Summer 5, 120
Today Makt would be working in the presence of another during his time spent learning under a smith. The idea of being a smith made sense to him if he could manipulate things with telekinesis. He though that… just maybe, if he was able to run his own shop then he would be able to be very efficient. He had little drive to be a good smith, but he was willing to give it a try.
While they wouldn't be working on the same tasks with the person that was supposed to be his superior, it was comforting to know that help was available if needed. Makt's task was to create the base components of a chain necklace. This wasn't going to be made out of string and beads like his previous tasks. Today's task was going to be making gold wires. The notes told him where to find a proper mold and metals but left little more instruction other than a drawing. Then again, what else was there to tell?
"Why am I making all these wires," Makt would ask his boss. In his mind this was a rather silly task, to create so many of one type of material at one time. In fact, it seemed downright wasteful since what he was being asked to do would use up most of their remaining gold supply. "We should really get onto buying more. Maybe we're short on money this season?"
"Well," the man would explain, "it's more time efficient to do a lot of the same work at once. Think about how much time you will save from having to repeat the smelting process dozens of times over."
Satisfied with the response, Makt thought about what he would do with excess components if he were in charge. It certainly was a long term investment to use up a lot of your gold supply to create only one type of product. On one hand, if making many wire-based products were in demand it would be a huge success. On the other hand, not having enough gold for other products would surely spell doom for the shop. So what would he do if he ended up with a surplus and couldn't use what he had made? "I suppose I would just try to sell the wires to other craftsmen, but I suppose that would mean I would have to get to know them. Perhaps I should go meet a couple once."
After getting smacked out of his daydream, Makt hurriedly carried the supplies over to a furnace and checked the temperature. It was plenty hot enough, surprisingly. He supposed it had been started early in the morning and maintained by Karo to build up temperature. Now he could get right to work. The young man knew that it did not take very much metal to make what he needed. One might think that since it is very long it called for lots of material but that was just not true. Chains were nothing more than a series of very tiny loops of metal, after all.
As Makt took very small copper bars by the hand and placed them onto a balance, Karo paused what he was doing and watched. Makt repeated his weight measuring with bars of brass and pure gold. Karo bustled over and examined the amounts that Makt had set aside and said, "not bad. It looks like you picked out two parts copper, two parts brass, and six part gold. I don't suppose you're well versed in the field of mathematics?" Makt shook his head and replied, "No sir, I only know what has worked for me through trial and error."
Karo smiled softly and said, "very well. For alloys you mustn't think in terms of parts of ten. You must often think in parts of a hundred if not a thousand!" he paused briefly as his employee gasped in surprise, "however 14 carat gold is a little more simple. Pure gold is 24 carats which means that 14 carat gold is 14 parts pure gold and 10 parts other metals. Be sure to measure correctly from now on lad."
Makt certainly wasn't a mathematician but he could at least understand what Karo had said in layman's plain terms. He thanked his boss for the lesson and re-measured the metals. He then placed the metals side by side in a container. He made sure to organize the metals in an alternating pattern in order to make sure the metals would melt into a homogenous mixture.
The young faelnir then placed the container into the furnace and waited. The furnace produced so much heat that the mixture didn't take long to melt completely. Makt knew that this was partly due to the brass; for whatever reason it helped the mixture melt faster than copper or gold could on their own. He watched in real time as the copper melted to give the mixture a reddish hue to make the gold a little saturated.
Makt took a very small metal rod and prodded the molten metal to make sure it was melted all the way through. He had made the mistake of using partially solid mixtures before and he would never forget the scolding he had gotten from his mistake. He then spun the rod in a spiral starting at the center of the container and expanding outwards towards the edges. He repeated this several times before grabbing the container with tongs and carrying it to the casting mechanism. This was essentially a container with a long vertical press which would come in just a few minutes. Makt poured the metal into the casting container and prodded it for several more minutes while it cooled.
When it was clear to Makt that the metal was becoming more solid than liquid, he grouped the metal into a pile and removed the prod. He brought his face close to the metal and inspected it with a trained eye. There was a certain consistency that he was looking for and it was precisely when the metal stopped falling over itself. Essentially, he was looking for the moment that the metal stopped moving on its own. When this moment came, Makt closed the casting container and swiftly started the pressing process. This was little more than compressing the metal into a long bar, but it was essential to doing this when it was clear the metal wouldn't be moving much more on its own.
Makt wiped the sweat from his forehead and took an exasperated sigh. He collapsed onto a chair and tried to slow his breathing. He was absolutely terrified of messing up and had been going off of his instinct for most of the casting process. But the most time intensive part was over and he could breathe easy. Makt took this moment of reprieve to eat lunch and tidying up his work area. Shavings of rare metals and dust from ground jewels always littered the workshop and often times it took longer to clean up than to actually craft a piece of jewelry.
After his break, Makt got back to work. Makt had left off at pressing the gold alloy into a long bar. If the shop made lesser quality jewelry he could have just used the bar as it was. However there were a couple more steps to perform to get a better quality product. He removed the bar from the pressing tool and placed it into an oven. After turning it on Makt increased the temperature ever so slightly until the bar responded to the prodding of a metal rod. Now it was time to stretch the bar over a roller.
The young man quickly pulled over a small wheel and used tongs to place the alloy into it. Using gravity to his advantage he let the gold elongate. He would roll the wheel slowly enough so that the gold wouldn't melt onto itself but quickly enough to stretch out the shiny metal. While he knew the method, it was clear there was room for improvement. His hands weren't quite sure how quickly to pull and the metal broke on several occasions. It was quite fortunate that the gold was so thin that it would take a fellow jewelry crafter in order to notice the minute differences in thickness.
Rolling was something Makt had little to no experience with so it took several tries. He would keep trying again and again until at long last Makt had finished making the golden wires which would probably be used later for anything from wirework to a chain necklace. "Good work lad," Karo would say with a grin, "the shop down the street has been selling out of gold necklaces all season and with a bit of advertisement we should be able to sell out as well. It might be a bit late for us, but we can at least prepare for the rush. The good thing about jewelry is that a lot of the times you can just melt it down and use it for something else!"
Makt hadn't thought about the possibility of just melting down the wires and making something else. It was such a simple concept that he was disappointed that he hadn't thought of that himself. Well, it was time to go home and Makt's brain was already exhausted from trying so hard not to mess up. Makt bid his boss good night and went off on his way.
After a good night's sleep Makt woke the next morning to the sounds of birds chirping in the air. The man slid out of bed, got dressed, and grabbed his dagger. Today he wouldn't be working and he wouldn't be indulging in the allure of his magic. Today he was going to try doing something a little more active. He had thought about getting in shape since the start of summer and decided that if he had come too far in life to be attacked and killed. If anything, he'd go down fighting!
A long, winding walk was all he needed to reach the edge of the market area and escape the hustle and bustle. Makt eventually found himself sitting at the side of one of the several streams that intersected with this part of town. There were many trees around the young man and there weren't any people in sight. This was precisely what he had hoped for - he wanted to be somewhere where nobody could watch the series of failures that was to come. Makt took a deep breath of fresh air as he got to his feet. The dagger was sheathed and tied tightly to the boy's waist. It had to be tight, or else it would cause some issues for what was to come.
"How to begin," he pondered to himself out loud. Makt had not the slightest concept of how to properly exercise and wasn't sure exactly what he wanted to improve. He thought about this topic as he stared out into the distance. He figured he needed to be fast in order to run away. He probably needed to be a little stronger to put up a good fight. Then there was the whole issue of being able to endure a long bout and use this damned dagger. "There's so much to do," the boy groaned as he sighed deeply. Well, he wasn't getting anywhere just standing around so he picked a spot in the distance and started to run. He would make sure to follow the stream so that he could easily back track to the town, although he would soon find out that he wouldn't be running for very long.
Makt had purposefully started early in the morning when it should have been relatively cold. Even so he was sweating profusely within five minutes. Makt had not jogged much in his life. Every time his feet connected with the ground he put a great deal of force into pushing himself forwards. His posture was also completely off as he swung his arms wildly and stared at the ground which hurt his neck considerably. The man had tried his best to slow down but his slow speed wasn't maintainable for very long. With every step Makt felt his legs tire out that much more. It wasn't long before he stumbled over to the shade of a tall tree and took a seat. "I've got to be doing something wrong. Well, maybe a hundred things. I'm definitely not going to hang my head anymore though, that seriously smarts!"
The young man took out his water and started to drink as much water that he could stomach. While refreshing at first, he quickly realized that he had consumed way too much liquid and felt queasy at best. Makt groaned in anguish as he closed his container and placed it securely back where it belonged. While he was sitting there in the shade, Makt's breathing finally started to settle to a regular rate. That being said, his breaths were now sharp and painful, a clear sign that he was totally out of aerobic shape.
Makt looked around and took in the scenery as he pulled his weapon from its scabbard. "Well look at you," he said as he held it up to the sunlight. This was the first time since he had purchased the dagger that he had actually held it in his hand. It was a little more fancy looking than a run of the mill dagger and had a white hilt that he absolutely adored. He grasped it tightly and got to his feet. There weren't many people in sight which was good because anyone looking at Makt would be able to tell that he had no idea what he was doing. If only he wasn't poor he would be able to afford a tutor and eliminate bad habits at their roots. But for now, he could do nothing but practice on his own.
Makt grasped the blade in his left hand like an eating utensil. He then sawed at the air as if he were slicing open a piece of meat. "Is this how I'm supposed to do it," Makt pondered out loud. With a step forward Makt swung the dagger down as hard as he could. Not anticipating the speed he was capable of, Makt didn't have time to react. His hand completed the arc and the dagger flew out of his hand, landing in the ground right next to his left foot. Makt froze when he realized what had just happened. "Well let's not do that again," he told himself as he pulled the blade from the ground. Even this would be quite the task as he wasn't very strong either.
Again and again the boy would try to swing the weapon. With each swing he would take another step forward. Each time he would simply swing the blade down with varying speeds, trying as hard as he could not to let go of the shiny blade. Feeling his arm getting tired, Makt switched to his right arm and repeated the process of swinging the blade down. "If this is anything like gem cutting then all I have to do is perfect my motions," he would think to himself after twenty more swings. Makt focused on gripping the hilt tightly in his right hand which was nearly white with the force. He then used the most force of any of the previous swings to swing downwards one final time. As expected the blade flew from his hand and he had only a split second to twitch his foot out of the way thus saving himself a trip to the healers.
After all that Makt found himself under the shade of a completely different tree. He wasn't sure why he had felt like taking a step with every downward slice but it came naturally with the movement. He still didn't feel that confident with the blade but he placed it back in the scabbard with quite some effort. Makt had thought that this little break of his would have restored enough of his willpower to keep on running but he wasn't quite sure if it was a good idea. His breaths were still sharp and something had just caught his eye.
A woman with long black hair stood under her own tree's shade and was sitting on the ground. Her legs were extended and she was bending over to touch her toes with her fingertips. Makt made his way over and waved when she finally looked up. She gave him a puzzled look and got to her feet when she saw that the boy had a weapon. "That's close enough," she said when Makt was several paces away. When Makt came to an abrupt halt she continued, "what business do you have with me?"
Makt paused and realized how awkward he must have seemed, "oh um, I was just wondering what you were doing touching your toes. You are very pretty by the way. What's your name?" Makt didn't even mean to say those last parts out loud but he couldn't shut his mouth fast enough.
"I was just stretching before I start work. What I do takes a toll on my body so I stretch to prepare for the punishment. Look, just stay away from me ok?" The woman started to back away and looked ready to leave. She placed a hand on her hip, perhaps preparing to draw a weapon. This was completely unnoticed by Makt who pressed on.
"Hey thanks for the tip! Where do you work by the way," Makt asked as she turned around, "I wasn't kidding about the pretty part! Do you want to have a snack before you head over to work?" The woman ignored him and just kept walking. She left Makt feeling a mixture of embarrassment, shame, and disappointment. "Get your head together," he would scold himself, "What did you think would happen? You're in no position to be flirting and this is hardly the right setting. There's nobody around and you came off as a total creep!"
Makt's utter lack of expertise in the art of talking to pretty girls aside, he felt like today had been a good start on a long road to improving himself. Hopefully he would have the willpower to keep it up and not submit to his lazy tendencies. Makt rested for another break then walked home, wincing with every breath.
