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Chapter 6 – Night of Reckoning

Shawn’s excitement over the meteorite was palpable, stirring a fervent desire to fashion it into a sword without delay. As they packed their belongings and embarked on the journey back to the village, his grandfather lingered behind, his mind abuzz with thoughts about the meteor and the mysterious prowler. Deep in contemplation, he mused silently, ‘This isn’t just any meteor; it’s the legendary stone of Aureolis, it can be found only in… and the mysterious person I sensed…No, it can’t be.‘ He was only disturbed by Shawn and Ruth’s conversation.

Meanwhile, Ruth and Shawn engaged in a lively discussion about the sword Shawn planned to craft. “I’m thinking of a blade that combines strength and agility,” Shawn remarked thoughtfully, adjusting the meteorite in his pack.

Ruth nodded eagerly. “Yeah, like a thin double-edged longsword! Something versatile enough for different combat styles.”

Shawn grinned, energised by Ruth’s enthusiasm. “Exactly! And with this meteorite, it’ll have an edge like no other.” Their chatter carried them through the remainder of the journey, the village coming into view as they rounded the final bend.

It was evening, and the sun was about to set by the time they reached the village. Upon arriving, Shawn, his grandfather, and Ruth made their way to Shawn’s home. His grandfather took a deep breath, steeling himself against the mysterious events and ready for the inevitable challenges that lay ahead. He decided to assist Shawn in forging the sword, despite the weight of what he knew. Meanwhile, Shawn and Ruth buzzed with excitement about the impending creation.

Shawn’s grandfather called Ruth over and removed his own sword from his back. Handing it to Ruth, he said, “Give this to your grandfather and tell him it’s from me, and thank him for having us.” Ruth, puzzled by the request but trusting Shawn’s grandfather, accepted the sword. “I will give it to my grandfather,” he replied.

Turning to Shawn, Ruth added, “I’ll give this sword to my grandfather and come back quickly to help with the forging. I can’t wait to see how your sword turns out!”

Shawn, struck dumb by his grandfather’s unusual action, simply nodded. But before Ruth could leave, Shawn’s grandfather, with a kindly smile, intervened. “Sorry, Ruth, but I’ll be helping my grandson forge his sword. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see the finished product.”

Though disappointed, Ruth understood. She sighed but managed a smile and left the house with a cheerful, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

Once Ruth left the house, Shawn turned to his grandfather, confusion etched across his face. “Grandpa, why did you give your sword away? I don’t understand.”

His grandfather sighed, placing a reassuring hand on Shawn’s shoulder. “Look, Shawn, there’s going to be a war in ten days, and I need to prepare you for what’s to come.”

Shawn’s eyes widened with concern. “Did you say war? Grandpa, are we going to participate in the war?”

His grandfather’s expression turned serious. “There are more important things to do first, then we can decide about the war. But for now, let’s focus on forging your sword.”

Shawn had more questions swirling in his mind, but before he could voice them, his grandfather placed his hand over his head. “Trust your grandpa. No more questions until we forge your sword, got it?”

Shawn nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation but still eager to get answers. His grandfather’s calm yet firm demeanour gave him a sense of reassurance, even as uncertainty loomed. They moved towards the forge, ready to begin the work.

Meanwhile, the village head spotted Ruth coming down the slope from Shawn’s house, struggling with a large sword. “My dear Ruth, where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you,” he called out.

Ruth, grunting and wobbling under the weight of the sword, replied, “I was with Shawn and his grandfather. We went to the market and had lunch.”

“Oh, I see. Hope you didn’t cause any trouble for them,” the village head said with a laugh, watching Ruth’s clumsy progress.

Just as Ruth approached, he stumbled, nearly falling, but Ruth’s father swiftly caught him around his stomach and the sword in his other hand. “You’re too young to be handling a sword this big,” Ruth’s father remarked, steadying him.

Ruth looked up, relieved, and explained to his father. “Father! It’s the sword from Shawn’s grandfather. I was supposed to bring it to Grandpa.”

Ruth’s father smiled warmly and lifted Ruth onto his shoulder while holding the sword in his other hand. Glancing over at the village head, he said, “Come on, Ruth. Let’s go and see Grandpa.” As they approached the village head, Ruth’s father set him down gently near Ruth’s grandfather, who chuckled warmly, ruffling Ruth’s hair. “You’re growing up to be a fine lad.”

Ruth hesitated for a moment before speaking up. “Grandpa, Shawn’s grandfather wanted me to give you this sword,” he said, pointing to the sword his father held, “and told me to let you know that Shawn’s grandfather thanked you for having them.”

Ruth’s grandfather smiled, amused by his grandson’s earnestness. His father nodded with a grin and added, “Now, go see your mother. She’s been worried about you, and you know how she gets when she’s angry.”

Ruth, wide-eyed at the thought of his mother’s temper, quickly replied, “Yes, Father,” and darted off towards their house.

As Ruth disappeared around the corner, his grandfather turned to his son with a solemn expression. “He’s growing up so fast.”

Ruth’s father nodded, gazing after Ruth with a mix of pride and concern. “Indeed, yes, Father.” He then handed the sword to the village head, remarking, “That’s a fine sword. By the way, what did Ruth mean about Shawn’s grandfather thanking you?”

The village head chuckled as he examined the sword. “Yes, it’s a fine sword indeed,” he remarked. “It is an old promise to me that Shawn’s grandfather kept all these years. Shawn’s grandfather promised to give me a sword he forged.” He paused briefly, then continued solemnly, “So, you have decided to answer the Tri-Kings’ call and are leaving tomorrow, right?”

Ruth’s father was not surprised by the village head’s understanding smile. The village head continued, “Go be with your family. We don’t know what the future holds, so it is best you spend some quality time with them.”

Ruth’s father nodded. “Indeed, it’s good to spend some time with family. And you are also my family, Father. I’m going to check on Ruth, and you should join us for dinner.”

The village head smiled warmly. “I will be there shortly.” As the son left and the sun set, fire lamp posts were lit across the village.

The village became partially visible under the warm glow of the lamps, with most residents retired to their houses. Back at Shawn’s house, his grandfather placed a reassuring hand on Shawn’s shoulder. “Let’s get started,” he said, his voice steady but filled with an undercurrent of concern. They entered the workshop, a cosy space filled with various tools and equipment. The forge was at the centre, its glowing embers casting a warm light across the room. Shawn’s excitement was palpable as he looked around, eager to begin.

“First things first,” his grandfather said, placing the meteorite on the anvil. “We need to prepare the metal. This isn’t just any ordinary ore, Shawn. It fell from the sky. Working with it requires precision and care.”

Shawn nodded eagerly. “I understand, Grandpa. I’ve been watching you for years. I know this is going to be tough, but I’m ready.”

His grandfather smiled faintly, his mind still occupied with thoughts of the meteor’s origin. He took a deep breath, pushing those thoughts aside to focus on the task at hand. “Alright then, let’s get to work.”

They spent the next few hours meticulously preparing the meteorite. Shawn watched intently as his grandfather carefully placed the celestial rock into the forge. The intense heat caused the metal to glow brilliantly, radiating waves of energy that made the air shimmer. Sparks flew with each strike of the hammer, scattering like tiny stars, and the metallic tang of molten ore filled the workshop.

With slow, deliberate movements, his grandfather hammered and folded the molten metal, removing impurities and ensuring it reached a uniform consistency. Every strike and rotation of the tongs was precise, aimed at strengthening the metal and preparing it for the delicate work to follow. Shawn observed the shifting patterns within the glowing metal, the way the molten ore flexed and shimmered, absorbing every detail of his grandfather’s movements.

After a careful process of heating, hammering, and purifying, his grandfather lifted the now-prepared molten metal with the tongs. “It’s ready,” he said, eyes gleaming with pride. “This metal is now ready for shaping. Shawn, this metal is unlike any other. Its origin gives it unique properties, and you must handle it with care.”

Shawn took the molten metal with determination, his hands steady despite the heat and weight. “I’ve got this, Grandpa,” he said confidently, his eyes fixed on the glowing meteorite.

As Shawn worked, his excitement bubbled over. His grandfather noticed and chuckled softly. “Shawn, a sword’s essence comes from the blacksmith’s thoughts and skill in bringing it to life. Let’s see what you can do.”

Shawn continued his work, the rhythmic clang of hammer on metal filling the workshop with a steady cadence. Though not as thunderous as his grandfather’s strikes, Shawn’s hammering was deliberate and precise. His grandfather nodded sagely. “Remember, Shawn, forging a sword isn’t just about shaping metal. It’s about imbuing it with your spirit and intent. Focus on what you want this sword to embody.”

The meteorite gradually took shape, transforming into the sword Shawn had envisioned. As the sword neared its final form, time seemed to slip away as they worked through the night, and the workshop was bathed in the soft hues of early twilight of the next day.