A Fool's Goddess - Chapter Sixteen
As promised, the smith arrived early the next day. Once again, I was awakened by someone hammering on my door, though I was much happier when I saw it wasn’t Hed.
The smith was a massive man with an incredibly friendly disposition. Despite the thick gut around his torso, his arms were rippling with muscle, and he stood at least a couple heads taller than me. In fact, he had to duck to get through the front door of my house. And unlike me, he actually looked like his age of forty years, though he had all the energy of a man half his age. He nearly crushed my hand when we shook.
I was prepared to step out of the building while he worked, but the smith instead seemed inclined to talk while he worked. While his eyes were busy looking over the over, his mouth spoke of how he had worked on everything ranging from private stoves to commercial furnaces. In fact, he talked so much, I began to wonder if he would even notice if I walked away. However, I ended up just standing around and nodding while the smith continued his inspection.
Luckily, his diagnosis was optimistic. He’d need plenty of stone and cement, but he felt confident he could remake the oven into a kiln. In response, I offered to provide those materials myself. Gathering them was pretty simple anyways, and it would be even easier when I dragged my new helper along.
The smith eagerly accepted the offer. Getting the materials for him would speed things up considerably as he could then focus on drawing up plans instead of gathering supplies. The only other thing he would have needed was a metal hatch, but he had the foresight to bring one from his shop.
With everything set, now all I needed to know was the cost. I asked for an estimate, being sure to remind the smith to factor in how I would be providing stone, cement, and some of the labor.
He just looked at me like I was weird before saying the job was free.
I stood there blankly. Now, although I wasn’t against getting it done pro bono, my stunned mind stupidly asked why. Considering my only other experience with the local economy was Tresety’s mayor inflating my debt over every breath I took, the thought of anything being free felt more like a trap than a blessing.
The smith then dotingly explained that this was a favor for his girlfriend, an act of affection for the mayor he was so deeply in love with.
To put it plainly, he told me he was dating Tzofiya.
More than a little surprised, I half-heartedly offered some sort of congratulations, to which the smith then devolved into gushing about his darling. However, my mind tuned out his words. I was more preoccupied with what Tzofiya had told me.
First and foremost, she now had no excuse to have ever thought I was forty years old. But more importantly, she needed to explain why she kept saying I would have to pay for this. It didn’t matter how pressed for money Tzofiya or this town might be, frauding me was unacceptable. Honestly, for someone who seemed to hold manners in such esteem, taking advantage of my integrity was beyond the pale.
I decided I would drag a confession out from the source. With a quick farewell, I left the smith to his work and hurried towards the mayor’s house.
Within minutes, I was knocking on her door. A few moments later, Tzofiya answered. She looked a little tired, but put on her friendly smile once she saw me.
“Morning, son, how’s it going?”
“Pretty swell so far,” I said vindictively, slathering my words with theatrical grandeur. “Your smith is at my house already, and he thinks he’ll be able to make it work.”
“Ach, he was supposed to see me first. Ah well, thanks for letting me know. I suppose you’re also looking for some breakfast?”
“I’d love some. I’m about to head out and gather some stone, per your smith’s request, but there was something I needed to ask you about first.”
“Sure thing. Do you need another tool or something?”
“Not quite, but it is about something that’s been getting used. Mind if I come in for a bit?”
“Um, sure…? I guess I needed to talk to you about Hed, anyways.”
Tzofiya then let me into her home. Hed was seated at their table, eating some kind of fruit. She gestured for me to join him while she stepped into the kitchen. A few moments later, she sat down as well, placing a cup of tea in front of me.
“So, what’s up?” she asked.
“Well, I needed to talk to you about the costs of turning an oven into a kiln.”
“Alright. Did he ask you to pay him or something?”
“Nope, the opposite. Your smith said he was supposed to do it for free, as a favor for his beloved girlfriend.”
“… Gods damn it…”
“Ah, so you’re going to admit it?”
“Of course. I never meant to keep it a secret anyways.”
“Yet you sound awfully embarrassed for someone who’s just been found out.”
“Well yeah. Hearing him talk about our relationship like that always leaves me a little flustered.”
As she said the words, Tzofiya started blushing like a maiden, absentmindedly playing with her teacup’s handle.
I groaned with disbelief. “That’s not the issue here!”
“Really? Then what’s your problem?”
“It’s how you were giving me the runaround!”
“I was not. You never asked, and I didn’t think my guy’d go blabbing his mouth.”
“That’s not the sort of thing I should have to ask about! It’s a blatant lie!”
“Like I said, it ain’t a lie if you never asked!”
“I thought you were a more responsible person, Tzofiya! How can you expect me to trust you if you’re going to deceive me like this?!”
“Well, how the fuck was I supposed to know you were interested in me?!”
… Wait, what?
I looked at her with raw confusion before glancing over at Hed. He seemed to be enjoying our conversation much more than his fruit now.
“What kind of girl goes around telling every guy she meets she’s dating someone or not?!” Tzofiya continued angrily. “Sounds like a real obnoxious bitch, doesn’t it?! If you were so fucking curious, why didn’t you grow some balls and ask me upfront?! Just because I don’t like bragging about my boyfriend to everyone doesn’t make me a liar!”
My jaw threatened to crash through the table.
She thought I was mad she wasn’t single.
“I don’t care about that!” I cried out.
“Then what’s your damn beef, son?!”
“This is about how that smith’s working for free even though you told me you were going to make me pay the costs!”
She stared at me with clear incomprehension. Her usual sharpness just wasn’t kicking in. It was baffling that I was going to have to spell it out.
“Three days ago. When we first checked out the baker’s home. You told me you were going to have to make a special request to get the smith here and that he’s expensive. I accidentally offered to pay and you took me up on that. Yet this whole time, you were going to have him work for free. You were going to cheat me out of work and coin!”
Tzofiya’s eyes went wide, but not with fear over her fraud being revealed or surprise upon understanding the core purpose of our discussion.
No, she looked like she had just heard something incredibly stupid.
“You know, for such a funny guy, you’re pretty damn dull when it comes to jokes,” she said.
“How messed up are you to think that scamming someone is funny?”
“No, dumbass, the part about charging you for the smith. That was a joke back then.”
“It sure didn’t feel like a joke! And you said you were going to add it the costs of that medicine, the house, and everything else I’ve touched in this village!”
“And I then told you not to worry about the amount! I thought you understood that nobody was gonna pay for the smith’s work!”
“How the hell was I supposed to figure that out?!”
“Okay, dumbass, let’s put you through some critical thinking. Our village is poor as shit, right?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, you and everyone else keeps saying as much.”
“Good, at least you listened then. Now, we’re so poor, we can’t afford to buy something like pottery, normally a pretty standard commodity. You following me?”
“Yes, what’s your point?”
“So, we’re really, really, really, poor. No money. With that in mind, there’s no way we’d be able to hire some smith to travel over here and do multi-day labor, right?”
I felt a pit form in my stomach, like I had just stepped on a lion’s tail.
“R-right…”
“Now, what makes you think we’d spend money we don’t have hiring a smith to make a kiln for a potter who’s already cost us money instead of just buying pottery in the first gods damned place?!” Tzofiya shouted.
Hed burst into laughter, a perfect contrast to the shame and regret that was quickly ripping through my being. My face burned red as I realized my terrible assumptions. I now completely understood why she looked like she heard something stupid.
I had been, in no more appropriate of a word, stupid.
“Oh… Yeah… that does make sense…”
“Lior, I’m disappointed in you,” Tzofiya said like the mother she was.
“B-but… but wait! Hed was telling me that village taxes were being spent on setting things up for me!” I tried in an attempt to salvage my respectability.
“And you believed him? You believed my smartass son? “Village taxes”… Lior, we don’t have taxes. We do almost everything through trade here. Did you honestly think a thirteen year old was that informed on how our village operates?”
Hed’s laughter exploded again with renewed vigor.
“W-well, he’s your son, so I…”
“I thought you were smarter than that, especially as a city man.” She shook her head. “How on earth did you not think there was something wrong with the idea of a poor village spending so much money on you, the person who currently owes us money, just to set you up with the equipment so you can eventually repay what you owe?”
“… I don’t know…”
“And you came hollering into my home like a man who had found fire in the ocean! First thing in the morning, and I have to deal with you accusing me of such awful things because you didn’t pull your head out of your ass! You know what the next words out of your mouth should be?”
“… I’m sorry, Tzofiya…”
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you, say it a little louder.”
I bowed my head. “I’m really sorry, Mayor Tzofiya!”
“You’re forgiven,” she replied with a sudden, sweet smile. “I’m a reasonable adult and I can see it was a misunderstanding.
“Th-thank you…!”
“But if you do it again, you’re gonna end up with something in common with our shaman. And I don’t mean everyone in the village is gonna suddenly like you.”
I involuntarily pressed my legs together.
“Now then,” sighed Tzofiya, “maybe try listening to others more intently? You’re probably too focused on being funny yourself so you don’t notice when someone’s making jokes of their own.”
“I will definitely pay complete attention to what you say from now on…”
“That’s good. Remember, people have two ears and one mouth so they can listen twice as much as they speak.”
“Right…”
“So, now that that’s squared away, what’re you gonna do today, son?”
“I’m going back to the mountain to collect some stone for the smith. And then I’m going to mix some cement. And then I’m going to go sit in a corner and try and forget this conversation…”
“Oh, man up. Where’s the guy who was cracking perverted jokes about how much time he spent in my bed?”
“He’s gone. Forever.”
“Feh. Well, before you go off to host your pity party, I still need to talk to you about teaching my son sculpting and such.”
I shook off my doldrum. Right, Hed said he was going to speak with his mother about learning under me, something I had forgotten in my prior vexation. Before, I didn’t have any idea how Tzofiya would feel about me teaching her son, but after my outburst, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was vehemently against it.
“He and I talked about it last night, but I wanted to ask you a few things,” she said. “To start off, why’d you even offer to teach him?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” I replied. “It started off with him asking me, but I was against it at first. But then we kept talking about how I learned to sculpt and why I continue to do so, so I then asked him why he wanted to learn in the first place.”
“Yeah, he mentioned you were kind of an asshole about the whole thing. He said you threw out a bunch of hard questions about art and such.”
“I needed to know if he had a vision and where his passions were. His answers ended up being satisfactory, so I decided I’d do what I could to help him express his vision.”
“What do you mean by “vision”?”
“How he wants to affect the world with his art. Like how I want to share my Goddess and restore her name.”
“What’s your vision, hun?” she asked, turning towards Hed.
He didn’t reply. He looked away as his face turned a shade redder. I took a moment to savor some sadistic joy in watching him shrink before leaning in sympathetically.
“Hed, you’ve gotta tell me this,” Tzofiya said. “Otherwise, I ain’t gonna let Lior teach you anything.”
“She’s right, Hed,” I added. “You’ve gotta get used to saying your vision out loud if you truly believe in it. Being embarrassed is just admitting you don’t actually have faith in it.”
He remained silent.
“If you do, I’ll forget how many desserts you owe me.”
“What?” Tzofiya narrowed her eyes at me.
“Fine, fine,” the boy grumbled. He took a couple deep breaths, then turned to his mother. “Mama, I want to learn to sculpt so I can create statues of the creatures from the storybooks.”
“And why do you want to do that?” I pressed.
“It’s… I want to do that because dad loved reading those stories and I want to share how happy seeing those creatures in my imagination made me.”
Tzofiya stared at him for only a second before her eyes grew wet. Hed’s shoulders hunched as he recoiled from baring his heart, failing to notice his mother’s reaction.
“You remember that? But… that was so long ago…”
“Yeah. I still read those stories sometimes, but it’s nothing like when dad read them. I want to see if I can bring out that passion, like Mr. Lior does with his Goddess. And if someone else liked my work, it’d be kind of like sharing those moments I had with dad.”
“Do you really miss him that much?”
“I do. I think about him whenever I’m reading.”
“Oh, hun…” she nearly whispered. “I didn’t know…”
She hopped from her chair and wrapped her arms around her son. Tzofiya quickly fell into tears, and Hed soon joined her, hugging his mother back. They held themselves together as the veil over their grief peeled back, revealing old wounds that could never truly disappear.
The loving embrace of those left behind.
There was clearly more to the story of the late father than I was aware of, but I kept quiet while they cried in heartfelt warmth. As awkward for me as it was, I wasn’t nearly insensitive enough to interrupt a moment like this. I silently sipped on my tea and waited, keeping my eyes elsewhere.
It wasn’t that I was moved by this moment and it took all my inner strength to not shed a tear myself. And I certainly didn’t look at every other part of the room so I didn’t have the sight burned into my mind. No, I was just practicing for when I had to be the cool mentor.
Definitely.
Maybe a minute later, they separated. It was plain that just bringing her spouse up was tough on both of them. Tzofiya slowly moved back to her seat and exhaled.
“I bet you’ve got some questions now, huh?” she asked me.
“I’m okay. Hed told me enough already.”
“Ah. So, you heard about my husband?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry, I won’t push you for details.”
“You’re fine. I’m more concerned about how I didn’t realize Hed felt the same way. I can’t believe I didn’t notice he was still thinking about his dad too. He didn’t seem lonely, but I guess he takes after me in always trying to put on a strong front.”
She looked at her son. He smiled back.
“Well, I’m glad he was able to open up about that,” I said.
“Me too. But he and I can talk about that more another time.” She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “So… sculpting lessons, huh?”
“Yep. With your approval, I’m willing to teach him what I know.”
“What’s your plan so far?”
“We’ll do lessons when I’m not busy working to pay you back, but in exchange, he’ll help me gather materials and run errands as needed.”
“So he’ll be your apprentice?”
“No, I’m not a master, so it’ll be more like he’s my assistant.”
“That sounds like semantics.”
“Maybe, but it doesn’t feel right to call myself a master. I’m nowhere near as good as my own master was.”
“You’re already the best sculptor in town. I’d think you’ve earned the title.” It seemed Tzofiya had already recovered enough to pointlessly argue again.
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Okay, then can I ask what you think is needed to be a master?”
I didn’t actually have an opinion on that matter, so I fell back on what Master Malka once said. “You need to finish your apprenticeship and have your own workshop or studio. I can’t do the latter yet, so I’m not ready to assume the mantle.”
“Alright, then as mayor, I officially declare the building you reside in to be henceforth known as ‘Lior’s Studio’,” Tzofiya said with unenthused gusto. “Congratulations, Master Lior.”
“Stop messing around. You can’t just put a name on the building and make me into something I’m not.”
“I’m not messing around. I won’t let my son learn to sculpt from some poser. I’d want him to learn from a proper master, so you need to be one.”
It certainly felt like she wasn’t taking this seriously. It almost seemed like she just wanted to make things more grand than they were. It wouldn’t make any difference in my teaching ability or anything, it would just put an honorific on my name and make me seem more impressive than I was. I opened my mouth to counter, only for Tzofiya to cut me off.
“Can I ask how your own master would feel about you fighting this opportunity?”
I glared at her. If she was perceptive enough to consider that as an argument, then she should have been equally aware of how sensitive that subject was. However, the mayor held my eyes unflinchingly.
If Master Malka saw me like this, she would probably tell me I was being an idiot for passing up the chance. She’d look at me with those cold eyes, disappointed and ashamed. She would have been proud to see me start my own studio and spread my vision completely under my own terms. It was quite easy to imagine what she’d say.
“You’re gonna be Wannabe forever if you never take the steps to make your name worth remembering.”
Part of me wanted to lash out in anger at Tzofiya, ask her what right she had to bring up my deceased master and accuse her of the same inconsideration I had once shown. Maybe that’s what I should have done.
But I couldn’t argue against what I knew Master Malka would want for me. Even if she was gone, I promised to carry her ideals within me. I couldn’t let those fade because of some trepidation on my part.
And the truth was, deep down, I had always longed to become a master like her.
“… She would have wanted me to accept the building and the title,” I finally muttered.
“Then can I ask you to please do so? If we’re gonna do this whole apprenticeship thing, I’d like it if we did it properly.”
“There aren’t hard rules about this, Tzofiya. You could call yourself master by smashing rocks in a shack. The only people who really care about earning the title are college kids and prideful fools.”
“Well, you’re clearly wrong since I care about you having the title. Let’s say Hed becomes a great sculptor. Do you really want to make him admit that he never had a master and learned from ‘just some guy’?”
“That won’t make a difference if he’s skilled enough.”
“But do you want to deny him the same pride you have? You’re clearly devoted to the teachings of your own master, can’t you allow him the same privilege?”
I clenched my jaw. I needed to figure out what was in the water around here that was turning impoverished villagers into professional debaters.
Per usual, she had a point, however. Though I would have been proud to study under Master Malka regardless of her title, it felt wrong to think of her as anything else. Being able to call someone your master and hold them in esteem was a great feeling. It was the sense of having someone you could trust and the honor of citing who had helped you hone your skills. It created a sort of lineage, a pedigree of ability.
And just like in a normal family, most people didn’t want to be a bastard.
“Alright already!” I cast my hands up. “I can see you’re dead-set on this. If it’s really that important to you, I’ll call myself master or whatever the hell else you want. I’m completely through arguing about this.”
Tzofiya smiled. “Wonderful, thank you, Lior.”
“You’re welcome, I guess? Really, you’re the one doing me an honor, as difficult about it as I’m being. It’s not how I envisioned becoming a master, but I guess it’s par for the course at this point.”
“Titles are important, son. Nobody would listen to me if I didn’t get to call myself mayor.”
“You know, if you really don’t want the title, you could just say you won’t train me otherwise,” Hed chimed in.
“Then you wouldn’t get your lessons, you dumbass.” His mother swatted him on the ear.
“Yeah, that was really a dumbass thing to say,” I agreed with a nod.
I then received a similar smack on my own ear. “Don’t call my kid a dumbass.”
I held a hand over the stinging skin while Hed mirrored me.
“Sorry, Mama…”
“Hey, you didn’t need to hit me,” I grumbled. “What if I take him up on the suggestion now?”
“You won’t,” Tzofiya said. “I could see it in your eyes that you were actually excited to think about becoming a master yourself. Your heart was just a little conflicted still. You’d commit once we brought up the right motivation.”
“What the hell do my eyes look like to give off that kind of information?”
“So you don’t deny that was the truth?”
“Urk…” Yeah, the water around here is doing something, for sure.
“A good student will seek to be a good teacher, or so says our shaman. You’re kind of a dipshit, but Hed was telling me the figure you made last night was the real deal. I’m sure you’ve wanted to follow in your master’s footsteps for a while.”
“You know, you talk as if you’ve got it all figured out. Even if I do become Hed’s master, what if I decide to leave Tresety and set up my studio elsewhere?”
“Then you can take him with you.”
Both the boy and I looked at her, beyond incredulous.
“You wouldn’t have a problem with me taking your son with me to gods-know-where, far away from you, possibly to the other side of Diesor and beyond?”
“I would, but if you’re both serious about this apprenticeship thing, then I’d have to accept that’s what’s best for my kid. If he’d want to follow you to continue his training, I’m obligated to support him.”
“You’re definitely lying when you say you don’t trust me.”
“Maybe I do trust you, a little. But that’s because my gut tells me you’re made of better stuff. You wouldn’t abandon a pupil so easily.”
“I can’t tell if you’re confident or insane. It’s enough to make me think you’ve seen the future or something.”
“Son, nobody can see the future. But if you pay enough attention, you can get a pretty good idea of what’ll happen next.”
Whether or not she was right, Tzofiya certainly seemed to believe those words. It was an unshakable belief, immutable assurance. It wasn’t that unlike the belief I had in Tornara, in how she would protect me and guide me. But there was something a bit unnerving about a person who had complete faith in their own deductions.
“Alright. Well, it wasn’t like I was planning on going back on my word. I’ll accept the mantle of master and take Hed on as my apprentice, if you’ll allow it,” I said.
“Excellent. We got really offtrack there, so I just have a couple more questions before I agree to all of this.”
“Let’s hear them.”
“How much is this gonna cost me?”
I nearly laughed at the idea. Not to mock her or anything, just the thought of her owing me anything felt comically backwards.
“Well, I planned to have him help me get supplies and run errands, so until he gets to the point where he can make something worth selling, how about I provide lessons and materials in exchange for my meals?”
“Hmmm, yeah, that’s fair. I can even set up an arrangement with our farmers so you don’t have to get everything from my house. They’ll probably want to be first in line to get your pottery though.”
“Fine by me. I can get reports on the quality faster that way.”
“Sounds good. Then I just want to ask what kind of schedule you were planning, for both your own work and Hed’s lessons.”
“I wanted to dedicate at least ten hours a day to making storage pots for the village at first. I’ll start each day gathering materials I’m running low on, then work in the studio. Considering a lot of that time will just be me waiting for the kiln to finish its job, I can teach him while I sculpt and be more hands-on while I’m waiting on the furnace.”
“Ten hours?! Shit, and I thought we were bored around here!”
“Is that not enough? I guess I could do twelve, but-”
“No, no, I think ten is already impressive!” Tzofiya assured before looking over at her son again. “Hed, are you okay with spending that kind of time with Lior?”
“Yeah, I think so. So long as he doesn’t bully me again.”
“I never did in the first place!”
“You’ve gotta learn to ignore his little quips, son.”
“Well, I’ll make him eat his words,” I said. “I’m used to working more than that, so we’ll see if a kid like him can last half the day.”
“How many days off do you take a week?”
I tilted my head. “None? Studio’s don’t have holidays last I checked.”
“Wait, your master never gave you a day off?”
“Nope. She’d work for three or four days straight without sleeping, so I always needed to be ready to manage the studio whenever she did sleep.”
“What the hell kind of woman was she?! No wonder you don’t think you’re on her level!”
“Anyways, I’m happier when I’m sculpting. Even if I was told to take the day off, I’d probably just make something.” A thought crossed my mind. “Unless there’s a place to drink around here…?”
“Uh…” Tzofiya scratched her head. “Well, one of the farmer’s brews his own stuff, but it’s somewhere between cow piss and liquified maggots.”
“Interesting. Can you introduce me to him sometime?”
“I’m starting to think you’re just a masochist, son…”
“Considering I’ve agreed to spend so much time with your son, you might be right.”
“Hey!” interjected Hed.
“Fair enough,” nodded Tzofiya. “Alright, Lior, or I should say, Master Lior. Please, could I ask that you accept my son as your apprentice?”
Bearing all the formality one would expect from a town’s leader, she extended a hand. I shook it without hesitation.
“I’ll do my best to teach him what I can.”
“Thank you. So, when are you gonna start things?”
“Right now. I’ve gotta go out and get some stuff for the kiln, so he’s gonna help me.”
“Got it. Get your crap together, Hed. You’re officially Master Lior’s apprentice, so that means you gotta jump when he says so.”
The young man looked at me with an uncertain concern as he got up. I smirked back, hoping he understood the power his mother just granted me.
A few minutes later, Hed and I left the mayor’s house. We first detoured to what was now my studio to pick up the tools, taking a moment to unload yesterday’s clay from the cart. I asked the smith if he could give me an estimate on how much stone he needed, but he wasn’t sure and instead asked if we could just fill the cart. My back was already protesting, but I still agreed. My new apprentice and I then dragged our way out to the mountain.
Having Hed along for the trip was nice in a few ways. He was much better at navigating through the forest than I was, taking care to mark trees along the way in case we got lost. In addition, bickering with him helped pass the time and splitting the work between us eased my burden. He had more stamina than I would have guessed, but mining stones was still too much for a kid his age. I ended up having to pull the cart back by myself while he sluggishly followed.
Once we got back to my studio, Hed took some time to lay on the bed and recuperate while I started mixing cement. I ground up the seashells I had gathered and crushed some stones into dust, mixing both of them up together with water. The solution wasn’t quite like what I used back in Dostyn, but the smith said it should be fine for his purposes.
By then, my apprentice had mostly recovered, so we spent the next few hours going over the basics of sculpting with clay. How to use your fingers, what each tool was for, techniques to help distribute material where it was needed, and basic shapes to start with. He was a surprisingly attentive student, and thankfully kept his usual remarks to himself.
By the end of our lesson, he had made an almost decent cup. It was too uneven and would likely crack in the furnace, but I was inclined to say it was satisfactory for his first time. He proudly took it with him when he went home for the day.
And that was pretty much how we spent the next few days. Each morning, Hed and I would gather things for the smith before going over the rudimentary skills for sculpting and carving. As Tzofiya promised, I was introduced to the farmers and told to speak with them once a week to get my rations. I also got to meet the farmer who brewed his own alcohol, and he kindly gave me a sample bottle of his concoction. Unsurprisingly, it was pretty nasty stuff, but it would do.
Now I just needed someone to drink it with.
It was on the fourth day after his arrival that the smith finished his work. Hed and I were practicing outside when he gladly announced the completion. I went inside to check the work could hardly believe the difference.
The smith had ended up practically remaking the whole thing, seemingly having replaced everything but the floor beneath it. Where the oven once stood was now a grand kiln, larger than the ones I worked with in Master Malka’s studio. It would allow me to make pots of all sizes for the villagers, hell, I could probably fire a scale-size Tornara figure with this thing. My head was already swimming with new possibilities.
I made sure to properly thank the smith, forcing Hed to bow as well. He smiled jovially, claiming he was happy to do the work. He then said he was going to see Tzofiya to collect his bonus, taking an extra moment to wiggle his eyebrows at me, as he left my studio. Hed asked what that meant, but I quickly turned his attention towards testing out the kiln.
After a cursory inspection, I concluded that everything seemed in order. I would just have to add charcoal to the list of things we would need regularly. The furnace could theoretically use anything that would burn, but I knew coal and charcoal were best for both efficiency and availability. There was some coal in my studio, likely left over from its days a bakery, but the farmer/brewer seemed to make his own as well, so perhaps I could strike a deal with him down the line.
With that squared away, Hed and I then moved into more lessons. After a few hours, I was sure the smith had finished his post-job celebration and sent Hed back to his home.
Despite all the exhaustion from recent events, I couldn’t sleep that night. The thought of having my own fully functional studio was incredibly exciting and I kept thinking about how I would go about promoting my art. More than anything, I thought of Chen and Master Malka, and I deeply wished I could have told them about my new enterprise.
If things had been different, I would have sent them a letter, bragging about becoming the sole sculptor of Tresety and inviting them to come see for themselves. Chen would have then found an excuse to make a delivery to this little backwater, with my master reluctantly coming along.
I would give them a tour of the town and my studio, likely receiving cold criticism from Master Malka while Chen congratulated me. I’d introduce them to Tzofiya and Hed, and perhaps we could all go and enjoy a warm meal together to commemorate the day.
Of course, such was impossible now.
Instead, I would hold my words for when I finally saw them again in the Pleasant Lands, after living the life they helped me build.
Enjoyed the chapter and want to support the author? Check out the full novel, available now on Amazon!
