Despite his words, I remained silent and continued observing him from a distance. This man had an incomprehensible amount of power within him. He was a skyscraper in the force compared to an ant like me. If he so wished, he could kill me with but a thought.
His head turned and we made eye contact for a moment. "I'm sure that you are aware that such staring is rude, yes?"
I nearly got lost in his bright blue eyes. They shimmered in the heated air. There was a warmth and light behind them that washed away my anxiety. This man wouldn't hurt me. "What is this place?"
He turned his head back to the furnace. "Such a frivolous matter. Come. I can't recall when I last spoke with another man."
While I was no longer nervous, I approached with caution. The heat grew stronger with each step.
He sighed. "I can promise you that I don't bite any longer. It happened just once."
Was that his attempt at a joke? I walked over and stood next to him, joining him in gazing into the furnace. It was uncomfortable to breathe. The scorched air was almost hot enough to cook my insides.
He glanced at me once more before his eyes returned to the furnace. "With all the skills I've acquired throughout my life and beyond, do you know why I spend most of my time forging?"
I thought carefully. Was this some kind of test? "Is it the metal?"
He hesitated for a moment before shrugging. "In a way, that is true. Wood is too soft, pottery too fragile, masonry too unforgiving, electronics too fickle, I could go on. Forging, however, is just right."
He picked up a prodder from the tool rack next to the furnace and methodically poked at the coals in the furnace. The roaring flames grew louder as the coals crackled and popped. "Metal is solid like the earth, it won't shatter when struck, a little heat is all it takes to reshape it, and it won't fall without good reason."
He placed the prodder back on the rack. "Additionally, metal is the tool most reliable for all the other crafts." He fell silent for several seconds. "Child, what shall I call you by?"
I felt entranced by the dancing flames and slowly heating metal. "Kyle."
The man nodded. "Kyle... A peculiar name. Have you any experience with forging?"
I shook my head. "Not like this."
His brow raised, revealing his curiosity. "Said like that, it seems you have experience in other facets of creation. Do tell."
I sighed. "Well, I studied mechanical engineering. Most of my experience is with larger structures and materials. However, I have spent a considerable amount of time machining."
He nodded with a soft smile. "How wonderful. It pleases me that men of your time, whatever time that may be, still strive to learn the arts of creation." He turned to look at me. "Would you like to humor this old man and give forging a try?"
I tilted my head and looked at him. "Why?"
Rather than responding to my question, the man reached into a deep pocket and pulled out a pair of leather gloves. "Here. Put these on."
I hesitated but still took the gloves. They were heavy and warm. The leather was very thick. I put them on and was astonished as I could no longer feel the heat of the furnace on my hands.
I looked back up to him and found him holding out the hammer he was holding before. "You may not be as strong as I, but this hammer shan't be too much for you to handle."
I gripped the hammer and then he let go. My hand dropped a few inches under the weight of the hammer. Despite the weight, it was surprisingly easy to hold. It was unbelievably well balanced.
The man grinned, clearly noticing my astonishment. "The key to a good smith is a good hammer. The key to a good hammer is balance, as with most things in life."
He turned away from me and walked over to the furnace. He then reached in with just his glove and grabbed the piece of metal that he had been working on. It was glowing yellow.
Then, he placed the metal on the anvil and pointed at a specific spot on it. "Grab the metal with your free hand and strike where I say. Not too hard, but with some spirit."
I nodded and raised the hammer. Then, I smashed it down upon the spot at which he was pointing. I felt my bones vibrating after the hammer landed. It shook me to my literal core.
He chuckled and kept pointing at the same spot. "You'll get used to it. Again."
Again... Again... Again... And again. I struck the metal relentlessly and to the point that I lost count.
He gave me tips here and there. For the most part, however, he seemed satisfied with my skills... or lack thereof.
Back in the furnace. Strike. Repeat. This cycle continued for what felt like hours. I repeatedly folded the metal. It gradually shaped into a slightly curved blade of about arm's length as my body grew sore.
Suddenly, he stopped pointing after I had finished one last round of hammering. I looked to him helplessly. My body was in agony. "What now?"
He reached out with his hand. A bucket lifted off the ground and floated towards us. "Coat the blade."
I nodded and reached into the bucket. Then, I started evenly distributing the lump of clay across the blade.
He shook his head shortly after I started. "Less clay on the edge. More on the spine."
I nodded and adjusted the distribution before it started to harden. The clay bucket floated back to the corner of the room as I did so.
The man then gestured back towards the furnace. "Heat it."
These several minutes passed in silence. Although nothing happened, it was some of the tensest minutes of my life thus far.
Then, he gestured towards a barrel next to the anvil. "Now quench."
I briefly hesitated but pulled the blade from the furnace. I walked over to the barrel and then dunked the clay coated blade. Small flames burst from the surface of the oil, bouncing off the glove I wore.
After 10 seconds, he gestured for me to pull it out. He then held out his open palm.
I handed the clay covered blade to him. He closed his eyes and let go of the blade. It floated in the air and then started vibrating. The clay began to crack, falling off in flakes and chunks.
What was left behind was a dull blade with no proper edge and in dire need of polishing. He opened his eyes and examined the blade closely. "Not bad for your first time, kid."
I smiled. "Than-"
I fell silent as I watched him throw the blade back into the furnace. I was dumbstruck. "WHAT?"
He sighed and shook his head. "I do believe I said that it was not bad. I never said that it was good work. It would have undoubtedly been a waste of time and material to sharpen and polish that blade."
My shoulders sank in defeat. "I see."
He chuckled and waved his hand. Two chairs slid over. "Let's sit. We've much to discuss."