The not-immortal Blacksmith

The Celestial Realm

Mr. Clucks, the small god of Poultry, sat in the fenced Farmyard, and looked at the collection of the other small gods of animals. “Alright, what do we know about that damn cat?”

Squeal, the small god of Rats, piped up, “He acts like any other cat. Hunts mercilessly. Plays with his food. Trips people. Chases whatever he likes, then falls over to lick himself.”

“Any other observations?” Mr. Clucks asked.

Ms. Fluffles, the small god of Rabbits, perked up her ears, “It is my opinion that he is just a normal housecat that somehow ascended to being a god.”

Ralph, the small god of “good Boys”, wagged his tails, “I believe he will be fun to chase, and play with!” Then he stopped his tails, and became more serious, “Because he IS a normal housecat. “We” listened to the masters, and followed his trail.”

“Ralph?” Peonie, the small god of nut-hatches, cocked an eye, “You can be serious?”

“I’m not just a good boy. I am also a god.” Ralph replied. “El Gato, self-proclaimed “god of all he surveys” is just a jumped-up house cat. He came from the other world, through a portal someone left open.” He looked at a clump of the other gods watching a scrying stone near the center of town, before continuing in a lecturing tone. “He came across Mouse and Dove, ate them, and drank from the Holy Fountain. That is how he became an actual god, not the god all cats see themselves as.”

“Alright.” Mr. Clucks said, scratching at the ground for a bug, “What do we do about him?”

“We could eat him back.” Fennis, the wolf god, replied, walking up to the assembled group.

“Fennis, you are not welcome in The Farmyard.” Mr. Clucks said. He tried to keep his voice steady, while eyeing the beast.

“I have less interest for you lot than I do in that blasted cat.” Fennis said. “I would not risk my hide in The Goat’s farm otherwise.”

“Then what would you suggest?” Ralph growled, tails low and hackles half raised.

“There is no need for that today, Cousin.” Fennis shook his head. “I suggest a Hunt. Not just of the wild, but of all of us, no matter how big or small we be.”

Mr. Clucks threw back his head and crowed. “An excellent idea!” He looked around the gathering again. “All in favor?” All but one raised a claw/wing/hoof/or other appendage.

“Opposed?” Mr. Clucks asked. Only Ralph raised a paw.

Peonie looked at ralph, “It’s been over a thousand years, Ralph. You need to let it go, just this once!”

“One thousand years, three months, eighteen days, three hours, and forty-three minutes.” Ralph snarled. “She was to be my mate!”

“And you never marked her!” Fennis responded. “I have apologized over a hundred times! I’m sorry!”

“…fine. Just this once.” Ralph sighed.

Planning began…

-

Meanwhile, from the back door of the barn, Ghondish, the small god of eating stuff, laughed quietly. “This. This I might watch. They have NO idea what they are about to unleash on themselves. There was a Reason We left cats out of the pantheon.” He walked back to the basement to finish planning the next adventure of Humans and Highrises. “Hmm… Maybe a union strike?”

*-*-*

Wildreach, Sorina Province, Kingdom of Garthia.

6th of Amsiel, Second month of Summer.

2290Years since the New gods came.

It has been a while since I’ve written in this journal. The truth be told, I was half tempted to just throw the damn thing out and burn it. Bad dreams haunt me still. Sometimes they run together, mixing my new friends with the old. I miss them all very much.

Brianna and I decided to return to my old home, and visit my family. We will arrive tomorrow. As always, I have my misgivings about returning ‘Home’. The loss of my wife first wife permeates the place. We will see what transpires.

7th of Amsiel,

Everything went surprisingly well. The cat was missing, but his progeny are all over the place. The tree in the front is growing nicely; I have concerns that it is more than just a living thing, but that is something for a later time.

Marcus is the newest head of the family, and he tells me that the business is growing. He had some concerns about the recipe for steel that I gave out at that college presentation. I told him that if the family hasn’t come up with a better one, then they should be ashamed of themselves. The recipe is…six hundred years old? He scampered off at that point. Either to cry or to start some new research. Maybe if he read some of my old shop notes, he would find some better alloys to make.

The kids are a joy to see. They all call me Grandpa, and Bri Gran. Brandywine has various names from the adults, but the kids call her the “Sparkly Princess”. She loves it.

8th of Amsiel,

Had another conversation with Marcus today, after dinner. Progress seems to have been made.

Tomorrow I am opening up my forge and putting hammer to metal again.

-

“Grand Master?” one of the young apprentices approached Max, “The Forge Master wishes for you to join him the study, if you would? Please?”

Max smiled at the young woman, “Of course, apprentice?”

“Apprentice Mayble, Grand Master.” She hesitantly replied.

Eyes twinkling, Max replied, “Well then Mayble, call me Max, and lead the way.”

The study was the same, oversized chairs, large beefy shelves, books and papers strewn all over the place, high ceiling, swords and bows all over (mostly being used as paperweights). Max sat in his favorite chair, and waited for Marcus to speak.

“Progenitor Maxwell, I apologize for my earlier rudeness. You are correct. We have failed to keep up the family legacy of constant improvement.” Marcus hung his head. “Please forgive us.”

“Meh.” Max smiled. “Everyone has their off years. I haven’t done much smithing since I came back, so don’t worry about it.”

“You…You don’t mind?” Marcus raised his head and stared.

“Oh, I mind. I mind quite a bit.” Max took a breath, and let it out slowly. “But with fighting a religious war, finding out that I have a religious sect, and getting married? I haven’t had the time to put hammer to metal.”

Marcus’ eyes glazed over. Once he recovered, he spoke, “About us failing to improve. You aren’t upset by that?”

“I’m not upset.” Max replied. “I’m just disappointed.”

-

9th of Amsiel,

Oh, how I have missed my forge. Had to clean it out a bit, and it smelled a bit like cat pee. They use it on a yearly basis for the journeyman test6 to become a master. But they only use it for the last item of their test. For some reason.

They are using one of my original swords to measure skill levels against. And a kettle. And a spear. And a chain shirt that I didn’t make, but bought because I liked the design…I’m not telling them.

I made a dagger today. Tomorrow it will be a pot, then onwards and upwards until I “Graduate” the program. Brandy will be judging me, that way there will be no nepotism getting in the way.

The dagger passed by flying colors. Don’t know why it came out “Holy”.

10th of Amsiel,

Kettle and spear head done today. Both passed. Even if I didn’t quite like the spout on the kettle. I will fix it tomorrow before I make the frying pan.

Bri is settling in nicely with the ladyfolk. The keep looking at me as I work and giggling amongst themselves. Usually, Brandy is in and amongst them. Stupid fairy PIXIE!!!, stirring up trouble.

17th of Amsiel,

It has been a bit more than a week since we arrived, and I haven’t felt this stress free since the farmstead. The work seems to help with the dreams too. None of the Idiots have showed up; this makes me happy.

All of the household goods and weapons have been made, and passed the tests. Tomorrow starts the second part of the test: fixing broken items!

18th of Amsiel,

They didn’t tell me that the items I would be fixing were the ones I made. They have found a problem with the testing though; they have been unable to break the items.

I have decided to have Mayble make items for the test for me. She is an average student of average skill. Her work should make a fine test bed for my skills.

-

Mayble screamed into her pillow in the apprentice dorms. “I can’t believe he asked ME!” She sat up and took a deep breath. “Alicia? What do I do? If I give him some piece of rubbish, he’s going to be angry!”

“You’re the one on a first name basis with the Grand Master, not me.” Alicia replied.

“It’s just so unfair!” Mayble whimpered. “How could he put me in such a spot?”

Alicia contemplated things for a few moments, “Maybe ask him to choose someone else?”

“I can’t do that!” Mayble almost yelled, “What will Forge Master Marcus say? I might be thrown out on my ear!”