#sdeing

Steel was growing frustrated. Frustrated with the man housed above her workshop. She should kick him out, she thinks, seeing as he doesn’t seem to be paying the rent any time soon. The rent that was due ages ago, she might add. How far must one have fallen, to have to mooch off of a young girl? One who has recently lost her father, no doubt, and one that has to fend for herself in the industrial village of Lanox. She can make a living wage, certainly, so how is it that the man above her cannot?

She has half a mind to toss him out and invite a more diligent, more responsible, more reasonable individual to rent out the upper space. Not that many possessing those qualities are in need of living arrangements, but still. At least she’d be able to store extra materials and projects there without that mooch’s presence. Why did she even allow him to hang around in the first place?

She pauses. No, remembers.

She remembers a time, a time before the demon infestation had come to a head, before hard times had fallen more heavily than ever upon her home, before her father was lured into delusion and ripped from her life… a time before she was left all alone.

Sdeing, despite being admired and respected around the village as one of the more proficient blacksmiths, had fallen upon economic hardship. With the lull in war, his works of iron and steel weren’t in high demand, and therefore weren’t selling. He’d had to make less and less to keep money in his pocket and food on the table for his young daughter.

Yes, Steel was his most precious treasure, more valuable than his own livelihood. She couldn’t know how troubled their family was, so he did his best to keep her blissful and ignorant. It was growing difficult, however. Buying food and clothes and supplies while staying financially stable seemed to be an uphill battle, one that was a hair’s width from doing him in when Steel developed a nasty illness.

The stress was overwhelming him, eating him alive, and from his stress grew panic, and from that, carelessness. While forging a sword that, when sold, would cover the cost of Steel’s medicine (at the same time sacrificing a few nights of him being allowed dinner, he acknowledged gravely), his hands brushed the molten bronze and became blistered and agonizing.

His heart had sunk, realizing that without his hands, he would never finish the sword, never get the medicine for Steel, and more than likely never again perform his craft. He fell to his knees, body racked by silent sobs, completely and utterly broken. Pleading to the El Lady to help him in his time of need and to provide him with the strength to carry on. It was then that he appeared.

“Hello..?”

Despite the paper bag shielding his face from view, it was clear to Sdeing that the stranger was hesitant to interrupt his breakdown. It was a mutual caution, given this man had been witness to his tears not moments ago. However, after the initial hesitance had worn off, the masked man had wandered over and gingerly sat across from Sdeing.

It was awkward, but the two began talking, and Sdeing explaining his predicament to the man. Accordingly, the man detailed his reason for wandering about, only briefly skimming the horror of losing his family and face and revealing that the bag he wore was a gift from his late daughter. It pulled at Sdeing’s heart to learn that there was one less angel in the world, and that this strange wanderer had experienced a pain that he himself could not endure… a pain that was fast approaching, given the critical condition of his hands. Once again, he sunk into the depths of despair.

However, upon noticing Sdeing’s hopelessness, the man retrieved two potions from his bag, one red and one purple, meekly offering them to Sdeing. The red potion, he explained, could heal mild wounds like burns and scrapes. The other was a kind of alchemical remedy that could cure most common illnesses. The blacksmith initially protested, not having any money to pay for them, but he persisted, insisting that they was free of charge and that he had no use for them himself. Sdeing reluctantly accepted the potions, and upon downing the red potion, felt that the angry, blistered flesh of his hands had soothed and began mending itself.

He wept tears of gratitude, thanking the man and demanding to repay him. The man insisted that payment was unnecessary; all he needed was information on any vacant properties he could rent out, as he was in need of a place to stay. Despite the man’s acts of charity, Sdeing thought, he didn’t seem too well off, and most of the properties in Lanox were quite expensive. The odds of finding an affordable location weren’t high, but there was one option that Sdeing felt he should push.

The area above his workshop, where he stored what few materials he had left, could be emptied out, cleaned, redone. It could be made livable for a single person, and it was the least he could do the for the man whose charity had rekindled his will to live.

It was only a few years before, Steel recalls, when her father had finally revealed the reason for allowing Pesop to live with them. How his kindness and compassion had brought them back from the brink of homelessness and hunger. Sighing, the frustration no longer courses through her veins, fueling her desire for that mooch’s eviction. No, now it was more so a feeling of resignation, of defeat.