The Narabithian Chronicles: The Prophecy of Three

Chapter 8: The Forges

Chapter 8: The Forges

"Whoa!" Jeff stared at his surroundings in wonder. He was three stories below the earth in a huge cavern. The majority of the cave was lit by magma streams running all around the room. There were hundreds of forges lined up in rows between each flow.

Dwarves, elves, and a few Catlings stood at the forges. They were each forging all sorts of objects, from swords to armor, horseshoes to jewelry, and saddles to shields. "This place is sick!" Jeff exclaimed, as he watched a Dwarf craftily bang on a piece of metal. Within minutes, a breastplate began taking shape.

"I'm guessing that's Earth-speak for 'I like this place, I think it's awesome,'" Gideon said.

"Heck yeah! This place rocks!" Jeff ran over to a forge with a Catling working at it. "Will I be able to do stuff like that?" he asked the Cat.

The Cat replied, "Of course. You are the son of the Dwarf Lord, smithing is in your blood."

"Cool," Jeff said, trying not to drool. He fingered the hilt of his hammer. Can you smith? He asked it.

Well, maybe. I've never tried, the hammer replied. Your father only used me in war-like situations.

"Gideon, can you teach me how to smith?" Jeff asked, before remembering Gideon was a Cat. "Was that a stupid question?" he asked.

Gideon's hearty laugh rang throughout the cavern, causing some to stop and stare. "No, no it's not. But, you may not even need me to teach you," he said. Jeff gave the Cat a bewildered look.

"Your grandfather was the greatest smith that has ever lived. He forged the five Weapons of Legend. He had an amazing gift; all he had to do was sit at a forge, grab a piece of metal, and imagine what he wanted to make. Then, his fingers would do the rest.

"One day he tried training an apprentice, but when he went to explain how he did things, the only words he could say were 'instincts'. Other smiths would ask about different techniques he used to create certain designs, and he wouldn't know what to say. Well, at first anyway; but after a thousand years of forging, he learned the lingo.

"It is very well possible that you have his gift," the Cat concluded. "Of course, the only way we can find out, is if you try."

"So, I just go over to an empty station and pick up a piece of metal?" Jeff asked.

"And imagine something you want to make," Gideon added, nodding his head.

Jeff took his place behind a forging station. He reached for some gold out of a scrap pile. An image of Rosa appeared in his mind; and suddenly, he knew what he wanted to make.

Instinctively, his hands flew around his station, heating metal up, pounding it, and cooling it down. Before he knew it, Jeff had a thin, gold chain. And then, he grabbed a piece of silver from the scrap heap.

He heated the little chunk of silver; and once it was bendable, he began forming something. Petals began to form, beautiful and quaint. He began etching in details to the flower, as if he had been creating things for years.

He let it cool, and then began painting the tips of the petals red. He let the paint dry, and then slipped it onto the chain. Jeff held it up for Gideon to see. The beautiful flower, which was now obviously a rose, glinted in the light of the magma.

"Wow," the Cat said, taking the necklace into one of his paws. "Well, the mystery is solved. You are not only the Heir to your father, but to your grandfather as well." He handed the necklace back. "She'll love it," he added.

"What?" Jeff said in surprised.

"Rosa," Gideon replied. Jeff scoffed.

"Who said I made it for her? I just wanted to start with something simple," Jeff said, trying to hide the truth.