The Forged Wanderer

Surrounded by mysterious, cloaked travellers, wandering merchants in a harbour town—or maybe a glorious city in the forest—was where she was meant to be. Exploring a new town every couple of days, travelling along trodden paths, landscapes like she’d never seen before. This was all but a dream for Uri. As she hunched over an anvil, not much more than four feet tall, she swung a hammer down onto a glowing red broadsword. Sparks flew as iron clanged against steel. The air was thick and lingered with the stench of coal dust and molten iron, although this smell was one Uri’s nose was familiar with. The heat in the shop swelled, and beads of sweat rolled down her furrowed brow, curving around the freckles and small scars adorning her face. Sweat ran down her beard, lining each side of her jaw. Each side was pulled into a small braid, secured with an obsidian bead. As she swiftly picked up the broadsword, she walked over to the window and tossed open the wooden shutters, turning the blade in the sunlight, giving it a grunt and nod. As she went back to her workstation, her bushy locks appeared a honey ale colour, even under a layer of dirt. After placing the sword on a table next to the forge, Uri tossed her leather gloves and apron aside, wiping her glistening hands on her blouse.

            “Oi, you done yet?” said a bellowing voice from outside.

            “Mhm, ‘suppose I am.” she responded as she headed out.

            Uri pushed the wooden door open, revealing the bustling mountain village of Valeton, and an older, unimpressed male version of herself. He held a wide stance, broad shoulders tensed well up into his messy blonde dreads.

            “So, what do ya want father?”

            “I want ta know how the broadsword is comin’ along?”

            “Fine, should have it finished tomorrow.”

            Uri’s father, Ganli, huffed at her response and dropped his arms.

            “Y’know, it really shoulda been done by now. You haven’t been daydreaming or sumthin’ while yer supposed to be working right?”

            “Nope, just taking my time.”

            Ganli paused and ran a hand along his braided beard, giving her an unimpressed look.

            “What? Not worth making something quick if it comes out shoddy. Isn’t that what you always said?”

            “Never mind that, you should be quicker by now. You’ve been training yer whole bloody life.”

            Uri pursed her lips and looked towards the peak of Valor Mountain. A flock of birds circled overhead before heading in the direction of the wooded area at the foot of the mountain. She wondered how many paths trailed through the forest. How many towns were connected to her village by mere dirt road? She hadn’t travelled anywhere outside of Valeton since her late mother took her, and that was almost too far back to recall. All she had ever known was this village, the mountain, and the woods at the bottom of the mountain. Her father kept her too busy to go anywhere, leaving plaguing thoughts of a whole world unexplored by her eyes to wander through her mind. A loud snap drew her attention back to her father.

            “Can’t ye pay attention for a blasted second? I told you, quit leaving yer head in the clouds, it’s only a hassle for the both of us.”

            “Y’know I can’t do that. It makes me feel close to her.”

            Ganli’s face dropped. Uri knew it wasn’t fair of her to bring her up, but it’s how she felt. Her father didn’t raise her to not speak her mind, however, that didn’t mean she didn’t feel a little guilty each time she was brought up in conversation with him. Ganli began to walk past Uri and into the workshop. He placed a hand on her shoulder as he walked by and gave it a firm squeeze.

            “Fine. I’ll finish it off, you go do yer thing.”

            “Really?”

            “As long as you make sure to capture her, alright?”

            Uri nodded and dashed inside to grab her pack and cloak. She nudged her father with her shoulder and gave him a small smile before running out the door and up the path behind the building.

            As Uri headed along the worn path, she gazed out at the forest, unable to imagine what hid beneath the treetops. She reached her spot, a ledge with a single short cypress, perfect for admiring the landscape and getting lost in thought. She removed her cloak and spread it on the ground. She eagerly retrieved a pencil, sheets of parchment, and a lightly charred piece of flatbread from her bag. Crossing her legs, she dropped to the ground and began to sketch vigorously at the parchment, only occasionally looking up to scan the forest below her. As the branches of the tree swayed, her mess of hair brushed around her face. She took a deep inhale as the spicy aroma of the cypress blew past her. Her eyes scanned the familiar forest, hoping to see something new, but it was the same trees that seemingly stretched beyond her vision. As much as Uri loved coming to this special place, it was beginning to lose appeal, the novelty was transforming into the same familiarity the town brought to her. Her love of Valeton had dwindled over time; the same handful of shops, people, trees, and buildings seemed to never change. Merchants hardly ever showed up, and most of the clients of her father’s blacksmith shop weren’t usually the talking type, no good for getting an inside scoop of places to travel.

Tucking the parchment to the side, Uri leaned back and took a bite from her bread. The crunch of the crispy exterior summoned a few birds to flock around her feet. She wasn’t the best with nature, so she hadn’t the slightest idea what they were, but the indigo and grey of their feathers always reminded Uri of the colours the mountain turned on an early summer dawn. Ripping a chunk of bread for each one, she tossed them the pieces, watching them peck at each other. The largest one even attempted to steal a second piece, but Uri shook her boot at him, encouraging him to fly away. The bird looped around and chirped a few times before taking off out of sight, the others following shortly behind.

            “Lucky you are. It’d be nice to take off where you want, see things with your own eyes, huh?”

            Uri sighed and stared off into the distance for a few moments before grabbing a new sheet of parchment. Her movements were more fluid this time, creating soft circular and waved lines. Never once did she stop to think about what she was creating with her pencil; she hardly looked at the page, as if she had the image memorized. Her focus shifted as a single bird returned to the ledge. She moved the pencil more rapidly as the sky darkened, attempting to finish before the sun set. The bird chirped a four-note melody before taking off for good, leaving Uri alone with her sketch. With the last moments of light, she admired her drawing, it was one familiarity she would never tire of. As she packed up her stuff, she tucked her final piece of parchment under her arm.

            “Let’s head home, Mom.”