The Four

Starling

139 years later:

Starling stretched her tall, broad frame to remove the kinks she’d developed over the last several hours. She was finished with her masterpiece at last!

She grinned as she examined the long sword that she had spent the last week honing to perfection. It was a beauty, it was, and more than fulfilled the terms of the new owner’s contract.

Setting the blade into hooks on the wall she removed her large fire proof apron and began the turn to go inside her hut and change her sweat soaked clothes.

Movement outside of her forge stopped her. Over 600 years in this world had taught her to pay attention. She heard the noise again and readied herself both mentally and physically. She widened her stance, loosened her muscles, mentally listed all of the exits as well as weapons that could be used to her advantage.

A small brown head popped into view around the corner of her door. Kalick… she thought with a sigh. Some day that boy would regret his games, and not in a good way if it was with her.

His smile said ‘ha I got you again!’ just before he darted back out of sight. Starling looked at where the boy had been and shook her head. His constant need to scare others, or pop into existence right where he should not be, was going to get him into trouble but she wanted no part in it.

Turning she entered her home and began to divest herself of her clothing. Her newest dirty outfit joined its brethren on the floor of her not so clean cottage and she grunted to herself. Suppose its time to pay Marlene to clean up in here again.

Starling was not the neatest of people when it came to her abode, but her forge was immaculate. So much of her time went into her smithing that she just didn’t have any for aught else.

Even now her thoughts were on her newest blade, getting it delivered and getting paid so that she could move on to her next project. Not all of them were as great as the sword she’d just completed of course. This was a village after all, she had to make nails, horseshoes, bindings for barrels, and loads of other things that took no imagination and only a little skill. But the weapons! Oh, how she loved to make the weapons.

Some in the village called her too manly, said that she was too tall and broad to be a woman, and how dare she take a mans job like blacksmith. She didn’t care, she had her work and they always gave her plenty of it. There wasn’t another blacksmith for fifty miles in any direction, and none with her talents for at least a hundred.

She sighed as thoughts of her old friends intruded upon her peace of mind. She tried to shake them off, but they kept themselves on the edge of her thoughts as she quickly sluiced herself down, dried, and put on clean-ish clothes. Grabbing her belt, she wrapped it around herself and began attaching her sword to the side of it, another noise. She sighed and thought, I am going to wring that boys neck!

Stepping out into her forge she wasn’t met with the sight of Kalick the trickster though. No, this was a different beast all together. She looked at Kalick, at the vacant expression on his face, the whites of his eyes doing their best to take over all color, a breath, and then he collapsed.