One more day until war. One more day until death. One more day until pain. One more day until... sore feet. At least the horses will be okay. So far, all of the guards are ready, and the villagers that are going are still saying their goodbyes and getting their weapons sharpened. It's not uncommon to see a villager in chain mail and a helmet atop their head, nor is it uncommon to see a sword belted on young boy's hips. It was my turn to help Andrew with everything, so I had to get up pretty early.
I was hidden in the shadows of the blacksmith's smithy--hehe, that's fun to say--, my dark clothing making me almost invisible. There are a lot of places to hide in a smithy, especially if it's dark because there are no candles lit. The only light there was from the forge. Andrew spoke to the blacksmith while the blacksmith's apprentice hit the hammer continuously on a piece of glowing red metal. I don't even think they saw me come in.
The apprentice sent sparks into the air as he stroke the metal. The sparks gave off a soft glow, barely lighting the spot I was in.
"By tomorrow, I believe, we should 'ave erround two hundred arrow heads completed. The other three blacksmiths should 'ave the same." Informed the blacksmith.
Andrew nodded. "That's fantastic! And what of the swords?"
"We 'ave enough iron to forge five today. Remember, swords take awhile longer."
"Ah, yes," he nodded, "I recall being informed of this. How is the hammer situation?"
This kind of went on for a while. I zoned out, as I always do when I'm bored, and eyed everything around me. The apprentice raised the hammer over his head and, I noticed, turned the head in mid-air. The hammer hit the metal at an awkward angle, flinging the burning metal at Andrew.
"Gah!" Andrew hissed as the metal sizzled on his skin.
Quickly, I went thirty seconds into the past and stood up from my crouching position, then walked out of the shadow. The apprentice didn't notice--he was too busy to care. I interrupted Andrew by tapping him on his shoulder.
"What is it?" Andrew questioned.
"Could you stand over here?" I pointed at the spot ten feet away from where he was, moving aside myself.
"Uh, sure?" He stood where I was pointing, giving me a confused look. The hammer slammed against the metal at an odd angle, flinging the burning hunk of iron at Andrew's old spot. The metal bounced off the floor, sending embers across the places it slammed into. Andrew and the smith gaped, while the apprentice flushed.
Andrew patted my head. "Thrända, friend." He murmured.
I nodded, going back to my spot in the shadows.
"I am so sorry!" The apprentice apologized frantically. "I must've misjudged where the hammer would land its blow, and--"
"It's alright," King Andrew smiled, "no harm done."
"Oh, most gracious Highness!" The apprentice sighed and bowed. "Thank you for your humble, merciful understanding!"
I smiled. It was kind of funny to see Andrew trying to take care of this. The blacksmith insisted on giving the apprentice a punishment, but Andrew refused. Especially because the war was so close. When we left, the blacksmith and his apprentice stared in awe, watching me in the shadows, and watching the King stride proudly out of the smithy.
"That must be one of 'is new friends some people are tellin' us about." Whispered the blacksmith to his apprentice.
The reply was a nod.
"You all are always saving my life," said Andrew, "all the time! I don't know how I can repay you, or the sorcerer."
"We're just doing our job," I replied, hiding in a corner.
YOU ARE READING
The Time Watchers (TW#1)
Science Fiction"The watch chose you, Amelia." Amelia is just a high schooler going about her life, until she is told by a professor that she is one of the select few Time Watchers. Their job? Lead famous people to their destiny and make sure they don't stray from...
