The work given to them was not particularly complex. For the spear shafts Cierra would sit in front of the lathe while Tyros would fetch the prepared wooden chunk, fix them on the lathe and start moving the bow that was used to make the wooden piece turn. Once the wooden piece was turning she would use her only functioning hand to sculpt the shaft. Nothing fancy and quickly boring for someone used to making decorative items. But work was work and she would keep working here until she was able to use both her hands properly.

Tyros on the other side was ecstatic, it was his first job ever. Even if it was repetitive and a bit boring, the fact that he could see and touch the result of his hard work made him really happy. Sure he was exhausted each time they walked home, but the feeling of being useful to his mom and to the shop made him satisfied.

As days became weeks, and weeks became months, Tyros was allowed to work on different tasks, such as crafting wooden swords or menial tasks linked to the forge. After a few months, Cierra's arm healed and she managed to find a job more fitting to her qualification. She was now working in a furniture workshop and could happily express her creative fiber. Her new job had better pay but that is not why she changed jobs.

The main reason for the change was because she wanted to provide for herself and her kid. Not being given a position simply because the local noble decided so. Moreover her skills were recognized in this new workshop where she could make full use of her talent in wood crafting.

Tyros decided to keep working at the blacksmith’s shop for a few months before his martial education would start. For the first time in his life he would get some money by himself. It wasn’t much but it was his. He felt welcome in that shop and he loved the work. The beginning was a bit hard, he felt sore every day, but the more he worked the less he was affected. After almost six month working at the forge he still wasn’t allowed to do anything remotely dangerous, but he understood. Even if he was eager to learn more and craft some real weapon, he understood that he needed to be patient, fire was dangerous. Molten metal probably even more.

Finally the winter passed, the sunray felt warmer and the vegetation was starting to appear more courageous, braving the weather to retake its place. There could still be spring frost but the sight of those plants slowly growing, looking unstoppable was soothing to Tyros.

Today he would be twelve, as it was the first day of spring. There were only four possible birthdays on this continent, each one representing the first day of a season.

It was still early in the morning when someone knocked on their door. A well dressed man was on the other side of the door:

“Hello, is this home to Tyros and Cierra ?

-Yes sir, how can we help you ?” Tyros answered, there was at least one thing the boy learned from living in the city, politeness was mandatory with your elders. They needed to know that you respected them, whereas in the village kids could be less formal and no one would complain.

The man politely inclined his head and said: “ I was tasked to deliver this letter to both Sir Tyros and Madam Cierra.”

Thank you sir, it is well received” Cierra intervened while receiving the letter.

Once the man left their small courtyard, Cierra opened the letter and explained the content to Tyros.

Now that he was twelve years old he was invited to join a school of martial arts. The school was located in the commoner district, near the wall leading to the noble district. New pupils joined the school one week after each new season, that way you wouldn't lose a full year waiting to join if you were born right after the beginning of the year.

Tyros jumped in joy, he would finally be able to learn how to defend himself. Cierra’s reaction was a bit more subdued but simply seeing her son happy brought a smile on her face.

“You know that you will have to spend some nights in this school, you won’t be able to come back home every night.

- I know, but it will be worth it, mom.” His determination could clearly be seen in his eyes.

His mom sighed: “I guess it will be harder for me than for you. Get ready I can’t be late for work and Oron is expecting you at the forge.”

The kid happily walked to the forge and upon arrival Oron himself was waiting for him. The master blacksmith was usually busy and didn't really care about Tyros’ schedule. But this morning he made an exception. At first he wasn’t feeling too good about being “forced” to employ some random people he didn’t know. Nevertheless after a few months with the kid he acknowledged his patience and thirst for a job well done. He decided to spend some time today with him to create two weapons for the kid: one wooden sword and one real sword.

Well, the “real sword” would be made blunt and as sharp as a spoon in order for the sword to be usable for training, but it would still be a metal sword.

They spent a part of the morning making a wooden sword that would fit him perfectly, he was still young and his body would grow. Hence the sword won’t follow him all his life but they tried to make it as balanced and good as possible.

Once this was done they started working on metal. Their goal was to make a bastard sword that would fit a twelve year old. They mainly made it out of steel. At first Oron was a bit surprised as the kid wanted, from his own words, a very generic sword. It was a bit unusual as kids tended to wish for more fancy and impressive work. The kid insisted he wanted to start with something basic and try to master its conception. Well he wouldn’t on his first try but the intentions were good.

They could have used a mold for this kind of work but they both decided against it, the purpose and the crafting process was more important for both of them than the actual result. The blacksmith understood that, and even if he supervised the kid closely he tried to let him do most of the work. Afterall, his gift to the kid for his birthday was not the sword in itself, but the experience and pointers he would get in the smithy.

As expected, the finished product was far from perfect, but it was still a good first weapon for an inexperienced teenager. Oron didn’t even think he could have done better at twelve, even if his critical eye had difficulty finding the sword passable.

Tyros felt happier than ever once his sword was finished and thanked Oron profusely. They spent the rest of the day working like usual, after all, it was still a shop.

Back at home, Tyros was welcomed by his mother who made what looked like a feast to celebrate his birthday.

Once dinner was over, Cierra extended a gift wrapped in clothes to

Tyros greedily accepted the gift. It was a wooden scabbard adorned by mystic symbols referring to the weaver and the other gods. He absolutely loved it. First of all he understood that she plotted with Oron to have a scabbard that would fit, that’s why he knew that this gift also represented her blessing in his endeavor toward martial training. Secondly it represented his mom as he knew her: reverent toward the gods and gifted as a wood sculptor, he just got it but it already had a lot of sentimental value.

The week went on quickly and it was decided with Oron that he would be able to hop in the shop and help when he had free time. He couldn’t keep his current schedule with his integration in the martial school. And before he knew it was the eve of his first day of school and he finally fell asleep after trying to do so for a few hours.