literature

Blue Ambition [1] Blacksmith

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         Oval black eyes stared at the lump of metal in front of her, it was a dull gray color with brighter flecks throughout. In her mind she envisioned it as a piece of armor. Perhaps a helm, within which she would decorate light swirls or ancient texts. She couldn't decide which, and more frustrating—she didn't know how to begin.

         Lifting the lump into a satchel, she slung it over a shoulder and opened her large, blue wings. There was a forge in the town over, and there she would convince the blacksmith to train her. Help her forge the metal lump into a dragon-helm. Surely they would be honored to help a dragon learn to a blacksmith, Bronwyn reasoned.

         On the flight there she passed by another blue arboreal, one of the few around that was near her own age, though still younger. *Greetings, Bronwyn!* the other dragon chimed. *How do you fare on this fine day?*

         *I fare well,* Bronwyn answered, and they hovered face-to-face. After an awkward pause of silence, Bronwyn mentally sighed and asked, *How are you, Devgan?*

         *Good, good!* he chimed happily back, and she nodded. *What are you doing today, if I might ask?*

         *Business,* Bronwyn stated. She really didn't want to share what she was doing. Devgan's face fell and before he could say anything more, Bronwyn was flapping passed him. *I must be going.*

         *Oh, w-wait!* Devgan continued, stopping her. *How is Misu?*

         *Misu is with the girl—Ana,* Bronwyn said—her mind-voice ever so flat, straight-to-the-point. *She has bonded with the girl, I believe. They are very happy.*

         *And you?* Devgan pressed.

         Bronwyn was glaring at this point, but it didn't have any effect on the nosy arboreal opposite her. *I will not bond again,* she answered. *The girl is nice, and I enjoy her company, but most of all I am happy for Misu.*

         *Is the girl, Ana—is she a caretaker at least, for you?*

         Bronwyn thought for a moment and shrugged. *If I ever have need of her to act as such I am sure she will, but I am an older dragon by now, Devgan. I can take care of myself.*

         *I've no doubt of that,* Devgan cracked a nervous smile. *It's just that, Bronwy--*

         *I really must be going,* and with that she turned tail and flapped off, leaving Devgan bewildered in the trail behind her.

         He meant well, really. Bronwyn kept telling herself that as she flew towards the town. Devgan worried for her, though they didn't really know each other very well. She was one of the oldest dragons around nowadays, one of the first to be adopted out of the Bishen Realm, and she didn't really have much to do. After being left by her former bondmate she'd grown so angry, furious—while Misu, left around the same time she was, just cried silently and not-so-silently.

         Then Ana had come along, lost from her own world, and Misu had fallen in love all over again. Bronwyn had tried. She'd really, really tried, but… even though she liked the girl, it wasn't in her stars—she couldn't let herself form that kind of connection—not again. Ana welcomed her into her own, hugged her and praised her, and loved her just as much as Misu, but she couldn't bond with her—she just couldn't. Misu spent all day, every day, with Ana. Bronwyn had traveled back to the Bishen Realm, and found herself here—now—staring at lumps of metal and envisioning armor and weapons out of them.

         If only there was a dragon blacksmith close by for her to learn from, but if there were any they didn't exist nearby.

         Frustrating! And Bronwyn huffed—a blast of hot air before her. It rattled the leaves of nearby trees and she could feel that glowering at her with displeasure.

         Heat.

         Despite her blue color, Bronwyn felt she'd always had a connection to heat—fire—and perhaps, as was evidenced by her desire to learn to be a blacksmith, metal.

         She entered the town undisturbed. Dragons were rather common place in an area so close to the Bishen Realm. Most of the humans here barely bat an eyelash at a passing Bishel dragon. She flew quickly to the forge, and landed just inside the open area.

         A man was hammering at an anvil.

         Clang. Clang. Clang.

         The ringing of hammer to anvil—metal on metal—was music to Bronwyn, and her eyes shut and she listened. When it stopped she didn't open her eyes, not until the man, a heavily muscled and tall man with messy dark brown hair and soot all over his face, turned to face her. "Can I help you?" he asked, voice gruff and deep, yet kind.

         Bronwyn opened her eyes, shook off the smile that had edged its way onto her face, and faced the blacksmith with square shoulders. She lifted her head proudly and let her voice flow into his mind. *I come to be a blacksmith,* she let her words sink in. *Train me in the ways.*

         He didn't move. He didn't even blink. He just stared at her. Then, without saying a single word, he turned and lifted is hammer and started his work again.

         Bronwyn stared at his back, muscles flexing and relaxing as his arm swung the hammer and it clanged down onto the metal beneath it. She narrowed her eyes, watching that back, watching that man… and she said again, *I come to be--*

         "I heard you, dragon-lady," the man said between hammers. "What makes you think I want to teach a dragon how to be a blacksmith?"

         *Why would you not?* Bronwyn asked, fluffing her wings in annoyance, setting her pack down before her. *I would be capable. I would be good at it.*

         "And because of that you think you should be a blacksmith?" He turned, setting his hammer down and crossing his arms before Bronwyn. "Why do you want to be a blacksmith? A dragon like you, I'm sure you've better things to do."

         *No, actually,* Bronwyn held his gaze, unblinking. *What is a dragon like me supposed to do with herself?* She asked. *I have no bondmate, I have no job, I wake up—I explore the same surroundings I've known for so, so long—I eat, I sleep. I stare at these metals surrounding me. I hunt and I barter for them and I see them as armor. I see them as weapons. I only want to turn these metals into that which I envision them as. I want to create. To use my abilities with heat to serve a purpose.* Quieter she found herself continuing with, *I want to be of use… to find my own purpose.*

         The blacksmith unfolded his arms and took a long, deep breath of the smoky air surrounding them before slowly exhaling. "My name is Gauff," he said after several moments, looking around his workshop and then back down at Bronwyn. "If I train you, and I mean if, know that I expect excellence. Devotion. You must want this, dragon, I will not accept a quitter."

         *I do want this,* Bronwyn said, sliding forward on her belly and gazing up at the man. *I will not quit. I will see this task to the end, and all after it. I am Bronwyn, and I will become a blacksmith.*

         Gauff smiled, wrinkles etching the outskirts of his cheeks and eyes as he did so. "How are you going to lift a hammer?"

         *Magic,* answered Bronwyn. *I might not even need a hammer.*

         "Magic," laughed Gauff, shaking his head and lifting a hand to rub his forehead and smooth back his hair. "Of course it'd be bloody magic with a dragon, wouldn't it?"

         *I do not plan to work the metal right away,* Bronwyn explained. *I wish to watch you, study you first and see how you do things—at the same time I am going to … find a way to work the metal myself. I might have an affinity for it, but … I might also need a magical object.*

         Gauff pursed his lips together and nodded down at Bronwyn. "Pardon me, pretty lady, but I don't know a damn thing about your lot. And frankly, I hate magic."

         Bronwyn shifted and took a deep breath. *Magic is what I must use, one way or the other.*

         "Fine, but don't use it too close to me. Last time I saw magic in a workplace somebody nearly lost half of their body," Gauff shook his head. "I'm not about to see that happen to me. So you find your object, or whatever, and keep it far away from me."

         The Heat Globe was in her pack on the floor… Bronwyn was not about to let Gauff know that now. *I understand, sir.*

         "You call me sir one more time and you're definitely out of here."

         *In that case, don't call me lady,* Bronwyn huffed.

         Gauff laughed and shook the ground with it. "You can watch me, then. Study me, or whatever you said. Find your ways to work the metal, keep the forge going, and then we'll see what we can do to make a blacksmith out of you." He made as if to stick his hand out, to perhaps shake hands, but then realized that wouldn't… quite work. "Deal?" he ended up asking, crossing his arms again.

         *Deal,* Bronwyn answered.

         She spent hours studying Gauff as he worked, just as she said she would, watching him take metal from forge to anvil to water, repeatedly. Watching as he made ingots, etched designs, made nails—buckles—just about anything a blacksmith could make, he knew how to make, and with the onslaught of customers throughout the day he was clearly good at his work.

         When she wasn't watching the man, she was watching the metal—reaching out her innate senses to mentally study them. Feel them. How am I going to do this? she thought, worrying etching into her brow. An object? Is there one—could I control it? Or is there a way I can learn this without one? To mentally morph the metals.

         She asked Gauff to lay out a small heated chunk before her, and to keep it pliable she blasted it with as hot of air as she could manage.  He crossed his arms, a habit of his, and watched as she faced off against the mental.

         Ten minutes had passed and not a thing happened. Gauff took a drawl from a mug and said, "Better stop there, Bronwyn, you're likely to give yourself a headache."

         *A little too late for that,* Bronwyn admitted, but tore her gaze from the metal nonetheless. *Perhaps I am fool for this, after all.*

         "It's day one, little miss—" she glared at him. "Well, I didn't say lady, did I?" She kept glaring regardless, but he didn't care. "Don't expect to master anything in a day. Don't even expect to be able to do it. This is going to take time. If you really think you can bend and work metals without a hammer or… object, as you called it, then it'll probably take you a long time."

         *I would search for an object,* Bronwyn said. *But I know not where to begin.*

         Gauff's eyes had grown thoughtful for several minutes after she'd said that, and he turned to reach for a leather-bound book on a higher shelf behind him. "I heard a story once, when I was boy," he began, thumbing through the old pages. "About a hammer owned by an old blacksmith. He'd crafted it himself, as most do, but if anything's magical this thing is. He imbued it with a crystal," finding what he searched for in the book he cleared a space at a work bench and plopped the thick book down. "They say the crystal was formed at the heart a volcano, Mount Terbetus," he pointed at the picture in the book and Bronwyn flapped over to peer at it. "I don't know what it might do for you, but if it's a blacksmith's hammer, I bet it can help you work metals."

         Bronwyn eyed the picture suspiciously. *It might also not do a damn thing,* she grumbled. *Where does you book claim this thing is?*

         "Well," Gauff continued, flipping a page. "It's said that this blacksmith, Cronhaurer was his name, buried the hammer back where he'd found the crystal—somewhere around Mount Terbetus. In fact, it says he built an entire forge there in one of the caves in the mountain, and he used the lava flow from the volcano itself to craft his works. In his dying days, fearful that the unworthy would come to use his forge, he caused the entire cave to crash in on itself and nobody has been able to find it since. Most think that if it does even exist anymore it's been flooded with lava and nobody could get in."

         Bronwyn's headache was getting worse and she rubbed her head with a wingtip after landing on the floor. *Mount Terbetus?* she asked. *And where is that?*

         "Four or five days on foot. Half that for you, maybe, since you have wings."

         *And how do I know this isn't all just a tale?* Bronwyn sighed, shrugging her shoulders a couple of times to release tension. She leveled her dark gaze on Gauff suspiciously. *Seems a little convenient, this tale. What's more, even if it all exists, the hammer might not be magical at all.*

         "Listen, dragon-lady," Gauff leaned back against his workspace and crossed his arms. "You came in here, you want to be a blacksmith, that's all well and good—but if you don't have the necessary tools, you can't get the job done. Fact's fact. You're asking me about magic, and possibilities, and if the story is tripe or not? Barking up the wrong damn tree, hon. You're a dragon, you're the last thing I expect to hear doubting stories and their merit, or if an object is magical or not. Go find out, isn't that what you dragons do?"

         Bronwyn blinked slowly, taking in Gauff's words and thinking about them. Isn't that what you dragons do? she repeated inwardly. Well, some, maybe…

         She fluttered her wings in pure annoyance and glared over at Gauff. *Fine,* she snapped. *But you are coming with me.*

         "I'm not closing up shop, pretty lady—"

         *I will pay you.*

         Gauff quirked a brow, arms still crossed. "I didn't think dragons believed in money. Which does make me wonder what you're doing trying to become a blacksmith."

         *Fool,* Bronwyn spat. *I wish to be a blacksmith to create things, same as any. Not for profit. I do, however, have treasures that you might find valuable. I have also spent a long time acquiring various ores for my future work… that I will share if you aid me in this journey.*

         "I'd have to see them first," Gauff answered.

         *There's one other I want to take with me for this journey,* Bronwyn said, musing to herself for a few moments. *On my way back from fetching him I will bring the ore I speak of.*

         "All right, then after I see it, I'll determine if it's worth my time to go with you."

         Bronwyn eyed him, but relented and nodded. *I will return before dark, then. I wish to leave immediately afterwards, so be ready.*

         Gauff shook his head. "I'm working until I decide if I go with you. Then, I'll prepare."

         *Prepare ahead of time,* Bronwyn stated, flapping to get in the air. *You will be going with me. Of that, I am sure, so be ready.*

         Before Gauff could snap something back at her, Bronwyn darted out of the smithy and into the air, hauling her pack with her Heat Globe in it with her and leaving the rest. She flew quickly, determinedly, through the trees and following the road.

         Excitement drove her. She would find that ancient smithy, and that hammer, and become a blacksmith.

         She would craft fine armors, weapons, and maybe even holdings for magical objects. To her, the options were endless, she just had to get started.
Featuring
Bronwyn and Devgan

Bronwyn and Devgan were adopted from the Bishen Realm.
To adopt your own Bishel dragon, please visit the link above.

Next: Blue Ambition [2] And They're Off
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