Chasing Shadows - Tales of Artera

Chapter 1

The clang of hammer on metal rang through the forge. Tools hung from the walls, tongs, pliers, hammers of various sizes. Wiping the sweat from her brow, Evangeline dropped that hammer she'd been using on a heavy wooden table that lay near her anvil. Approaching the furnace, she placed the pickaxe head she was working on into the hot coals, watching the metal grow hot before quenching it in water. Satisfied with the shape, she tossed the pickaxe head onto the table—it would need grinding tomorrow—and began shutting down her forge. Taking a coal shovel, she separated the burning coals from the fresh coal, then spread out the burning coal so it could cool.

With a sigh, she removed and gloves and stretched her aching arms, which were littered with old burn scars. Gathering up her long brown hair which had fallen from the messy bun she'd put it in that morning, she quickly redid it while mentally counting how much work she had left to do.

Being the only blacksmith of her village, Far Horn, she was constantly busy with work orders. Tomorrow was no different, horseshoes for a farmer's plough horse, an axe head for a lumberjack and arrowheads for a hunter. And more jobs the next day.

Eyeing the mid-afternoon sun through her forge window, she grabbed a bag, stuffing in a shovel head and a dozen horseshoes she'd finished earlier that day, before finally pulling out a knife from a set of drawers. It was beautifully ornate, with leaves carved into the hilt, and the name 'Emin' written in delicate cursive.

The client, Byron Hamadi, had it commissioned as a gift for his oldest son. It would need a sheath, but leatherwork wasn't her skillset. Byron would have to have one commissioned from someone else.

Wrapping the knife in a clean cloth, she lay it gently on top of everything else. Closing the shutters and locking the door, she walked by her parents' cottage, passed down to her along with her father's forge when they died. It was showing signs of age but didn't look dilapidated or overgrown as it had been two years prior. Though it did have a few bits of ivy and moss dotted around, Lona thought it gave the place character.

The cottage was a little outside the village. Coming down a winding road, she eventually reached the village centre. Cottages were sandwiched together, and the people walking the streets equally so, a few of them heading towards the schoolhouse. Evangeline figured she had some time to deliver her first two orders before she'd have to follow.

The last few parents were meandering towards the schoolhouse when she was done. New coin clinked in her bag next to the knife. She'd decided to deliver after she picked up Lona from school, as both the school and Byron were on the far side of the village.

Evangeline approached the school, avoiding the crowd of parents at the door when she saw the children have yet to be dismissed. Going around the side she glanced through the window of a familiar classroom. It had been hers when she'd been at school, and now it was Lona's. Sure enough, near the front of the class, sat Lona at her desk, her mouse brown hair tied loosely in two braids which she tugged at as she took notes.

Ms. Carlyle, a stout radiant woman, stood in front of the chalkboard. She'd been Evangeline's teacher when she was at school. Orphaned at thirteen with a two-year-old sister, she'd left Far Horn to pursue an apprenticeship with a blacksmith in one of the coastal cities. Though it did sadden Evangeline that she was unable to complete her final learning year.

Ms. Carlyle's booming voice shook Evangeline from her reverie, as she swooped her arms dramatically. Snorting, Evangeline began listening to her gripping lesson.

"Long before the first humans ever set foot on Artera, there lived three races of people. The coed, a people with skin like bark and the power to control nature. The gaoithe, humans from the waist up, and horses from the waist down, able to command the wind and sky. And, the éan, bird people, who's ancient magic made them as smart as humans..."