"Finish refitting those horseshoes, boy! The Lord's men need them done in the next five hours!"
Darian stared at the man, flabbergasted. "Five hours? The hell... I have to make more shoes and fit them alone? You can't really expect me to—"
The larger man scoffed and slapped him on the back of the head. "Well, do it anyway. And make sure no one sees your face. No one wants to see that ugly mug."
"Whatever, man. It's impossible, but I'll get as many done as I can. And if I finish it, you're giving me a bonus."
The taller man ruffled Darian's hair and walked off, laughing. "That's the spirit. Get it done, Darian."
Darian walked into the forge and immediately set to work on the horseshoes. He needed twenty more—there was a shortage of premade ones. I'll have to make each shoe in fifteen minutes to even hope to reach this deadline.
He managed to get the bulk of the shoes done in a few hours and started fitting the horses. That's when he heard footsteps behind him. "Hey, boss, looks like I'm getting that bonus after all. Better get your wallet ready."
But to Darian's surprise, a female voice replied, "I'm sorry, I'm not your boss, but I am rather lost."
Immediately, Darian pulled his hood over his head and tugged the hem of his shirt over the bottom of his face.
"How lost do you have to be to end up at the forge?"
The girl gave him a strange look, then smiled mischievously. "Well, I wouldn't exactly say lost, but I was just so curious about who was hammering away in here."
Darian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, now you know. Could you please leave? I have work to do."
The girl stepped closer with a smirk. "Why are you covering your face? Are you shy?"
Darian let out another sigh and dropped his shirt from his face. The girl recoiled, a disgusted look on her face.
"Why do you look like... that?"
Darian just shook his head and returned to shoeing the horses, chuckling as he worked. "My mom was eccentric, fell in love with an orc of all things, and now here I am. Unfortunately, she died when I was a kid, and I have no clue where my dad is."
The girl laughed lightly. "What an interesting family tree!"
"Now I have work to do, so could you please leave? I'm not really supposed to let people see me, especially not rich young ladies."
The girl let out a small gasp. "So, you knew? Was it that obvious?"
"Of course it was. People around here don't talk like you do, and I saw you when you got here."
"Ah well, that makes much more sense."
The girl hesitated for a moment, eyeing Darian with curiosity, but then gave a soft nod. "I'll leave you to it, then." She turned, walking toward the exit with a final glance over her shoulder before disappearing from sight.
Darian sighed in relief and returned to his work, the rhythmic pounding of the hammer echoing through the forge. He refitted the last of the horseshoes, each strike marking the passing hours. As the final shoe was secured, Darian wiped the sweat from his brow and looked over his work. It was done. But the satisfaction was short-lived.
His boss stormed into the forge, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. "What took you so long, boy? This should've been finished hours ago!"
Darian's blood began to boil, but he held his ground. "I did the best I could. But you're always pushing me too hard, expecting more than I can give. I'm not some machine."
The boss sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. "You're lucky to have this job, Darian. Don't forget where you came from."
That was it. The last straw. Darian stood tall, his jaw clenched in anger. "You know what? I'm done. I've had enough of being treated like this."
His boss raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm quitting," Darian said firmly. "I don't need this anymore. I've got my own goals to chase."
Without waiting for a response, Darian grabbed his things, walking past his boss with a sense of finality. He wasn't going to let anyone hold him back anymore.
He stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the crisp air. The weight that had been pressing on him for so long felt lighter as he looked toward the horizon, where the nearby city lay. It was time to start fresh, to carve his own path and finally work toward the life he'd always dreamed of.
With determination in his eyes, Darian set off toward the city, ready to forge his own future.
As he walked, doubt began to creep in, and he immediately started to regret storming off. "Hmm... I can't fight, and I have no real money, just my meager savings." He sat down in the middle of the road, letting out a heavy sigh. "Well, there's not much I can do about it now."
Darian sat there for a moment, lost in thought, but soon shook his head, clearing the self-pity from his mind. No time for that. I've made my choice. No turning back now. He stood up, brushing the dirt off his clothes, and took a deep breath.
"I'll figure it out," he muttered to himself. "If I can forge horseshoes, I can make something more." The city had opportunities—people to meet, work to find, and skills to hone. He wasn't going to waste his chance because of a little doubt.
Darian straightened his back, determination settling into his bones. He didn't need much—just a bit of cleverness and a lot of work. His savings would get him by for now, but it wouldn't last forever. The city was full of possibilities, and he'd find a way to earn. Maybe he'd work in a shop, maybe start his own forge one day—either way, he wasn't going to let his past hold him back.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Darian set his gaze forward. He didn't know exactly what the future held, but he was done second-guessing himself. The road ahead wasn't going to be easy, but that was the price of carving his own path.
He took his first step toward the city, and then another, leaving behind the forge, the boss, and the life he'd known. Whatever came next, he was ready.