CRAFTING LOVE
by Nobo13
Copyright 2014 Nobo13
*****
Crafting Love
I stepped back in fear as the heat of the furnace drew less sweat from me than the figure in the doorway. My hammer dropped as the tempered steel glowed white with passion.
‘Are you the rumoured blacksmith?’ it asked
‘Yes’ I replied shaking on my knees
‘I want you to make me something’
I stared back finally realising the figure in front of me had a certain aura about it. I didn’t feel fear from it anymore but pity. I could feel its heavy weight. I wanted to craft something to take away its sadness.
*****
My hammer met with ingots like they were rice. I kept the fire burning but I needed more heat.
‘Violet,’ I called, ‘I need more heat’
I felt the dying flames become white hot again. I was still surprised everything I saw it. My friend bend the laws of nature with but a hand gesture. I suppose you could call it magic, but what would you call her? A witch? A goddess?
‘Violet, I need more heat’ I called again
‘Will it work this time?’ she asked
‘We’ll find out!’
I struck the white metals together as if I was working with dough. The form it took became less natural and more artificial. I drew a long staff of steel as I called for Violet again.
‘Stand back’ she said before becoming formless.
I walked back to the doorway as I watched smoke lift the staff up high. From the smoke came gentle hands of darkness that felt and moulded the staff into a form I did not recognise. It was always the same, a form that I had never seen before but I knew. Like a distant memory that I locked away.
Spirals of steel formed and then everything fell to the floor. From the smoke a woman appeared.
‘It wasn’t right again’ she sighed
‘I’m sorry, want to try again?’
‘Do you not need to eat?’
“Ah, right, yes’
The woman was my mother. At least, that’s what the form was. Violet couldn’t stay the way she was. She would scare anyone who came near. Even if I were called the best blacksmith, keeping a monster would scare any customers away.
I lost my mother a long time ago. I couldn’t remember her face until Violet read my mind. Since then, she has been using that form in the open. Ironically, she’s been attracting customers that way.
‘We have some pots today,’ she said to me, ‘Some of the villagers in the mountains have some damaged from the winter’
‘Ah, it’s harsh up there. I wonder if they coped ok? The harvest wasn’t good this year. Could you do something about it?’
‘Me?’
‘Yes, like help their crops grow or something?’
‘I can only speak to the forces of destruction… I would make things worst’
‘Ah, sorry,’ I sighed, ‘I didn’t mean to bring that up’
‘After the pots, shall we try again?’
‘I think I’ll head into the town actually’
‘Oh?’
‘Our steel isn’t enough. We need some more iron. I might have to head to the capital’
‘If it’s iron you need, I can find it’
‘Oh?’
The figure of my mother disappeared into a swarm of bees. They flew off and I wondered when that stopped being strange to me. I headed to the furnace and surveyed the pots the villagers brought me. Rust and snow had damaged some, but I could fix them.
As the heat of the fire calmed me, and I lost myself in my work, I thought back to what she said the first time we met.
‘You want me to make you something?’ I replied
‘Yes,’ the gruesome beast nodded, ‘I want you to craft me love’
‘Love?’ I pulled a face
‘Love’ it nodded
‘I’m not sure I can, it isn’t something you can make’
‘No. It isn’t something you can make yet. I can help, but you can make it. I see it’
A shadow in the doorway woke me from my work. I turned to Violet and smiled. I got up and took the iron ore from her hands. I didn’t notice before, but my mother had small fragile hands. Compared to me, it was hard to believe she gave birth to me.
I struck steel and iron together as the thoughts flowed into me. I followed what Violet taught me. The form did not matter. Struck each blow with your heart and soul. Push your vision of love into the steel and it will happen.
I didn’t understand it at first, but after a while, I realised a part of me was imprinted into my work. Though slight, I had the same ability as Violet. I could flow my vision into my work.
But even if I had Violet’s strength, it never worked out. I realised a long time ago that I could never complete Violet’s request. I had no idea what love was. I had no idea what it was.
The form of my mother was not something I was bothered about. And that was because I never knew her. My grandfather raised me. I was taught nothing but how to be a smith. Soon after, he died and I was left with nothing but this furnace and his skills. I couldn’t find my vision of love. Maybe that was why Violet couldn’t find a form for it. Why it always failed.
That night I tried to sleep in the open. The spring air was warming, so I decided to sleep under the stars. As I nearly fell asleep, the rustling of feet woke me.
‘Violet?’ I stared
‘Sorry,’ she replied, ‘Did I wake you?’
‘No,’ I yawned, “Come, sit’
‘It didn’t work today again,’ she sighed, ‘Maybe it was impossible after all?’
I didn’t answer her. I felt the same.
‘Violet?’ I asked, ‘What do you want with love?’
For a moment she stared at the stars before answering my question.
‘I am an old spirit. One before time. I know of many things, of the elements, of the past and future. But I am without emotion. I cannot feel the sways of the human heart. There was a time when I was worshipped as a god, and another when I was a demon. But never did I feel anything. Never did I care. I want to know. What is this emptiness inside me? And how can I fill it up’
We didn’t speak anymore. I stared with her into the starry night sky. Somehow, I felt that way too. An empty space inside me. Waiting to be filled up.
The next day I headed into the city. There was a shop selling strange foods but I did not have the money for it. Another time I told myself, but it was always the same. Violet decided to follow me, and we walked through the markets finding things filled with love.
She felt these energies stored up, and we would buy them to forge into love. It never worked, but we still tried. I wandered about by myself as Violet entertained herself in the marketplace. I walked down the main high street as a child bumped into me.
‘Sorry,’ I helped the child up, ‘Are you ok?’
The child didn’t answer, she was on the verge of tears. A distressed mother pulled her aside and stepped forth. I didn’t mean any harm but I felt the aggression from her. I stepped back and apologised again. It was then I noticed a burn on the mother’s hand. I asked about it and heard an odd story.
She had gotten it when the child was about to burn herself. It felt rather odd to me as I couldn’t quite figure out when I heard something similar. Something like this.
Violet found me and then I lost my thoughts. We left the city and returned home. The lonely night I remembered what was so familiar.
‘Your mother,’ my grandfather told me, ‘Don’t blame her. She chose you. Remember that. She chose you’
I awoke with tears in the early sunlight. I called for Violet and we started work straight away.
‘Did you know Violet?’ I asked, ‘My mother and I f
ell ill once. We couldn’t afford the medicine, even for one of us. So she sold herself off. My grandfather didn’t tell me more, but I’m a man now. I know what that means now. I never saw her again. She never saw me get better or grow up. She died long before we were told you know’
‘I’m sorry,’ Violet changed her form, ‘I did not mean to cause you pain’
‘No,’ I smiled, ‘It’s ok. I know now what I wanted’
‘…wait,’ Violet finally noticed, ‘Stop! What are you doing?’
‘It’s ok,’ I kept striking the steel, ‘It’s ok, Violet. I want this. You were wrong. The form does matter. I never spoke with myself, I always ran away from it. But I know what love is now’
‘If you continue, you might die’
‘I know,’ I smiled weakly, ‘I know’
With each blow, the steel became enchanted. With each strike, I became weaker. I kept going, pouring my soul into the metal. Taking every last piece of my being, and ripping it out of me. At last I survived. A man without a soul.
Violet took the molten steel and formed it. She could see the form I had in my head. I grew weak and fell into darkness.
I awoke in my bed. Violet sat next to me with a glass of water ready.
‘Did it work?’ I asked
‘I don’t know yet’
I stared as she opened a bag. Inside was metallic white dust. I nodded and asked her to take it. She nodded and put some into her mouth. She drank it down with some water before a tear fell. Many more followed.
It was medicine. The one that saved my life. The one that could have saved my mother’s. For a while Violet cried quietly before thanking me. We spilt the remaining amount in half.
She told me to take it to restore the part of my soul I lost. I asked her what she would do with hers.
‘When I am alone again, and when I am ready to die. I’ll take the rest. I have lived too long, so it is almost my time to say goodbye to everything. Thank you, my friend. When I go, I will go in peace. I will go feeling loved’
*****
I heard there was a heavy thunderstorm down south. Where the earth erupted and fire breathed out. And while it was nature at it most destructive, it was beautiful sight. Some say it was the moment a god died, because it moved anyone who saw it. It was as if fire, thunder, and earthquake came to mourn a death.
I thought about it as my numb hands shook with old age. My granddaughter held my hand gently as she told this strange tale. I smiled and asked for to take something out my drawer. She asked what it was, and I told her it was my medicine. I took the last few grains of powder and followed behind Violet. Hoping she had found her love.
###
About the author
“Hello, thank you for reading. I hope you liked it. Love is formless. There is a form for love. For me, the former is probably the connections I’ve built, and the latter being the things given to me by the people I miss.
I often think, why do I assign so much emotional value to something stupid. It can be a coaster, or a hexaflexagon, but it has a huge share of my heart. And if I listen closely, I can hear myself telling me why. It’s because it’s from them. It’s because it connects you to them.”
For those who are tragically obsessed, Nobo13 was born 1987 in Cambridgeshire. He spent four years doing a Physics degree but spend most of the time doodling and writing. Currently he is somewhat of a teacher.
Nobo13’s pen name is derived from using his surname, just look above! His more unusual hobbies are collecting headphones, yoyos, staring aimlessly out the window (which consumes much of his time) and messing about with musical instruments- at the moment these are ocarinas and ukuleles.
Please check out my website and my other works, thanks for reading!
More from this author
I currently have a poetry book, two short story book- that only use 50 words in each story, and a children’s sci-fi book that are available from the following links:
The Man in the Desert:
Lost in the Painting
Fixing Broken Promises
The Empty Necklace
Time left over
You can also search ‘nobo13’ in the iBooks store!
Be sure to check my website every now and then for news and updates!
Connect with me online
My website: https://www.wix.com/nobo13/nobo13
My blog: https://nobo13.wordpress.com/
My Twitter page: https://twitter.com/#!/lazynobo13
My Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/nobo13