Mind Forged: Book One of the Enchanters of Xarparion by T Michael Ford Page A

door for the first day of class. Rosa insisted that she come along to the first class to verify that everything was alright. Somehow, I didn’t think that was the case; she was acting like a mother who was about to send her child out on his own for the first time.
    I could smell the forge befor e we could see it. It was located out between the first and second wall, much closer to the first, because the wizards complained about the smell and the noise. Personally, I liked it; it reminded me of home. The building wasn’t so much a building as it was a giant stone cone with the largest forge I’ve ever heard about. There looked to be ten complete stations all surrounding one grand kiln. Smoke from the wood burning to charcoal was roaring out the top, and I could see the heat distortions making everything below the cone look wavy. Currently, only one of these stations was in use, by a dwarf in full swing. The noise made a heavy comforting din of activity, so much different than the quiet reflection time in Rosa’s library and I found it all very exciting!
    “ Darroth, it’s good to see you again!” Rosa shouted. The dwarf put down his hammer and removed his gloves. He was stouter than most of the dwarves I had seen in Xarparion, with his reddish beard plated into stubby braids to keep it out of the coals. A worn leather jerkin and copper armbands completed his outfit.
    “ Rosa, it’s good to see you, too. So what can I do for you today?”
    “ You know that agreement we made last week? Well, today’s the day.”
    “ Already? Then this is him?” She nodded and Darroth walked up to me and gave me a once over, paying special attention to the size of my biceps and the calluses on my hands. “Rosa tells me that you were a blacksmith before you came here, correct?”
    “ Yes sir, I worked with my father.”
    “ Cut the ‘sir’ crap, I don’t believe in that stuff. Well, let’s get you doing some good honest work and see what you know. From now on, anything that you learned about how to treat the metal is to be forgotten. Steel is much different from the farm grade iron you worked with. Understand? Good.” I followed him inside to the workstations, and he handed me a wrought iron bar. “Now, I know you have never done this before, but I need to get a sense of where your skills are. Today, your job is to turn that raw iron into the semblance of the blade of a long sword. I don’t care about the hilt or guard at this point, just the blade. I know whatever you end up with won’t hold an edge worth a damn or be pretty, but I’m not having you muck up a bar of good steel for an entrance exam, so get to work.” Turning his attention back to Rosa, “I’ll send him back to you when he is done with my test.”
    “ If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll stay and watch.”
    With that , I set to work at one of the open stations, quickly setting things up the way I liked them. I rammed the iron bar into the hottest part of the coals and was soon ready to work. After cutting the basic pattern and an hour of hammering and reheating, I started to notice changes in the bar and myself. I had a general knowledge of how to build a blade; after all, a harvesting scythe has a blade of sorts. Methodically, I concentrated on creating the bevel and that work formed a rhythm to which I was completely lost. Time meant nothing to me. I didn’t even feel the heat, flatten, fold, sand, repeat, and finally quench in the barrel of oil behind the kiln. My mind noted indifferently that the blue glow that I had last seen on the magic pot at home had found its way into the metalwork, but still I continued to plow effort into the blade. Suddenly, as if a candle were snuffed out, I came out of my daze, a bit unsteady, but curious. I looked down at what a few hours ago was just a long strip of iron and was now a complete blade, hilt, and guard, too. I stood there dumbfounded, how was this even possible? My brain and limited experience