After another hour, we finally left the forest. Hatchet was carrying the doe and I was carrying three rabbits we found in the traps he had set. He once again went into teacher mode, teaching me the basics of trapping—from how to set up the traps to where to place and hide them. Although I'm grateful for the instructions, it still throws me off a little when the usually stoic and slow-to-speak Hatchet goes on and on about every detail. If I did not have the void-like memory that allows me to retain most of what he teaches, I would have been very lost.
While walking back, we entered the wheat field heading towards the small village in the center. I asked, "Who is the butcher here? You almost never mention any of the people here."
"The butcher is Grant Stonefist. He is very good at his job," he responded.
Stonefist sounds like a name a dwarf would have, though Grant sounds like a normal human name. I guess I didn't know what was normal here. "Hey Hatchet, is the butcher a dwarf?"
"Yeah, he is a half-dwarf. Why do you ask?"
"I was just thinking that his last name sounds rather dwarf-like, if that is not too rude to say."
"Ah yes, it's fine. The dwarves are quite proud of their family names, though their first names are more normal-sounding and usually don't have to do with stone or rock."
After that, Hatchet fell back into his normal, non-talkative self, and we walked in comfortable silence until we reached the butcher's shop. Opening the door, Hatchet suddenly called out, "Hey old man, I got what you wanted!"
I heard some thumps and clanking come from a back room, as well as the soft curses of an annoyed dwarf. A few moments later, the door opened and a strong-looking dwarf stepped out; he looked like he was in the latter end of middle age. Although he had a full head of brown hair, he also had a long braided beard the same color, though when the light hit at the perfect angle, it turned red. He was also the same height as me.
"Ooi, you sneaky coward, I hope you brought me something good this time," he said to Hatchet in a surprisingly gruff voice.
"Relax, you old lug, I brought you three rabbits."
"More rabbits again? I thought I told you to get me a da—"
Before he finished, Hatchet interrupted, "And we brought a deer."
This cut off the dwarf's tirade. Finally closing the door and turning around, the dwarf took a look at us and the spoils of our hunt. After a quick look at the deer on Hatchet's shoulders, he turned his gaze on me. Our eyes locked for a few seconds as we analyzed each other before he finally grunted and turned back to Hatchet.
"Who's the twig? Don't tell me there's going to be another one of you sneaky folk running around the forest like it's a playground," he grunted.
"He's Cain, Cain Headmen," Hatchet responded, putting a hand on my shoulder.
Grant lifted an eyebrow in slight surprise and mirth. "Oh, is that so? You and Cecile have been here long enough; I thought you just weren't at full function anymore," he said with thinly veiled amusement.
I let out a surprised snort, earning a sharp look from the slightly more pitiable Hatchet, before he turned back toward Grant. "Watch yourself, Grant. You've been here even longer than us and you're still single. Speaking of which, what about Erin Gold—"
"Well, it seems like you brought me a good haul today! I'll take those and process them right away. I'll get you the normal cuts you get," Grant hastily interrupted. Before I knew it, he had already taken the animals and headed into the back rooms.
Turning to Hatchet, I asked, "Who is Erin?"
"Erin Goldmount is a nice dwarf lady working in the general appliance shop. Grant had a crush on her a few years back and the idiot is too shy to ask her out."
After ten or so minutes of waiting, Grant returned with a few packages of meat wrapped in butcher's paper. "Here you go now. Leave, and leave this old dwarf in peace."
With a good-hearted chuckle, Hatchet responded, "OK, OK, we'll be going now."
Picking up the wrapped bundles, we made our way out, but just before closing the door, Hatchet called back inside, "Good luck with Erin! I'm sure this year is the year!"
Quickly closing the door after calling out, I heard a loud crashing sound hit the wood. "Come on kid, let's get on our way back."
Shaking my head in amusement, I said, "OK," and started heading back. I thought it was nice to see the childish side of Hatchet—not the strict drill instructor, the surprisingly detailed teacher, or the lovestruck husband. It was nice to learn about the people who took me in as family.
Opening the door to our home, I first noticed the mouthwatering smell of freshly baked bread, stewed meat, and herbs. Walking inside, I saw that Cecile was out of the workshop and busy in the kitchen. She was over a pot of stew, adding some green herbs. To her right, the table held pastries with jam, fresh cut fruits, and a loaf of bread that looked very similar to pound cake.
Cecile turned from her work upon hearing the door. She gave us a soft and loving smile, saying, "Welcome back. Did you have fun out hunting?"
Giving a smile back, I responded, "Yes, it was a lot of fun." Looking at the food on the table, I asked, "It smells amazing. What is the reason for all the food?"
She gave me a disapproving look, saying, "It's your birthday, of course! We had to celebrate."
"Oh, I kind of forgot it was my birthday. I guess I was just caught up in today's activities, even though I guess the reason for today's activities was my birthday," I said with a sheepish smile.
She gave me a slightly sad but soft smile. Turning off the stove and walking over, she crouched down, gave me a hug, and said, "As long as I'm around, there's no chance you will forget your birthday."
Hatchet jumped in, put a hand on my shoulder, and said, "Especially after having some of her pastries and sweet bread."
Releasing me from the hug, Cecile smiled and said, "Now, you two get out of those hunting clothes and clean up so we can have dinner. Everything should be ready in the next hour or so, so take your time and relax."
After a bath and a change of clothes, I found myself at the table with Cecile and Hatchet, having some of the best food I've had in both lifetimes. The pastries Cecile made were some of the best things I've ever tasted; they all had soft, buttery, flaky crusts and so many unique flavors. Some had a cinnamon-like paste and a few other spices I'd never heard of, yet the flavors mixed and melted so well it seemed like I was eating food meant for the gods. There were also pastries with fruit jams and jellies. There was even a pastry where, if I hadn't looked at the texture, I would have fully believed I was eating an orange because of its sweet, citrus flavors.
New flavors just kept coming with every bite. Time seemed to vanish while we sat and devoured the wonderful food, with a few questions about our day from Cecile and scattered responses between bites. After an unknown amount of time, having eaten more carbs than I would need in a week, we finally finished—not because we couldn't eat anymore, but because we ran out.
Letting out a satisfied sigh and sitting back, I said, "If we have food like this on my birthday, you're right—I will never forget my birthday again. Thank you so very much for the food."
Letting out a soft chuckle, Cecile said, "You're welcome, but it is not over yet. There is one more thing."
She got up and grabbed a long, wrapped bundle from the corner of the room. She brought it over and handed it to me with a look of anticipation and love in her eyes. "Happy birthday, Cain. Go on, open it."
Taking the package while saying thank you, I started unwrapping the paper. The first thing I noticed was a smooth, rounded black metal pommel followed by a black wood handle. It reminded me of a darker version of ebony, with grains of light tones and veins of dark brown that made the wood look like it was still alive. The handle led to a guard made of the same black metal. The guard did not go out far and stayed flush with the scabbard, though it was finely carved with a branch-like pattern and scattered blossoms. You could only notice the pattern when the light reflected off the ridges or by running your hands over the design. This was followed by a black leather scabbard with a dark brown leather strap to attach the sword to my clothes.
While marveling at the amazing craftsmanship, I opened the scabbard slightly to reveal the blade. In great contrast with the dark tones of the handle and scabbard, the double-edged blade was as white as white gold and razor sharp. Looking up at Cecile with awe, I said, "It is beautiful."
Cecile gave me a wide smile. "It is a Jian-style blade. It's the type of blade Hatchet prefers, though this one is quite a bit shorter to account for your size. When you grow, it will act as a great sidearm or secondary weapon," she explained.
"What kind of metal is the blade? It looks like white gold, though it's clearly not as heavy or soft as that would suggest," I questioned.
"This is an iron alloy with some monster parts and some powdered Arenak to make it harder and resistant to wear."
"What is Arenak?" I asked.
Hatchet answered, saying, "Arenak is a rare metal usually found in the dungeon, though it has been found outside as well. It is a very hard metal, though if you are persistent, it can be broken down and ground into a powder-like substance. When added to hot metal, it gives the metal greater durability and strength."
"Wow, that is a very useful ore," I said.
"Indeed it is," Cecile responded.
"Thank you, Cecile. This is an amazing gift. I can't believe that you made it in a day," I said.
She gave me a brilliant smile in return. "You're welcome, though I already had a lot of the materials ready. I have many partially made blades; I just had to do some touch-ups, add the Arenak, and assemble the sword." She gave another soft smile. "Now, get off to bed. I'm about to fall into a food coma."
"OK, Mom. Good night," I said, walking to my room and looking at my new sword, not noticing the surprised yet happiest smile yet on Cecile's face.