The forge’s orange glow made Kai squint, even with thick gray clouds pressing low above the wooden planks overhead. Each hammer strike sent waves of heat shimmering across the floor, where dust drifted like embers caught in slow motion. Zlodey’s leather apron was streaked with soot over a rolled-sleeve work shirt, exposing arms marked by old burn scars and puckered flesh. He lifted the breastplate from the rough plank workbench and looked at his son. “Chin up,” he barked, and Kai obeyed.

The boy lifted his chin until his spine felt like bent rubber.  He’d learned that posture the hard way, standing still through hours of trial fittings as his father for every new design he came up with. Zlodey clamped the curved steel to Kai’s chest, his thumb pressing into the metal’s cold center with a force that made ribs ache. The plate bit into his sternum, causing a sharp pain.

“Too tight?” Zlodey asked, his voice pitched above the clang of a hammer on an anvil from the other blacksmiths.

“I’ll get used to it. Good for posture, right?” Kai shrugged, forcing a grin.

His father let out a dry snort, almost amused. He ran his gloved hand down the side straps and snapped them into place, then secured the shoulder guards with quick, precise motions. He backed away one or two steps, and surveyed Kai as if admiring the statue of the Goddess. 

“Stay straight, stop fidgeting. Otherwise, it will likely bruise your collarbone.”

“I don’t know how you expect me to stand still with such heat next to my face.” Kai muttered. Drops of sweat gathered at his hairline and trickled down his back. Every breath was filled with the sharp taste of iron and the sting of burnt coal.

Zlodey ignored his son 's complaint. He traced the seam of the armor with his thick thumb, checking each rivet. Then, he grabbed the bracelets and slid them along Kai’s forearms, watching the way the metal settled over the boy as Kai flexed his wrist.

Kai let his hands hang loose. He knew his father despised any trace of nerves, as if a knight’s apprentice should be all unbending steel. He caught himself resisting the urge to leave that place as soon as possible.

“You made a new helm?” Kai asked, gesturing toward a silver helmet on the bench. “Looks fit for the king’s guard. You showing off to the whole village? That’s not how you get a new wife.”

Zlodey grunted, adjusting a strap at the elbow with surgical precision. “Stop talking while you pose, it dulls reflexes.”

His wife had been murdered during the last war with Argo Kingdom, the same event that caused all the children at the church to lose their parents. Recently, Kai joked every so often about his father needing a new wife, since he couldn’t marry the forge itself…

The boy barked a laugh, but his father’s features didn’t shift. Zlodey picked up the helmet and held it out without any ceremony, giving it to the boy. Kai lifted it, turning it so the haloed bird sigil from their kingdom caught the flickering light of the forge. He slid it on, feeling its weight pressing on his temples, followed by a low creak of leather and steel filled his ears.

“Can you see?” Zlodey’s knuckles tapped the helmet’s rim, sending a dull ring through Kai’s skull.

Kai nodded, hoping to hurry along, then his father tapped again. 

“Good. Now take it off before you sweat your brain out.”

Kai shook his head free and set the helmet beside an unfinished blade. The sword’s metal had cooled from its reddened color to a deep violet. It rested on a bed of wood shavings, with lots of steam swirling off the edge. His fingers itched to lift it, to test the balance, but Zlodey’s rule was clear, never touch something still cooling, so the boy forced himself to look away.

His father wiped his hands on an old rag and turned, satisfied with the final result. After a moment, he fixed Kai with a serious stare.

“Since it seems you need armor nowadays, you can keep it. Clean every joint, don’t forget to oil it, remove all the rust, it isn’t just for show. You got lucky in the ruins. Next time you’ll be properly equipped.”

Kai smirked. “I know you don’t fully believe me and Xyron… But you’ll see for yourself. You’ll see what kind of horror is in there.”

Zlodey said nothing, but the look he gave could have even dented steel. He nodded toward an empty bucket by the entrance. 

“Go get some water. Cool off before you ruin the fit.”

Outside, the cold air felt like a slap on the boy’s face. Mud clung to Kai’s boots as he made for the hand pump that has been collecting rainwater for days. He pumped until the bucket was heavy enough, then knelt to peer at his reflection in the rippling surface. A smooth young face, framed by dark hair, still too young for all this metal covering him. He wondered if the other lads would recognize him once the armor was shining.

Xyron wanted to join the Knights sooner than later, and Kai would never allow himself to be left behind. They were only fifteen years old, but next year they would be eligible for official training.

TING TING TING TING

After he returned inside, the clang of a warning bell cut through the smithy, or rather, through the whole village. It was a low and urgent toll, nothing like the church’s usual daily gentle call. Kai saw his father freeze, his shoulders locking and eyes narrowing like never before. Zlodey’s empty hands curled up as if craving a hammer or sword.

The bell’s sound kept resonating through the air, Kai’s ribs vibrating with the sound. He met his father’s gaze, waiting for some sort of order. Zlodey glanced at the open door, then at Kai, and let out a simple command.

“Let’s check it out.”

Kai didn’t wait to hear it twice. He let go of the bucket and both sprinted outside.