“Whatever are you talking about?” Gen asked with a smile.
“Don’t jest with me. I’ve been friends with you long enough to know that when you two aren’t at class, you’re up to something."
Thomas and Gen had been friends four years. Thomas was a bit taller than Gen with tight, curly black hair and brown eyes. His hands were rough and calloused from the work he used to do before he came to the Schola. His father was a cobbler and he had worked in his father's shop. When he turned ten, his father told him he wanted a better life for him and paid for his education at the Schola. It was very hard for Thomas to leave him, but he didn't want to disappoint his father so he left without complaint. Gen's past was a mystery to him even though they were best friends. He knew that his father had been a merchant and he had spent most of his life in Nipangu. No matter how much he asked though, he could get very little information out of Gen about his time there. It was a sore spot with him and he soon learned not to ask.
"So, what were you doing?
"We were talking and lost track of time.”
“Come on. You’re the most punctual person I know. You weren’t sneaking around in the master’s library again were you?”
“No. We haven’t done that since....since then.” Gen’s expression grew somber at the memory.
“Then what were you doing?”
“Just what I told you.”
Seeing that it was futile to try to pry the information out of him, Thomas let the matter drop.
“You missed a great show today. We were working on that flame acceleration spell when Gabriel lost control of the spell and nearly burnt his hair off. It was hilarious!” Thomas thought he saw Gen flinch a bit at that. It puzzled him. Why did Gen hate fire spells so much? He rarely ever saw Gen even light candles with magic. He even carried a tinderbox. Thomas shook his head. Maybe he would ask him sometime, if he could ever get him to answer a question straight.
Thomas told Gen about all he had missed while Gen pretended he was listening. His thoughts, though, were back to Meeka. Remembering her soft, pale skin under his calloused hands and her soft touch on his back aroused so much passion inside him that he thought he would burst.
“Hello? Gen? Hey wake up,” Thomas had noticed that Gen was staring off into space.
“You know what? I think I really love her,” Gen said to no one in particular although the only one that heard him was Thomas.
Thomas looked into his friend’s eyes and saw a light of seriousness that seldom showed itself these days. Though, when it did, it usually meant he was telling the truth.
“What are you going to do about it?”
“Anything I can,” stated Gen still halfway between here and then.
“She’s a good one, Gen. You better get a good grip and hold on tight. I can’t think of anyone better for you than Meeka. You two are a perfect match.”
“Do you really think so?” Gen looked up at Thomas. His eyes were questioning. He looked vulnerable. Thomas felt uncomfortable. He had never seen Gen be vulnerable. He was confused for a moment until he decided that it was time for him to be strong for his friend.
“If I didn’t think so, I wouldn’t have said it. You two will be married and have half a dozen lil trouble makers running around!” Thomas had to laugh at that mental image. His laughter was infectious and soon Gen joined him.
“Will you be at class tomorrow?” Thomas asked, changing the subject from this path. “I had to practice sword play today with Nat. My arms are still sore.”
“I’ll try to make it, if only to save you from getting your head chopped off. How many times must I tell you to keep the blade angled so his blows glance off instead of breaking your wrist,” Gen scolded Thomas for the thousandth time about his sword play.
“Will you practice with me now? Until the next class I mean.”
If there was one good thing about Thomas, it was that he never gave up.
“Well, I guess I could use the exercise. Go ahead to the arena, and I’ll meet you there,” Gen said to his friend, who smiled and ran off nearly knocking over some novices in the process.
Gen turned and walked toward his room. A big hand blocked his way.
“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Aaron asked as he pushed Gen backward. Gen slid backwards with the shove but instead of hitting the table behind him and falling over as Aaron had planned, Gen deftly placed a hand upon the table top and half pounced half spun himself to a sitting position upon it.
“I was going to my room until you so rudely interrupted,” Gen replied smoothly, a defensive spell forming in his mind. The masters at the school didn't like violence between the students but they did not stop it when it happened either. It was an odd arrangement, but it kept the Schola from becoming a sort of safe haven and made it more like the real world.
Aaron had always been a hindrance to him. He was jealous of Gen for two reasons. One, Gen was smarter and had achieved his gray robe a full year before Aaron. Two, Meeka. Aaron liked her, and it infuriated him that she was so attracted to Gen and ignored Aaron’s presence.
“What for? To hide from me?” Aaron taunted.
“If you must know, to get my gear. I promised Thomas a little extra practice,” Gen said as he hopped down from the table.
“You know, I could use some practice myself. You would be a fine partner.” The challenge was clear. Aaron's eyes were filled with pure hatred.
“Fine, meet me there, the weapon is blades.” If Aaron wanted a duel, he’d get one. It was time he once again put him in his place.
Entering his room, Gen immediately undressed and started putting on his armor that went beneath his robes. Although it was made of leather, he strengthened it with patches of chain mail. Before leaving, he picked up his bokken, and then, after some thought, picked up his katana too. Slowly drawing the pure black blade loose from its scabbard, he checked it for flaws in the runes engraved along the blade. Staring into the onyx runes, his mind traveled back to the day he made it.
Firelight from the forge gleamed off of Gen's sweat covered chest. The ringing of the hammer on hot steel carried off deep into the night. His breath labored with the effort of smithing for the past two hours. His muscles felt as if they would burn through his skin, but he would not slow down now. He was almost finished. It had taken him four months of work and he was finally almost finished.
The master smith looked on with pride. The light of the forge barely lit his ebony skin. His white hair, stained gray from years of smoke and coal dust, was held back in a tight braid.
Gen covered the blade with the clay coating as the dark elf had shown him. He thrust the blade into the heat of the forge one final time. When it was glowing dimly, he pulled it out and carried it over to the quench tank. He noticed right before he thrust the blade into the water that the color of the sword matched the red of the master smith's eyes. With a hiss, steam rose up from the metal and he listened closely for sounds of imperfections in the blade as it cooled.
When he withdrew the katana, it was slightly curved. Gen took a piece of cloth and wiped it clean. He looked to the master smith then. The dark elf walked over and took the blade from him. He held it into the light and ran his fingers down the length of the blade. Gen prayed to the smithing gods that this blade would pass the master's inspections. The past eleven katanas Gen had forged had not met with the dark elf's high standards. Nodding slightly in approval, he placed the blade down on a workbench. Softly, he began chanting. The blade took on a dim red glow for a few seconds then went black. The dark elf picked it up once more and handed it to Gen.
"You have done a fine job. Take good care of it and it will take good care of you. Now go see Master Ambern to make the handle and scabbard."
Gen bowed low before the master smith and walked out quietly. He enjoyed the refreshing night air as he walked over to the archery range to find Master Ambern.
The arrow made a dull thud as it slid into the center of the glowing target. Another arrow quickly followed, sliding next to the first arrow. Three more followed, all of them filling the center bullseye.
"That is very good, Meeka," Master Ambern said.
"Thank you," Meeka replied as she withdrew her arrows from the target.
Gen stood in the deep shadows and watched as Meeka fired six more arrows. When she walked to withdraw those too, he clapped softly and walked into the light. Master Ambern nodded slightly at Gen as he walked forward.
"Oh Gen!" Meeka exclaimed. "I didn't know you were there." Gen could feel more than see the blush flash across her cheeks.
"You are getting very good with that long bow. A couple more years and you'll surpass even Master Ambern here," Gen said with a playful smile.
"Oh I doubt that very much, but she is coming along nicely. It's almost as if the bow were a part of her. She has enough raw talent. Now we just need to work on her stamina and hitting the moving targets."
Gen chuckled slightly. "The reason I am here is that I need your woodworking skills."
"Oh yes? Let me see that blade you have in your hand there."
Gen bowed slightly as he handed the onyx blade to Ambern.
"This is a very fine weapon. Did you just make it?"
"Yes. Thank you," Gen said, blushing slightly.
"Come with me. We'll get you a scabbard and handle made tonight. Meeka, keep practicing till you can't pull back the string on that bow. Then come inside for some tea."
"Yes, Master Ambern," both students said.
Gen winked at Meeka as he followed Master Ambern into his shop.
The inside of Master Ambern's shop was cozy. A small fire blazed away in the fireplace. A worktable sat in the middle of the room and had several lamps set above it to provide ample light. Ambern walked over and cleared off the table, then turned to Gen.
"Place the blade upon the table. I'll be right back. I know of someone that may be able to help us on this." He then walked out the door. Gen walked over and set the blade down upon the table. Though well lit with many candles, the light shining down on the table seemed to shy away from the dark blade. Gen walked over and filled the teapot with water and set it over the fire. He sat by the fire and lost himself in the flames. A sound awoke him and he turned to see Master Ambern walk back into the shop. He smiled then suddenly glimpsed a dark shape out of the corner of his eye. He started and turned his head that way. The shape stepped closer to the light and he saw that it was his Master Shingami. Gen stood up quickly and bowed low. Shingami returned the bow, then walked over to the table. He picked up Gen's blade and balanced it upon his finger.
"Not too bad," Shingami said softly. His words heavily accented.
"Thank you, Master," Gen replied in the language of Nipangu.
"How long did it take you to make this?" Shingami asked as he set the blade back down carefully upon the table.
"Four months, Master."
"Not long. I believe you could have done better, but this should do for now."
"Thank you, Master," Gen replied once more.
"Ambern says you need help in making a handle and scabbard. How much do you know of this process?"
"I have seen the process when I was very young, as you know, Master"
"And have you decided upon the wood to use and what style of handle?"
"I have, Master. I believe a dark, red mahogany would look well for the scabbard. I planned on enchanting it to give it more strength."
"I agree. I will go get some ray-skin and the cording for the handle. Please show Ambern how to construct the slats for the scabbard." With that said Shingami vanished.
"Gods is he ever creepy!" Master Ambern said.
"He is very good at what he does," Gen replied respectfully, switching back to the common tongue.
"How much time did you spend in Nipangu?"
"I spent seven years there, Master."
"Your Nipanguian is very good, though hard for me to follow. I find the language difficult to pick up."
"Thank you, Master. Language is oft best learned through immersion in its place of origin."
"I never hear you speak of those times, Gen. Was it that bad?"
"I would rather not think about it, Master."
"Very well. Come over here and teach me then," Master Ambern said with a chuckle, though his eyes held a sadness. What had Gen gone through there? Why did his manner change from cocky and joking to serious and servile when Shingami was around? Perhaps he would speak to the elder about it later.
Master Shingami reappeared with the aforementioned materials and they began to work. An hour passed and Meeka entered. She started when she saw Master Shingami there but quickly hid the fact and bowed deeply.
"Master, I did not know you were here."
"It is okay, Meeka. I did not let you know I was here. Please make us some tea while you wait." Master Shingami didn't even turn to face her as he replied. Meeka walked over and fixed the tea. She was a bit nervous and put in a bit much. Her hands shook slightly as she poured the four glasses and carried it over to the work table. She served Master Shingami first and then Master Ambern and lastly Gen and herself. The masters and Gen stopped working and sat down to enjoy the tea. Master Shingami sipped his and nodded to Meeka.