The Cursed Blacksmith

Chapter I

The sound of metal hitting metal echoed throughout the empty, dim room. With walls of sturdy stone bricks and the constant banging being the only sound echoing throughout the otherwise silent room, this wasn't the most heartwarming place to be in. However, where the sound of clanking was, there was a concoction of passion and enjoyment, as well as the faint light that reanimated every few seconds.

There were a pair of turquoise eyes that reflected the reviving sparks that had only awoken a foot or two away. A ginger ponytail swayed back and forth as she continued shaping the glistening metal into a shape she could call desirable. A smile was drawn across the individual's face as she ceased her banging. As she raised her hand up, the pale moonlight that illuminated through a nearby window revealed a blacksmith's hammer, one which looked worn and ragged, but still very effective. She let out a small huff, as she stood up from her short, stone stool and wiped the sweat off of her forehead with her other hand. It was so quiet now, that even the newly fallen sweat droplets could be heard. She closed her eyes momentarily as she looked out of the window. The dusk night sky was mesmerizing, with it being splattered with the eye-catching dots of light.

As she was attached visually to the scene, her bubble of hypnosis was popped by a familiar 'Ding!' Her eyes immediately shifted to the sound as she furrowed her eyebrows in response to someone intruding in her work space.

"Er... The shop is closed, please come back lat-" She was interrupted mid-sentence by an equally familiar voice. The tone of voice screamed of irritation.

"Alma... I waited an hour for you to finish up your little project. Hurry up; Practice won't do itself," a teenage male voice spoke out. The figure was revealed to be a boy in his teen ages. He had lengthy, dirty blonde hair and piercing silver eyes. His most notable feature would have been his physique. He was an impressive 190 centimeters tall and had a fit frame. He wore a basic, blue tunic, and brown pants that complimented his hair quite well.

His leather boots tapped against the cobblestone flooring as he approached her, his facial expression coming into clear view as it crossed paths with the dreary lighting from the window. His dagger-esque eyes were narrowed, and his mouth was crafted into a toothy sneer. Boy, did he look mad, and probably for good reason.

The ginger haired girl, who went by the name of Alma, let out a small, nervous laugh as she walked over to him as well, sharing the moonlight with him. She was definitely much shorter, standing at a rather petite 160 centimeters. She had flavorful, turquoise eyes, along with fiery, ginger hair that was tied into a ponytail that revealed her facial features a lot better. Her skin was pale, and clear of blemishes aside from the washable dirt on her. She kept a rather messy look, but still had her own form of charm nonetheless.

"Luke... I'm really sorry! I uh... I kinda got really, really into this amulet I was making, and..." Alma was once again interrupted as her companion grabbed her by the wrist. Though it may have seemed rather uncomfortable for the girl, she went along with it, almost like she was used to it. Truth was, she was used to it, and she comfortably acted the same way to him.

The two of them went way back, even before their birth. They were destined to meet. Her father had made weapons for his father, who was a well known Commander for the Astriel's army. Commander Gyrus, he was called. He deserved every bit of that rank, as his prowess in combat was unmatched. Meanwhile, her father wasn't very well known throughout the Astriel, but he was heavily respected by the Commander of the Astriel's army. Alma always felt a faint somber feeling whenever she thought of her old man, but she shook the thought out of her head as she had her mind emptied by the voice of the young swordsman.

"Come on, let's go train before the others can find out," Luke called out so plainly as he led her out of the smithing room, and into the streets of the middle-class area. Luke was of a higher class, but he always came down here for Alma. After all, they were friends. Luke led Alma towards the Astriel Gate, and sure enough, the guards lazily just let the two go, a simple wave of the hand as their heads remained tilted downwards. Luke felt a sense of annoyance at the sight of this as he just went on ahead, not wanting to start a scene.