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Rated: 13+ · Other · Other · #1670882
The beginning to a writing project.
Chapter One

         Today was just another day for Braedon. Two people had visited his shop, requesting repair on their farming equipment, and others had come and hired him to make new shoes for their horses. Libios was a simple town, with little crime, and even fewer deaths. That was just how the blacksmith liked it; Simple, quiet, and easy to live. Now, as the sun began its descent from the heavens, he stood under the awning beside his shop with his long black hair tied behind his head. His forges glowed bright red with heat, and his hammer rained blow upon blow onto the new plow he'd designed for a farmer that lived relatively close to the village center.
         Libios was small, in comparison to many cities, but it ranged far from its center, being a farming community. There were several houses that were a part of the town that one could not see from the shop. The main road of Libios was little more than a cattle trail that had been an ideal place to build next to, but in time, the many generations of village foot traffic had widened the road a bit. There was a small inn that Braedon could see from where he stood, though they almost never recieved strangers in this part of the country, to his shop's direct left was the butcher's shop, and the bakery was on the other side of that. Both shops kept their distance from the fire of the forges.
         As he struck the blade, Braedon thought of his homeland, the Key Islands. He'd left several years ago, to persue a knighthood from the king of Damechis, who had pled for soldiers to battle the sea serpent that was destroying his navy. In eleven years, Braedon had not returned to the shores of his home once. His family was small, but they could get by without him, as for his friends, they had traveled with him to Cerrin, the capitol of Damechis.
          Braedon lifted the plow and plunged it into a barrel of water. Steam arose with a loud hissing noise around him, reminding him of the swamps of the north. He lifted the plow after a few moments and inspected the edges.
         "A little dull, but a whetstone will quickly fix that" He said turning around and heading back into the shop from the side door.
          As Braedon began to make his way behind his large desk a boy ran into his shop, jumped on one of the many shelves and lifted himself into the rafters quicker than a squirrel leaping through the trees. He looked down at the door and slid into the shadows as another group of boys rushed in.
         The boy at the front of the party was someone Braedon recognized. His name was Eric. He was muscular and short, about Braedon's own height of five feet, nine inches, with short blonde hair and brown eyes, which were fixed on Braedon.
         "Have you seen Lucas?"
          Obviously, the boy hiding in his rafters, Braedon shook his head, "Nope, I just walked in."
         Eric growed, "I guess he ran out the back."
         Braedon shrugged.
         "Alright," Eric sighed, turning to his group, "Let's keep looking"
         As they took their leave, Lucas nimbly dropped from the rafters. The tall boy looked at Braedon with green eyes and nodded towards him.
          "Thank you."
         Braedon shrugged again, "You're welcome. They obviously seem to have an interest in you."
         Lucas walked over to the counter and looked down at the rough wooden countertop. "They don't like me because I'm not like them."
          "We're all different."
          "but I'm the worst," He interrupted, looking up at braedon thorugh his brown hair. "I don't sleep during the night, I work the late shift at the inn, and I spend all of my free time in the Relics." He looked back down and muttered, "That's reason enough for them to call me a demon."
         His responce made Braedon pause. The Relics were a forest of green trees, with soft barks that felt almost like skin. Libios was built just below the largest forest of Relics in Damechis, and stories of monsters, death, and dark magic were weaved into every known fiber of the forests.
          "Old stories say the trees once glowed in the night," Braedon offered, not knowing what else to say.
          Lucas looked back into the smith's blue eyes, "They still do...in the deeper parts of the forest anyway."
         Braedon raises his eyebrows in suprise. The stories claimed that the Relics had lost any magical properties when the Sages had been swept from the country. He crossed his large arms, "Just how far into the Relics have you gone?"
          Lucas's eyes unfocused as he thought back. "um, about half a day's walk. I'd say about ten miles in."
          Braedon nodded while dread began to knot itself within his stomach, "Maybe you scare people by going so far in, and coming out unharmed."
          Lucas's face twisted in anger and for a split second, before he looked away, Braedon saw a spark of something behing Lucas's eyes.
          "Maybe," Lucas began in a low voice, "People should stop living under their beds and learn something."
          Braedon felt more fear start to permeate his heart, "Maybe."
          Just like that, the anger was gone, and Lucas's eyes were clear again. He smile, "Thank you again. I'll go now. Have a nice day"
          Braedon nodded as Lucas made his way out the door and back outside. He felt his fear begin to die away, and felt something else stirring inside him, something he called his sense of adventure.
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