Channing loaded the sickles onto the wagon he borrowed from Popper and left for the village where he grew up.
Channing's hometown was located outside the eastern walls of the city.
Looking at the wheat that had been sown last fall, survived the winter, and was now slowly ripening, Channing recalled the time he left home two years ago.
He had been determined not to return until he had achieved something significant, so he drove the wagon with a slightly bitter feeling.
After a while, he saw his family home in the distance.
Channing's family home was a two-story house located in the middle of a vast field. It was a very old house, where his ancestors had lived since time immemorial.
Of course, it had been renovated and rebuilt several times since then, so it wasn't the same house his ancestors from hundreds of years ago lived in, but it was still a very old place.
Channing drove the wagon along the long road that ran through the wheat field. That road was also said to have been built by his distant ancestors.
Someone working in the field beside the road straightened up at the sound of the wagon and looked towards it.
A boy, who seemed to have been catching insects with a sack in his hand, saw Channing in the wagon and shouted in surprise.
"Uh... Brother Channing?!"
"Hey, Peller. Everything alright?"
"Oh my gosh! Brother! It's been years! And without a word!"
Peller rushed up from the field and shouted with joy, and Channing waved with a smile.
While Channing and his younger brother Peller were exchanging greetings, Channing's older brother, Channer, who was plowing the land on the other side, wiped his hands on his clothes and strode towards the road.
"Hey! Channing! What brings you here?"
"Hey! Brother Channer! How have you been?"
Channer jumped onto the wagon and slapped Channing on the shoulder.
"You punk! I thought you were dead! What brings you here all of a sudden?"
"Haha... Ow, brother. I brought the things Charlie asked for. Where's Charlie?"
"She's at home. Hey! At least keep in touch! Do you know how worried Mother is?"
"I'll tell you later."
Channing replied to Channer's nagging, and as Channer jumped off the wagon, he moved the horse and headed for the house.
As the wagon moved along the road and the house gradually grew larger, Channing felt a tightness in his chest.
This was the house he had left abruptly two years ago. He had run away without properly informing his parents, so going back home suddenly, even for Charlie's request, made him uncomfortable.
"Sigh..."
Channing let out a deep sigh. The wagon continued relentlessly along the road.
As the wagon neared the house, he saw his mother and Charlie hanging laundry.
Channing's mother, who was hanging clothes on a wooden clothesline in the yard, looked up at the sound of the wagon between the clothes.
She squinted and looked at the person in the wagon, then recognized him and shouted in surprise, throwing down the laundry basket and running towards the wagon.
"Channing?! Is that you, Channing?!"
"Yeah, it's me, Mom."
As Channing stopped the wagon in front of the house and got off, his mother rushed over and hugged him, stroking his face with both hands.
"Oh my. Mom, stop it. How have you been?"
"I'm fine..."
Looking at his mother, her eyes brimming with tears as she endlessly stroked his face, Channing felt apologetic and somewhat forcibly pulled away from her embrace.
His mother, seemingly a little disappointed, held onto Channing's hand and continued speaking.
"Have you been well? Are you sleeping well? Are you sick anywhere? Oh! You must be hungry! Have you been eating well?"
"Ask one question at a time. I've been eating well lately, so don't worry. My living situation is comfortable too, so don't worry too much. Where's Father? Is he out?"
"He went to gather firewood. But what brings you here? You came suddenly without any contact."
"I made and brought what Charlie asked for. I'll give it to her and leave quickly."
Channing approached the wagon and pulled out what he had brought. It was a flat wooden box.
"What's that?"
"This is the item Charlie's older sister asked for."
"Yes. It's the item I asked you to make."
At Channing's words, Charlie, who was standing next to him, spoke, and at that moment, his older brother, Channer, entered the room.
Channer, as if he had heard what Charlie had just said, looked at her and opened his mouth,
"You asked for it?"
Channing untied the string and removed the cloth.
"I brought the sickle that Charlie's older sister asked for."
"The sickle is a bit old, isn't it? So you work at a blacksmith's, that's why you made..."
Channer, who was speaking while looking at the sickle in Channing's hand, stopped talking and stared at the sickle for a long time.
After carefully examining the silver blade and the handle, which was also silver but not as shiny, Channer slightly frowned and opened his mouth.
"The handle is also made of metal? Then it's too heavy to use!"
"Try holding it first before you say anything. Your younger brother worked hard to make it."
At Channer's words, Charlie spoke and pulled Channer's arm, and Channer awkwardly went forward and took the sickle from Channing's hand. And he shouted in surprise.
"Huh?! What? It's metal, but how is it so light?"
"Well, it's originally that kind of metal, so just accept it. Go and try using it. If it's uncomfortable, tell me. I'll take it and fix it for you."
When Channing said this to the surprised Channer, Channer nodded and walked to a patch of weeds growing long near the house and swung the sickle once.
With a swish, the sound of the blade cutting through the weeds could be heard, and the weeds fell to the side in an instant.
Channer stepped back in surprise.
"Oh my! It cuts incredibly well!"
"Use it well. By the way, the blade is made of metal that doesn't rust easily. But don't just leave it soaked in water."
"You... Did you really make this, Channing? It's like magic?"
At Channer's surprised voice, Channing shrugged his shoulders involuntarily.
Actually, it wasn't that difficult. The materials were good, and the machines were good, but Channing thought it wasn't his own skill.
However, Channing was happy that someone thought well of the item he made and used it, and that his family accepted it that way.
"Is this what brother Channing made?"
His younger brother, Peller, also admired the sickle.
"I guess we don't have to use that old sickle anymore. It's been more than a hundred years old, so even if you sharpen the blade, it doesn't sharpen properly, and it was so difficult."
"Peller, when did you ever sharpen a sickle? But this is really good. It will be much easier during harvest."
While Peller and Channer were talking about the sickle, their mother slapped Peller's back with her hand and scolded him.
"You guys! Your brother came home after a long time, and you're just looking at the item without even greeting him properly!"
"Ouch... Mom! We met in the field earlier and said hello!"
Peller shouted while rubbing his back, and Charlie and Channer burst into laughter.
"More importantly, Channer! Go and bring your father quickly! Tell him Channing is here."
"Why are you calling me all of a sudden?"
While the mother was talking, someone entered through the door and shouted. It was a middle-aged man with white hair.
The man, looking around with wrinkled eyes, had a bundle of firewood piled high above his head along with a jigae on his back.
Channer and Peller quickly ran and helped the man take down the jigae.
"Father!"
Channing called the man father and ran to him, and the man turned his shoulders, looked at Channing, and opened his mouth.
"Is that Channing? If you came, you should have gone out to the field, what are you doing here?"
"Oh my! This man! His son came home after several years!"
"Well, if you're here, it would be nice if you helped with the housework."
At his mother's scolding, his father said that and went to the well and drew water, and Channing quickly ran to his father and helped him draw water with the bucket.
"Well, it's good to see that you're healthy, father."
"I'm still in my prime. But did you get fired from that blacksmith's workshop you were working at again?"
His father said as he washed his hands with the water Channing drew, and Channing sighed.
"Oh dear. I'm working just fine. This time, I made a sickle and brought it."
"A sickle?"
"Yes. Charlie's older sister said it was old."
After washing his face with water and wiping it with the towel around his neck, his father looked at Channing.
"Well, our sickle is old. Wasn't that the one my grandfather bought?"
"It was a really old item."
While his father and Channing were talking, Channer brought the sickle, and his father examined it carefully before taking it.
"It's light. Clean. It's a good item. The blacksmith at the workshop is skilled."
"I made this."
"You? How long have you been working at the blacksmith's to already make something like this?"
His father looked at Channing in surprise, and Channing smiled awkwardly and scratched his head.
"It's not an ordinary blacksmith's workshop."
"Oh dear. Stop chattering and come in quickly. Let's eat!"
His mother shouted, and then everyone started to get ready to go inside.
Channer took the sickle to the storage shed, and Channing and Peller followed their father through the door.
4.
The whole family sat around the dining table.
The meal was just hard black bread, soup, and boiled sausages.
"If you were coming, you should have contacted us. We couldn't prepare anything."
"How can I contact you from there? This is enough."
Channing said in response to his mother's words and took out the item he brought. It was a flat wooden box.
"Here. And use this."
"What's this again?"
His mother, who received the wooden box, opened the top. Inside, neatly arranged and fixed spoons were revealed.
Seeing the silver spoons placed on a red cloth, his mother let out a gasp of admiration.
"Oh my! How can there be such shiny spoons?"
His mother asked while carefully lifting the spoon Channing had taken out, and the rest of the family also looked at the spoon in surprise.
The spoon was sparkling, reflecting the sunlight coming through the open window.
"Wow. It's a wonderful item. It looks like something a noble would use."
Channer exclaimed while looking at the spoon.
Charlie, sitting next to his mother, reached out and took the spoon. And she examined the spoon carefully.
"Is it silver?"
"No, it's iron. But it's iron that doesn't rust. It's the same material as the sickle."
"It seems like Channing joined a wizard's workshop. No one would have such a wonderful spoon, right?"
Charlie said while looking at her reflection in the shiny spoon, and Channing smiled awkwardly and scratched his head.
This time, his father took the spoon from Charlie's hand.
"A spoon made of iron... There used to be a brass spoon at the Callanone's house over the hill. There was only one in the house, so the father of the house used it. I envied it so much when I was young..."
"Do people in the city all use iron spoons like this?"
This time, Peller asked after hearing his father's story, and Channer answered.
"Enough. Let's just eat. Mom. Give out the spoons."
"It's such a waste to use them..."
His mother hesitated when Channing said that, and Channing forcibly distributed the spoons to his family.
Everyone held the iron spoons in their hands and looked at them for a long time. It was because it was the first time for the family, who had been used to making spoons by carving wood, to touch such a fine spoon.
"Thanks to the blacksmith's son, we're even using iron spoons. It feels like we've become nobles."
"Oh, come on. It's not a big deal, so don't act like that. Father, stop staring at it for so long. I'll bring more next time. Oh, and keep the rest and give them to the children when they're born."
Channing closed the wooden box his mother was holding, and his mother carefully took the wooden box and headed to the kitchen.
"By the way, Channing, why didn't you take yours? What are you going to eat with?"
Channer asked, and Channing shouted towards the kitchen.
"I'll just eat with anything. Mom. Bring me any spoon."
At Channing's shout, his mother brought a wooden spoon and handed it to him.
"Here you go. Let's eat then."
With his father's declaration, the meal began.
Channing was about to scoop the soup with the spoon without thinking, but he looked closely at the spoon. It was the spoon he used before leaving home, engraved with a familiar pattern on the handle.
Channing recognized it at a glance because it was the spoon his father carved for him when he was young and he used it for several years.
"What... Why did you keep this old spoon?"
Channing asked in surprise, and his mother hesitated and smiled, and Charlie answered instead with a laugh.
"Mom took such good care of it, saying she had to feed you whenever you came. She oiled it every day. She said you couldn't come home and not have a spoon to eat with."
"Uh..."
Channing couldn't say anything and stared blankly at his mother's face before dropping his gaze to the soup. And he scooped up the soup with the spoon without saying a word.
"It's delicious... Mom's soup."
"It's because the vegetables are delicious."
His father replied, and his mother smiled and pushed the bread basket towards Channing.
Channing continued to eat the slightly salty soup without saying a word.
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