A Place to Belong, Part I
Roshil pulled her work-in-progress out of the furnace. Setting it back on the anvil, she took her hammer to it again. The sound of metal hitting metal filled her ears, but spending time in the forge almost every day for the past month had turned it into white noise.
Once the metal cooled again, she shoved it back into the furnace. She wiped her brow with her sleeve, sweating in the heat.
“Apprentice Roshil!”
Hearing the Lord High Artisan’s voice, she spun around and stood to attention.
Lord Grund wheeled himself over to her. He looked as dirty as she was, but despite his wheelchair, he managed to give the impression that he loomed over everyone.
“Where’s Master Udra?” he asked.
Roshil glanced around the forge, but didn’t see her master anywhere.
“Don’t know, my lord. She was here earlier. Told me to work with the furnaces this afternoon.”
He looked at the piece of molten steel in the furnace behind her.
“I can see that. Pull that thing out before you ruin it. Nothing more useless than a deformed shield.”
She grabbed her tongs and pulled it out of the furnace, then placed it on the anvil in front of her. She grabbed it with a gloved hand and picked up her hammer in the other.
“Pack it up,” he ordered. “You’re finished for today.”
Roshil looked down at the shield. It wasn’t big, but a buckler still stopped arrows and steel.
“With all due respect, my lord, I’m nearly finished.”
“You’re right. It’ll make a fine shield. Unless you intend to use it to block attacks.”
She glared at him, then went back to work.
“You’re using the wrong tools,” he said.
She paused and studied her creation. It was a little lumpy in places, but she thought it was alright.
“And, you should still be practicing the basics. If you’d mastered them, you’d know what you’re doing wrong. So pack that up for another day.”
“Can’t you tell me what I’m doing wrong?” Roshil worked the metal more, smoothing it out while it was still hot.
“First you flatten it, then you mold it. If you try to do both at once, you end up with lumps and divots like you’re seeing now.”
She growled under her breath, but put down her hammer. After waiting for the metal to cool, she picked it up and moved it to her spot in storage. She took off her gloves, goggles, and apron and put them with the unfinished piece, then returned to the furnaces as Lord Grund was shutting them all down.
“You can go to dinner,” he said. “In fact, that’s an order. You skipped lunch again.”
An image of a hundred staring eyes in the great hall flashed into her mind.
“I’m fine.”
“Having trouble with orders today, I see.” He wheeled over to another furnace and deactivated the spell that kept it hot. He turned his wheelchair to face her. “Food. Now. And if you see Master Udra, tell her I want to see her.”
As much as she didn’t want to go to the great hall, she was hungry, and if she kept arguing, she knew from experience that she’d be banned from the forge for a day.
“Yes, my lord.”
Roshil walked through the door that connected the forge to the rest of the castle. As with all the magic doors in the castle, she felt a tingle when she stepped through it. No matter how many times she walked through one, it still made her smile to think of how beautiful that piece of magic was.
She walked away from the forge, through the stone corridors of Skwyr castle, heading toward the great hall. After spending all day in the forge, the cooler air felt good on her skin. She wiped away sweat again, then looked at her arm.
Five years of living in Skwyr, and she still felt out of place. Pale skin against a sea of brown. People around her whispering about the Kingdom of Nelaro, as though she’d ever been there. All she knew about it was that her mother had grown up there, and that Nelaro City was gone.
Then there were her hair and eyes. Streaks of red ran through her hair, and her eyes were gold. It was the first thing people saw when they saw her.
She walked past a group of apprentices. They glanced in her direction, but didn’t make eye contact. No one liked making eye contact with her, although she didn’t understand why. Were her eyes that bad? Why couldn’t people look past that?
I don’t care, she told herself. I don’t need them.
Sure, she looked different, but she wasn’t the only one. There were people from Alforn and Bywin in the castle too, even a few from Nelaro.
As she neared the great hall for dinner, she spotted a familiar face. It wasn’t a friendly face, but familiar was good enough for her.
“Master Udra!”
She was among a group of people Roshil didn’t recognize. Her first thought was other masters. At first, she didn’t respond, but one of her friends nodded in Roshil’s direction. Udra turned and glared at Roshil.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay in the forge until you were finished making a shield?”
Roshil clenched and unclenched her fists. Lord Grund had ordered her to leave. She was sure his orders overrode Master Udra’s. Why couldn’t people all agree on what she was supposed to do?
Udra said something to her friends, and they walked off, leaving them alone.
“Our Lord High Artisan told me to leave. He wants—”
“Sure he did. Or you’re avoiding working in the forge!”
Roshil frowned, not sure what she meant. People confused her, and she did whatever she could to avoid them, but she’d be content staying in the forge all day. It was the entire reason she became an apprentice. Master Udra should’ve known that.
“I’m not—”
“Don’t lie to me,” Udra said, lowering her voice. “Just because I’m responsible for you doesn’t mean I’m going to believe every word you say. Unless Our Lord High Artisan tells me himself that he dismissed you, you’d better get back to work.”
“I’m not lying,” Roshil hissed. She clenched her fists. Her lips drew back in a snarl.
“Why did I have to get stuck with you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Look at you. Anyone can see you’re not normal. I’m not talking about your skin being white, I’m talking about that hair and those eyes.”
“People change the way they look all the time!”
“Normal people do. But you’re an abomination.”
Master Udra looked her in the eye, but shook as if it were painful for her. Roshil had seen that before, that contempt.
Another voice, one from long ago, crept into her mind.
I’m the only one who will ever love you.
“What?” she asked, pushing down old memories.
“You disobeyed an order from me,” Udra said, breaking eye contact. “Go back to the forge. Stay there until I tell you to leave. And never question me again.”
Roshil glared at her, but nodded nonetheless. She was tired of being pushed around, but no one cared enough about her to stop. She turned and started back toward the forge. Keeping her gaze straight ahead, she walked until she was sure Master Udra couldn’t see her, then turned and headed toward the north tower. Along the way, she spotted a familiar crack in the wall. It opened up at the floor, creating a crawlspace big enough for her to hide.
No one will ever love you.
A shiver ran through her body. She hated that voice, but it never left her. She could still feel those eyes on her, watching her from far away. Those same eyes now stared back at her from her own reflection.
He won’t hurt you anymore.
That’s what they’d told her when she’d been brought to the court. When she’d found out what had happened.
Roshil sat there, struggling to keep herself together. People went by, but no one saw her. She knew she was different. She had been for five years. Before that, people said she looked like her mother. But that thing had taken that from her. Taken her mother. Taken her brother’s sight.
I’m not your enemy, Roshil. I’m your friend. The only one you’ll ever have.
She shook her head, shoving those memories down. She held her legs tighter. It wasn’t her fault she was like this. She didn’t want to be.
Time passed, and people returned to their rooms. Curfew was approaching, which meant she’d missed dinner. That didn’t matter; she didn’t belong in the Court. Maybe she didn’t belong in the kingdom.
She heard a familiar sound echoing through the empty corridors. Glancing out of her hiding spot and down the corridor, she saw Lord Grund turn the corner.
She crawled out, got to her feet, and stood to attention.
“My Lord High Artisan.”
“It’s Master Grund, now,” he said. “I’m taking over your apprenticeship. Report to the forge immediately after breakfast tomorrow morning.”
He turned his wheelchair around and started off before stopping.
“Do you know why people don’t like you?”
“My mother was from Nelaro, and—”
“No.”
She frowned, wondering what it was he knew that she didn’t. Was there some other reason? Her hair and her eyes?
“Go to the kitchens for some food, then go to the library. Look up the term ‘dragon-touched’, and explain it to me tomorrow morning.”
“Is that what I am?”
“Curfew starts soon. You’d best get moving if you want to be ready.”
With that, Master Grund left her alone in the corridor.