Solo [The Ironworks]Ethan's Last Day

[Ethan Ironhorse]

87th day of Winter 513AV 8th bell The Ironworks Ethan entered the Ironworks on his last final day. It felt somewhat surreal as he stood at the forge he had been working at for the last fourteen to fifteen years. He had grown up in shop, his father and brother could be seen every now and again forging horseshoes at other anvils and forges. Ethan could point to the forge where his grandfather showed him his first blacksmithing techniques. The Ironworks was more home then the little dark apartment that he lived in. Ethan picked up the hammer and tongs that he had used for the last several years. The hammer’s leather grip had been worn several times and Ethan had replaced it, while Ethan could almost see every dent and knick in his tongs that a misplaced blow had rendered. There was a lot of history in this shop that Ethan had been a part of and a lot of people that he considered friends and a few enemies. Ethan looked at the forge and knew that though he had purchased his hammer and tongs several days ago, that the forge would not be silent long. The Ironworks kept working even though he would be gone. That was the thing about the Ironworks, Ros asked his smiths to constantly produce and to challenge themselves. Ethan placed his hand on the iron anvil and wondered who would be the next smith to strike iron or steel upon its surface. There had been a part of them that wanted to take the anvil with him. Instead, he had purchased a new one to be forged from new iron. It had been an expense, but Ethan felt like it was a new beginning in a sense. Old tools that matched his history and skill, a new anvil for the journey that he would be taking. Ethan looked at the forge and for a moment smiled, he would miss the entire shop and forges, but he wouldn’t miss working all day and going back to a tiny apartment. He was pretty sure that he had saved enough miza’s to buy a decent house and perhaps even start a shop of his own. It would be interesting, to see what the future held, and for once Ethan was excited to see the new season. So he looked around at the forge began to work on the last project that he would ever do for Ros and the Ironworks. A broken plow blade that needed to be wielded back together. Ethan had set the plow blade and several wielding pins into the forge. Slowly the steel began to heat up as Ethan worked the bellows. His arms moved up and down, muscles moving in a rhythmic place. Whoosh, the air entered the forge making the coals glow bright red, and flames shooting up around the metal. The like a wheezing old man as the bellows expanded sucking in more air. The sound seemed to relax Ethan, conjuring images of his grandfather as he would chase Ethan around the room. Quickly Ethan’s arm went up, and whoosh went the bellows as air was brought in. Pulling on the bar, air left the bellows and heat from the increasing flame blasted his face. The steel began to have a soft glow about its end, the color orange centered about the flame quickly turned to blue and eventually into black as the bar progressed from the flame. The flames slowly began to die down, like a hand retreating from the gentle caress of the iron. Whoosh, once again Ethan’s arm shot up allowing the heavy weighted top to collapse the leather and force the air into the forge.