a Mad Man: Hey Torc, good flashback. I know how boring blacksmithing can be to write, so kudos on manging to get out so much detail on the subject. As I always say, if you think I missed something or are unsatisfied with these results let me know in Pm and we can hash it out.