Alexander Canis

Alexander steadily breathes as he swings his ax at the large tree, the bark splitting as the bit of the blade meets it with a mighty thunk. The muscles in his arms ache as his core burns and the afternoon sun that beats down harshly at him is not helping, making his light bronze skin almost glow with sweat.

He is a tall boy, always has been, standing just a couple notches below six feet. His years as a lumberman have strengthened his body, making his arms large, his shoulders wide, his core hard, and his calves strong. His copper eyes narrow with effort and his curly coal black hair that rests at the nape of his neck turning limp from the oppressive heat. 

The day passes slowly, as it always does. His mind slowly drifts, the act of swinging his ax is second nature to him now and he wonders what the wood will be used for.

Something important, it always used for something important; maybe it will be used 

to build furniture or tools, it could be used to create musical instruments or to construct more buildings. 

What he does is important.

He is important.

Maybe not as important as an Errant but… He.Is.Important.

Right?

.

.

. 

Right.

Alexander grips the ax tighter, his fingers blistering red with anger as he strikes the timber husk. He is almost halfway done when he hears an almost silent crack.

Pausing his work, he looks down at his tool and frowns. 

The ax was ancient and looked like it. The handle, which was as long as his leg, was an ash brown, darker, almost black, at where the wood met the head and at the shoulder is a fissure, barely noticeable. The head was rectangular and large with the bit flaring out and rounded, the cheeks bubbling as if it was flesh boiling.

He needed to get it repaired before it got any worse.

Sighing, he drops to his butt and takes a deep breath as he wipes the sweat from his forehead with his forearm, "Damn it."  Alexander licks his dry lips and stands back up, he sleeves the tool on his holster belt.

He turns away from the tree and travels back towards his village; Canis.

The path he takes isn't a long one though he does take the time to enjoy the surrounding nature. The supremely tall trees that almost seem to reach the sky, the bright green grass tickling his ankles as he strolls through, and the sound of rushing water from a nearby river.

Alexander closes his eyes as he travels and takes a deep breath enjoying the aroma of his surroundings; the earthly moss that is so far from sweet yet still so very much enjoyable.

Eventually he reaches Canis. A small village, smaller than most with barely three hundred residents.

The buildings were small, almost all of them were one story, he only spotted two or three being two stories. All of them beautifully simple.

The people more so.

"Hello, Alexander." 

"Heyha doing, Boyo!"

"Lumberman! How wonderful it is to see you!" 

Several people warmly greeted him and he returned them with an easy grin. 

"Oh dear child, you're sweating like a dog." An elderly woman approaches him with a worried frown, one palm resting on his forehead and another on his cheek.

She stood almost a foot shorter than him, her hair silver and her eyes an almost milky blue from age.

Alexander huffs a laugh and takes a hold of her wrinkly hands, "I'm fine, Amanda, I swear."

Amanda smacks her lips in irritation, "Oh hush you bullheaded thing. Let me cool you down." She removes her left hand from her forehead and places it on his chest. "Fervor Refriitu." 

A dim bronze light surrounds her body, the very air vibrating with power before a chill runs down his body before settling into a comfortable lull of cold.

 "Thank you."

"You're very welcome Alexander." She pats his chest, "Now I usually only see you in the morning, what brings you back so soon?"

"Hm, my ax needs some maintenance." He pulls his ax out and shows her the crack, a grimace of pins and needles flashing across his face.

"Ah, so you're going to Franklin then. Well though your journey is short I hope it treats you well."

Laughing, "As do I." He gives a wave in goodbye and walks to Franklin's, the blacksmith's shop. He greets a few more people before reaching the door.

He gives a strong knock and waits. A few moments later he hears a hearty voice telling him to enter.

The store is, in a word, homely. Though maybe that should be expected as it is the man's home. Standing behind a counter is a man around Amanda's age though standing taller and stronger, the passage of time favoring him.

Giving a smile, Alexander greets him with an apology and a request, "Franklin, sorry to bother you but I need some help."

Franklin was a tall man, a good deal taller than Alexander with harsh steel eyes and paling brown hair.

"And here I thought you were just visiting me for shit and giggles, boyo." He draws out, his voice filled with good hearted mockery. "Now I assume it has something to do with your ax?"

Alexander hums in acknowledgement.

"Well then show me!" Franklin waves a hand over, the other walks forward and places his tool in front of the man.

His eyes roam every inch of it, his strong fingers creasing the blade like it's his lover. "I remember crafting this ax, I wasn't much older than you when I did. I'm surprised it lasted as long as it did, your grandpappy took great care of it."

"Thank you." 

The man scoffs, "I wasn't complimenting you, I have no need for your thanks."

Alexander rolls his eyes, "Yes but grandpa can't really give you his gratitude, now can he?"

Franklin gruffs, it's an ugly thing, "I suppose not." He shakes his head. "The shoulder is splintered and the wound runs deep, one good swing and the head would have flung right off. The bit is chipped and dull, the toe along with the heel are more like nubs, there is also some slight rusting where the head meets the handle. It wouldn't take much to reforge but it'll never be the same as it was, it'll last another year, maybe two. More trouble than it's worth, I'll forge you a new one."

Alexander bites his lip, he looks at the tool, his eyes shining and sighs, he looks imploring at the blacksmith, "I can't." 

Franklin stares dully, almost uncaringly. Alexander shifts, looking off to the side.

"That's all I have left of him." He mutters like glass, fragile with the slightest pressure likely to break it, "I won't let it go."

Franklin breathes hashly and closes his eyes, "Fine then I'll reforge it."

The boy's eyes widen and a smile splits his face, "Thank you Franklin, you have–"

The man raises a hand to stop him, "Enough of the blabbering boyo I'm not doing this for free, you will of course do something for me in return." 

"Anything." His face is unguarded and willing.

Franklin hums, "My stock on iron ores is running low and frankly I'm a lazy son of a bitch, so I want you to extract them for me."

Alexander gives a nod, "Sounds good to me."

"Okay." Franklin gives a nod of his own. He crouches down, out of view of the other and periodically stands back up laying down a number of tools. Using the tools he removes the head of the ax from the handle before grabbing the top, "Fervor Cusabtus." A cloak of orange surrounds the man, so much brighter than Amanda's, with the area around his hands being thicker before it flickers off. "Fervor Conintus." The cloak returns for a second time as the head of the ax turns a boiling red, it slowly loses its shape, becoming a puddle.

Alexander's sparkling eyes drink in the action, his mouth can't help but mimic the words. He loves watching the Ardor Flair at work.

"Detritus Figinma." The orange cloak reforms though much less intense than the previous two times, sweat drips from the man's brow and his breath comes out short. The puddle takes a familiar form, though much softer, like a good poke would distort it, "Suffuse Demitu." For a fourth time Franklin's cloak returns though severely diminished, barely seen if one didn't know to look.

His skin becomes pale and his hands seem a tad less steady, though his face is stone as always. Droplets of water start to form around the head, first slowly one by one then two by two before a giant bubble of water encompasses it, steam pouring off and the angry glow dulling.

Franklin breathes out hashly as the bubble of water disperses back into the air, he sets down the head, "That never gets easier." 

Alexander holds in a chuckle though the man seems to know his amusement as he throws his right fist up and palms the bicep with his other.

"You want to do this?" Franklin spits out, "Oh right, you can't."

Alexander holds his hands up and takes a step back, "Sorry, sorry." 

The man rolls his eyes and takes a deep calming breath and then another, he walks away from the counter into the back room, he takes several moments before coming back out with a chuck of wood, "Look familiar?"

The other huffs humorlessly. 

Franklin plants the wood on the counter and places his palms against, "Detritus Compin." A pulse of weak light shutters and the timber trembles as the air around it wavers as if reality itself seems confused on what's happening. The chuck folds into itself, its size cut in half. "Detritus Compin." He repeats and the size is reduced by half again. "Detritus Compin." 

The log is now about the width of his ax's old handle.

The man hangs his head and closes his eyes as he places his palms against the counter, a shiver running through him, "You better be grateful boyo, so very grateful."

"I am, incredibly."

Franklin grumbles before standing straight, "I got one more in me before my belly empties."

"I believe in you."

"Shut your fat mouth."

The man palms the wood again, steadies his heart and utters his final lure, "Detritus Muadmus." The chuck morphs into a proper handle, the rough bark becoming smooth like steel. Franklin groans like an old tree moments after falling, gathering himself; he takes the ax's head and hammers it onto the handle before filling the eye, "Done."

Alexander walks forward with an asking look, getting a look of permission he takes a hold of the tool, "It feels-" He practices a swing and then another, the tool moving through the air much slower than he's used too, "heavier."

"Of course it does, I used a Detritus lure to compress the log of wood, making it much more sturdy and much heavier. It's a lure I learned only after I forged your ax the first time."

Alexander gives a nod, "It's great."

Franklin waves him off like a fly, "Yes, yes." He crouches down and seems to be searching for something, as he stands back up he places three items on the counter; a leather brown pouch, a silver ring with strange symbols around it and a blue diamond-shape gem embedded in the middle, and a roll of parchment.

Grabbing the parchment he hands it to the boy, "That is a map leading you to the mining cave I use to extract Iron ores," As Alexander reads the map, Franklin grabs the ring. "This is a Ardor Token, costs a pretty copper but it allows for an easier time locating iron as the gem will glow when it's close to it." He hands the band and the boy who takes it, looking it over, he points it at his ax and watches the gem glow a brilliant blue.

"Finally this," Franklin holds up the pouch, "is an Endless Pouch or well… a twenty ores deep pouch. It's another token, popular amongst merchants and with which you can carry some serious weight without feeling anything and keep your hands free." 

Tossing it over, the boy looks at the bag with disbelief.

"Amazing..."

"Yes, yes it is. Now get. Get!" He points to the door of his shop, "Don't keep me waiting forever boyo or my foot will go so far up–"

Alexander holds up a palm, "Alright, alright i'm going." He almost runs out but before he does Franklin hollers.

"May your journey be short and treat you well!"

Smiling, he gives a wave, "It is my hope as well, thank you, my old friend."

"Ay! Who are you calling old!" 

Laughing, he steps out of the shop and towards his quest.