Inside my mind's eye, the specifics of the sword I was crafting were already loaded and I was following standard procedure. It could hardly be said to be a piece of art, not yet at least, but I didn't need to know what the design was going to be nor did I need to know what I needed to do. Giving it shape through force and expertise. With careful precision I brought the hammer down again and again onto the steel I was shaping the weapon out of, creating the cracking sound that was alike to the ones around me. It was the first rule I was taught by my master when forging "make sure there is no discomfort, else you will make a critical mistake" it was true advice, considering that at the beginning, my brat of a past self had made that same mistake at times before I stopped being a little shit and listened. The workshop's air was stale, it was clouded with smoke and fog from the forges, and I was sweating so heavily I needed to strip my top half in order to be cool enough not to overheat myself. To modern blacksmiths the process wasn't exactly cost-effective, but to me and to my fellow apprentices, it was a process that was as simple as breathing. Even before that the material would be shaped into a bar or block to make it easier. To begin with, you take a large piece of whatever material you want to make the weapon out of, then go through the long and arduous process of filing the material to a small shape, grinding it if you want or even cutting. To those that pursued such a course, it was remarkably simple.
It was a simple process, forging a sword.
I'd really appreciate it, but above all else I hope you guys enjoy reading this first chapter, and enjoy reading the story as it progresses!
I'm really nervous, and it's taken a lot of courage for me to do this, but I hope you guys like it, watch it and comment on it. Well guys, here I am with my first posted story! My name is KnightOfTheEnd, and this is the very first story I'm posting on Spacebattles!
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