A Day To Live

Aden

It's only about the middle of the afternoon and I'm already tired. The sun in its peak, no winds to cool my flesh, and my towel already soak from sweat. I've been working non-stop this whole week. The project of making 20 short swords isn't an easy job, you know. You have to heat it, cool it, strengthen it, sheath it, measure it, and test it to perfection. And all of that under a week is just mind blowing for me. But all of it is worth it. The wage I'll get here is  enough for me, dad, and mum for a month and that'd be splendid no? I'm quite excited, for some reason, going back home. How I wish the time would fasten and I'd be on my way home. Still have to finish one short sword though.

Short swords are really popular these days, especially on the tournament grounds. They pave their way by clanking steel on steel and on flesh and blood. I don't understand the way of life in that sort of thing; the "entertainment", even. This is the only job that I--

"Aden, stop daydreaming at the middle of work. Your messing up the shape of the sword. Look, it's already deformed. They pay us with solid gold and we must give them what they deserve, okay Aden?"

"Yes sir. Will do. My apologies. I was just thinking of my family and all. Gonna' meet them back in home by six and I'm just excited, sir."

I then proceeded dumping the half molten scrap on the pile of junk metal by the end of the shop. It wasn't the cleanest and prettiest of all shops, but t was a working one. I then started on another short sword, how I wish everything would hasten a bit. Took some virgin steel from the back alley and went back. Still thinking of home and what dad had catch this morning.

"I know they'd be proud and all, but be on the task at hand now, that'd be better on our situation considering the fact that you want to finish early."

Grun, my boss, was, and is, very authoritarian over everything ranging from blacksmithing a cheese knife to molding a flail. He always reminds me of his infamous words, "You put yourself at work. Make it dull to say you're imprudent and make it sharp to say you're wise. You are what you make." With that said, I must be more wise and intelligent than philosophers and academics. He gives me fair share on my pay, treats me good on the job, free food, even, what more could I ask, no? He's not much of a talker so I don't know much of him even after these eight years. The only thing that I know is he prefers the pirate's drink more that summerwine and beer; rum. He always flails a bottle or two after work, being drunk and all.

"Son, if you don't stop daydreaming I'd kick you out right now. Start that steel already! You've been staring at oblivion for five minutes already." Grun said, startling me.

"Sorry again, sir." I replied at him, worriedly.

I then started molding the needle. Few hours. Few hours left and I'd be finished. I want to go home badly today and I don't know why.