A Short Story Set in a Mythical Nordic Medieval World.
Glossary of Terms and Characters
- Völvur: a shamanic order of women capable of foresight and communing with the otherworld.
- Jötunn: god-like elemental forces of nature from the mountains, forests and wilds of the tundra. (Giants.)
- Gobban: a Norseman, a smith and master craftsman of weapons.
- Kalda: servant of Skadi, an ice sprite.
- Skadi: winter goddess of jötunnic origins.
- Seiomenn: men who practice conjuring magics.
- Greta: the queen’s seeress.
- Alfar: fairies, elves.
Part 4 “Songs of the Winter Forge”
Frigid air rushed into the room as Kalda stopped speaking. She turned to face the smith and his subdued forge. She furrowed her brows with concern, biting her lower lip. Gobban felt the display of emotion made the winter fairy appear more human. He instantly longed to comfort the sprite, reassuring her no great harm had been done by her magic. As he stared, he wondered what made the fey folk so different and yet similar to humans.
“I did not realize, Gobban. I am sorry. I only sought to help.”
“Do not worry. I am hale and hearty. It will take only a little effort to recover the necessary heat to continue forging.”
Gobban walked to the furnace and stirred the embers. Adding more coal, he began to work at the bellows again and sing his enchantments to the fire.
“Wood, coal, peat, and pitch.
Awaken, ignite, erupt and blaze.
Work have I, metal to shape.
Heed my voice. Raise the heat.
Ore is hard, brittle, and dense.
Coal is hot, eager to burn.
Heed my voice. Raise the heat.
Relax, soften, pliable be.
Hammer, anvil will transform.
Work have I, metal to shape.
Heed my voice. Raise the heat.
Offerings from the four winds I make.
Breathe deep, leap up….”
Gobban abruptly stopped chanting, letting out a triumphant shout.
“Kalda! How foolish of me. I know exactly how you can aid my efforts!”
“How?”
“We’ve had it backward! We don’t want to remove the air; we want more of it!”
The ice sprite peered intensely at Gobban, her sapphire blue eyes burning bright.
“I do not understand. The cold, chill, winter air will assist in intensifying the fire?”
“Fire is alive, Kalda. It dies without air. It breathes like a living thing. The more air it consumes, the greater its heat. Speak with the wintery winds. Convince them to fan the flames in the forge. Surely, that will muster the heat I and my song can not.”
Kalda looked perplexed.
“You need the air to go into the fires?”
“Yes.”
“But, the winter winds are frigid. They are fierce and mean. They will try to destroy you and your fire. Even humans extinguish a candle with their breath.”
“That is true. But, this fire will not go out. The gusts will only make it grow.”
“Won’t you be burnt?”
“I may singe hair and scorch my hide, but gods willing, the runes I wear will prevent any lasting harm. And every smith has to concern himself with a fire out of control at one time or another. One of the first smithing songs I learned was a tune of taming. The flames will obey me. They will not leave the furnace. I will demand they remain content with their fuel and promise to keep them ever well-fed.”
Kalda nodded with a smirk and a glint in her eyes.
“I will call upon the winter wind. It will come. Like your flames, it obeys me.”
Gobban spirits soared, feeling this strange, new connection to Kalda. His hopes for crafting a weapon capable of slaying the beast rose. He resolved going forward to have more respect for the völvur. Not since boyhood had he observed the effects of their guidance directly. As an adult, Gobban often downplayed the importance of fate, declaring he was master of his own destiny.
“Right! Let’s work with all haste.” Gobban said.
Kalda’s voice rose with her song again. Gesturing, she beckoned the wintery elements in. The incoming air whipped about her. The ice sprite’s protective shell of magic guttered like a candle in the wind. Bits of snow, sleet, and ice hissed, violently evaporating into angry wisps of moisture as they were pulled toward the heat. Within the furnace, Goabban watched the coals flare up with a burst of flames. There was no need to pump the bellows.
“It’s working!” the smith called out.
Gobban uttered his chants, monitoring the rapid change in the steel. It already was the familiar golden, yellow glow. Gobban observed blue flames develop, indicating the fire was growing hotter. His thoughts drifted to the tales of the devilish monster melting raw stone. He wondered exactly how hot the beast’s fire raged. He needed to forge his steel with a temperature even more intense. But, Gobban suspected the metal would then be too soft to work. Nevertheless, he knew he had to try.
“The forge needs to burn hotter!” he bellowed.
“I will not hold back then,” Kalda said.
A maelstrom of wintry precipitation raged within the smithy. The stone floor was slick and damp. Kalda strained to usher more air in against a steadily building resistance. Holding the winds inside was like keeping an upturned bucket full of air underwater.
“It would be best to open the opposite window. It will provide a path for the currents to exit. This will generate better airflow!” Kalda cried out.
Gobban perceived the ice sprite’s growing struggle. Only a thin layer of the protective magic encircling her was discernible.
“It’s becoming too hot for you!” he said.
He was becoming acutely aware the same was true for him. A terrible thirst wracked his throat, his lips felt cracked, and his exposed skin was blistering.
“I won’t give up! If we can vent this torrid air through another window, I can draw in more wind to fan the forge fires without it circling back upon myself.”
Gobban ran to the shuttered window on the far wall and flung it open. A gust of escaping air buffeted him about as it rushed out.
“It is done! Is it helping?”
“Yes!”
Gobban shielded his eyes from the brilliant light from the coals as he returned to his forge. He beheld within the inferno the blazing white-hot steel. It threatened to bend as he pulled it from the furnace. He hastily draped the steel bar across the anvil. Carefully modulating the intensity of his swing, Gobban let his hammer fall. The metal over responded to the blow.
“Blast! It’s too soft!” he yelled.
“Wait, let me help. I comprehend now what you are endeavoring to accomplish.”
Before the smith could respond, he felt the icy stab of a focused current of frigid air strike him. Glancing down quickly to his anvil, he saw the metal’s light dim. Gobban hammered again. The steel pushed back with tenacity while yielding favorably to the smith’s demands.
“Well done, Kalda! The metal remains hotter and softer internally. Yet, somehow, this gentle cooling has returned just enough external integrity allowing me to continue to shape it.”
“Good. I greatly desire to observe the final result of our efforts.”
Gobban hazarded a quick glance toward Kalda. His heart leaped upon seeing an intense smile upon her face.
“Yes, I too am eager to learn more of the unique nature this blade will possess.”
Both labored tirelessly in such a fashion. Kalda alternately kept the furnace flames ready and hot while bathing the sword Gobban worked with subtle jets of cool air. The smith could hammer and shape for longer intervals of time and waited less for the metal to return to optimal temperature when reheated.
“I will now draw the blade out.”
Gobban returned the steel briefly to the forge. Returning the sword to his anvil, he furiously attacked it with a shower of blows. Each strike fell diagonally at an angle to the length of the blade. Before long, Kalda could see the steel was noticeably thinner and had doubled its reach.
“You have pulled the metal out to a great extent, Gobban. Will the blade not be too weak if stretched so far?” Kalda asked.
“That would be the case with lesser steel, but adamantium steel is exceedingly strong. We are fortunate to be working with such a quantity of the highest quality material.”
“Will it be what humans call a longsword?”
“I intend to expand the reach of this weapon even further. The fiery beast radiates scorching flames far beyond its body. I hope to provide this sword’s wielder with the ability to strike from the furthest possible distance.”
“It will be a great sword indeed then.”
“It will be nearly a foot longer than a longsword. This shall be a great claymore blade!”
Coming Next: (Part 5 of 7) “Force of Nature”
Mythos Creative Writing 