Solo Steel Yourself [Hammer and Nail]

[Kryos Coal]

Steel Yourself 6th of Winter, 513 A.V. It was dark when Coal began his day as he always did, rising slowly and quietly, as to not wake his compatriots, and walking slowly from out of the rickety wooden shack that housed him and the other field hands to do his morning stretches and work out. He glanced out into the darkness, a slight breeze drifting through wiry hair, and for some reason, turned back to his straw mat, rolling it to the side and removing the small layer of earth in which he kept his stone pendant and a dried up sprig of lavender from the previous season. The Isur walked silently upon dried earth outside with the only two possessions he could call his own, and sat down upon the ground. The pendant he tied around his ankle. With the coming of Winter he had been given a pair of new (to him) trousers that were clearly made for a taller man, being only five feet tall the pants went well past his feet and Coal had to roll them up at the ankles, but due to the loose material they always came undone and tripped him up when moving around the fields. This provided an excellent hiding place for his pendant, however, which he didn't dare wear around his neck. The sprig of lavender stayed put for now as the Isur laid his back upon the hard earth and began his morning sit ups, tightening his stomach and making sure he lay down straight and fully after each motion to get the full effort of the exercise. It wasn't long before the Isur's breaths were heaving with exertion, and he sat up fully, then took a chime long break before flipping over and pushing off of the ground with both shining arms, closing his eyes and just focusing upon his breathing and the motion of the push ups. He was a strong creature, stronger than the average man, but he wasn't the strongest being in Kenash by a long shot, and he grew tired faster than he would have liked. Every morning, however, he tried to make himself do five more push ups than he had the previous morning. It was a small amount, and sometimes he didn't have the time for it, but day after day they stacked up upon each other. Sweat broke out upon his forehead, arms burning, but he did just...five...more, and then lay flat upon the ground until his breathing leveled out and he could see a faint halo around the dark horizon that signaled Syna's ascent. Rising the Isur lifted the dried and crumbling lavender sprig from the ground and held it between a dark thumb and forefinger. Even now the sprig could get him in more trouble than what it was worth, though he had enjoyed it's symbolism for a time, a fragile yet beautiful gift given by a woman who owned nothing, just like him. Coal took a few steps out toward the unused fields, hard and cracked with Winter weather, and brought both palms of his hands together crushing the plant and letting its fibers be crushed between his rocky palms. It was then that he noticed a shadow form walking purposefully over the dried mounds of earth towards the slave quarters. It was still just a bit too early to be waking the slaves, and Coal's crest furrowed over his green eyes, wondering what the purpose of this being could be. As soon as they were close enough his gaze dropped to the ground, the sound of creaking new leather giving him enough information about the person approaching to know it wasn't another slave. "Isur? Perfect, you've been ordered into town with the damaged slaves to market." Coal felt his whole body freeze. He had heard that they had gathered up the older slaves, the one's missing limbs from fights and who had grave injuries, to be sold cheaply at market to whomever would buy. Of course the thought had never occurred to him that he would be chosen for such a sale, he was fit and able, stronger than most any human equivalent. Had he really done something truly wrong? "Y-yes sir." He said, realizing his timed response had had a delay to it because of his shock. There was a cold pause and then a snort from the man. "You really do have rocks for brains aye stone man? We're not selling you." Relief flooded through Coal then, until he realized he hadn't been ordered to do anything other than go with the shipment. Which meant...he didn't know what he was being sent to town for.

[Kryos Coal]

The trip was slow and bumpy as the slaves that Whiplash deemed useless were carted in large wagons into Kenash proper. Coal was allowed to sit next to the driver of the head wagon in relative comfort compared to the rickety hard slats of his compatriots who looked mournfully out into the cold blue sky that heralded an end to one life and the beginning of something that was sure to be far worse. Coal sat quietly, hands curled in his lap, wondering what it must feel like for them, to be like a rusty garden hoe or a broken shovel, barely worth acknowledging. He felt sadness, but not so much for his fellows, of which he barely knew, but for him. From what he knew of his stony body he would live longer than most human, but there would come a day too when he was old and useless, and it seemed that this day was simply a vision of his own future for him to watch. The carriage driver, a taciturn and burly dark skinned female, offered up no conversation, so the whole ride passed in thoughtful silence, broken only by the sound of gravel being crushed beneath wagon wheels and the plodding of the mules. Occasionally a stray bird call would rise above the din, but not often. They were not stopped, and in fact more than one Dynasty wagon load joined their own on the way to the markets, by the time they had reached Kenash, the line of wagons had created quite the procession, and people, slave, Dynasty, and freeborn alike peeked out from shop fronts and businesses to see the long line of refuse from the plantations. Coal was surprised when his wagon stopped and the woman grunted at him. "This is your stop Isur, find the Radacke's smithy." Coal was a little upset that this slave knew more about what he was supposed to do than he did, but as was instinct, hopped swiftly off of his seat at the front of the wagon, and only paused for a moment to see the cart move one, a few pairs of forlorn eyes meeting his, but seeming only to look through him. The slave walked slowly down the road, somewhat familiar with the Radacke smithy called Hammer and Nail, but unsure of why he was arriving there. He had been sent on errands to the building more than a few times, each seeming like torment for the field slave that longed to hold tong and hammer in hand once again. A thought came into his mind then, but he stifled it quickly, not wanting to give purchase to fleeting hopes that would come to nothing. The reinforced door that led to the smithy creaked slightly, and as Coal entered the shop he saw the back of a woman, her dark hair pulled tightly against her head as she leaned over the cherry red embers of the forging, checking the color of a piece of steel stuffed into the fire. White hot it was ready to work with, and she pulled it out and placed it onto a double horned anvil, slamming at the surface and pushing it farther outward, thinning the material, and occasionally tempering it against the side of the anvil to give it more than one dimension. It took only a few chimes for the white hot color to fade to cherry and she put it back into the fire, then turned to Coal, dark almond shaped eyes assessing him like one would a piece of metal. "You are Coal." "Yes." He said, feet shifting uncomfortably, unsure of how to proceed. "Then show me what you can do."