Today was probably the last day, the last one for a while. He leaned against a blackened willow and watched the sunrise over a distant, mountainous horizon. He listened to the winds while they whispered and the rustling of trees as they swayed.

Tomorrow morning he’d have to ready himself for the Coming of Ages Ceremony and shortly after the celebrations were over he’d leave for the city of Silverwall. So he savoured this moment, and for the first time he decided to speak to it. To them.

He looked up at the willow’s golden leaves and ebon branches.

“Hey it's been a while. I know I haven't really spoken to you but, I guess I never really had anything worth saying.”

The winds picked up a little.

“I wanted to tell you, I managed to pick up an apprenticeship with one of the masters over in Silverwall.” He paused for a second, trying to figure out what he was saying, and why.

“I think we can do it this time you know? Become rich and famous, everything we’ve ever wanted.”

He took comfort in the gales.

“But I think this means goodbye. For now at least. For four- maybe five years.”

The leaves went silent and the wind stopped.

“So I wanted say, I'll always remember you. And when I next get the chance I’ll be certain to come and visit; I'll tell you about all my exploits and profits in the coming years.”

He stood up and looked towards the trunk of the tree, on a little section where the dawn’s light shined; words carved into the tree.

In loving memory of Rea and Darius Brandy.

“Wish me luck.”

He walked past the willow, through fields of grass and rolling hills. From the top of each hill he could see the town in the distance. The closer and closer he got the more he could see its layout, or rather, it's lack thereof. The buildings themselves had no uniformity and they were placed haphazardly around an unusually large town square. The main roads were somewhat small, with a maze like network of thin alleyways that ran the course of the town. Even from here he could see the main roads being crowded and overflowing with people.

He walked along the pathways through fields of golden crop, entering through one of the main roads despite how crowded it had already become. Townsfolk were setting up colorful banners and decorative ornaments. Some shops were closed for the next few days while others promoted their wares more fiercely than ever. The scents of bakery sweets and smoked meats hung in the air, but as he passed through the square he was filled with anxiety.

A wooden stage was currently under construction and almost complete, chairs for the celebrants’ families were arranged in a semi-circle across from it; and in the center was marble pillar that stood at about chest height. Atop the pillar was a grey sphere made from stone, spiral carvings ran across its surface and fed into the pillar below.

He lengthened his stride, eager to put the stone out of sight and out of mind. Thankfully his house was only a few minutes away from the square, far enough away from the stone, but close enough to be convenient.

He walked up to the door and knocked once or twice. It opened inwards slowly and his mother stood at the doorway rubbing her eyes.

“Oh! Good you’re back, go check your supplies while I get my tools.”

“I already check-”

“Yes yes I know but it never hurts to be safe.”

“And my measurements we already-”

“You never know, boys your age eat a lot.”

“Come on.” He whined

“Just do it already.”

“Fine.”

Mother ushered him into the house, gently closing the door and walking upstairs to look something. He followed her and at the top of the stairway made a left, pushing his door open and walking into the room. It was drafty, cramped, and dimly lit, but it felt like home. Beside his bed and beneath the window laid a backpack, a sack, and a small satchel.

He checked the backpack’s contents briefly, making sure the bedroll and clothes were all in place. The sack was entirely empty, though it would carry his food once he went on his way. What he cared about most, was the satchel. He counted the coins, more money than he’d seen in his lifetime, ten golds, twenty silvers, and a few handfuls of bronze. Where they’d gotten the money he’d never know, but he placed them back in their pouches and gingerly picked up a small envelope. On it was a silver, waxy seal embossed with a stylized hammer.

He’d have to read the letter, one last time in case he missed anything. He opened the envelope and read through it carefully.

Addressed to Namar Brandy

Your talents have been recognized by the committee of smiths at the Maker’s Association. You are hereby invited to take an apprenticeship under Master Chromus for the next four years or until you complete your trials and gain the title of Journeyman Smith. Food and lodging will be provided. Further details upon arrival.

~The Maker’s Association

His mother called out. “Namar get down here!”

 “Got it!”

He gingerly placed the letter back in its envelope and neatly tucked it away into a pouch.

“Namar!” His mother called out again.

“Coming!”

He rushed down the stairs and walked into the common room. The tables and chairs had been moved to the side and his mother stood center holding a marked string about the length of her arm.

She tapped her foot impatiently. “Hurry up we’ve got other things to do today.”

Namar wordlessly stepped into the center of the room while she used the length of string to take his measurements.

“Alright, everything looks ok. Now where is that father of yours I swear if he’s gotten distracted again…”

“Should I look for him?”

“No it's fine, it's fine. I'm sure he’s on his way… Have you memorized the ritual procedures?”

“Backwards and forwards.”

“Do you know what you’re going to do once you arrive in Silverwall?”

“Absolutely.”

His mother took a seat and fired off a series of questions to which he answered with absolute confidence. Then, she changed the topic.

“How're you feeling about your dancing skills?”

“My uh… my what?”

“You're dancing how is it?”

Namar suddenly became more awkward, fidgeting and looking off in different directions.

“Don't tell me he never tried to teach you.”

“Well… I kind’ve wanted to skip that part.”

“Absolutely not.”

“But it doesn't have anything to do with anything!”

“Yes. It does.” She crossed her arms.

“Name it.”

“How about your reputation?”

“What about it? I won't even be here after tomorrow.”

“If you’re always this stiff about everything how're you ever going to find a wife?”

“I don't care.”

“Look I know it doesn't matter to you right now since you’re off chasing your dreams or whatever, but one day you’re going to want a genuine wife and…” At this point she gave up on whatever speech she had in mind and sighed “Damn it I want grandkids Namar!”

“What?” Namar was momentarily stunned

“You’re a big boy now Namar surely you can at least handle that.” She was mocking him. She was really mocking him.

“Mom I have things I want to do.”

“And that's exactly what I'm hoping for.”

“Mom!”

Mother’s expression softened. “Look, I know you have your goals and dreams in mind, but you and I are a lot more alike than you think.”

“Is that so?” He asked skeptically.

“Just hear me out-”

“Sure.”

“No. Really.” She stood up, taking his hands in her own.

“... Alright.”

“I was just like you once. So obsessed with my dreams that I forgot to enjoy myself along the way. That was… a long time ago, before I met your father. So please, loosen up a little? Have some fun. Sing, dance, play, you haven't done any of that since you were seven. If not for yourself then at least do it for me?”

“Ok.”

They hugged it out. Unfortunately, mother had the audacity to ruin the moment.

“But I still want those grandchildren.”

Not particularly eager to continue their argument he responded. “I'll keep it mind.”

“That's all I wanted.”

Suddenly they were both crushed and lifted up by the muscular arms of a huge man bear. Also known as his father.

“Oh! I love you guys too!”

“Dad? Where did you come from?”

“Oh I've been around.” Dad had the most unbelievably smug impression.

“Does that mean you were listening to that whole thing?”

“Yup.”

Moms cheeks became a scarlet red. She struggled to escape the power of dad's hugs. “Put us down you oaf!”

Reluctantly he let them go. “Awww ok.”

“So I heard you needed help.”

Namar nodded his head.

“Alright, now watch master at work.”

Mother shook her head and moved to lean on the far corner of the common room. Father on the other hand moved to the center of the room and started dancing.

It was horrendous.

“Alright now you.”

Mom stood in the corner barely able to hold back her laughter

Namar took dad’s place in the center of the room and shamefully tried his absolute hardest to mimic dad’s movement. He took a step back, and felt his foot roll to the side. He wasn't able to stop himself from falling, Namar hit the ground with a heavy thud.

Mom rushed to his side. “Namar!” She helped him up. “Are you okay?”

“I think so.”

Dad on the other hand was freaking out. He took him by the shoulders and started to shake him. “Son are you alright! Do you need a visit to a shaman? Cause’ I know a guy and he…”

“I'm fine dad.” He gave him a forced smile and a thumbs up for reassurance.

Dad's expression slowly started to shift from one of panic to an expression of glee. “Hah! That's my son just like me tough as balls.”

Mom snorted. “Maybe we’ll try again in the afternoon.”

“No no it's fine. I'm… fine. I’ll work on this all day if I have to. Better to look like an idiot now than later.”

“Exactly! Alright get up and try again I'll show you step by step this time.”

"No. Not you,”She held a finger up at him. “You work on other things. I'll teach him. Well? Shoo! Go on.”

“Will do sweetie.” He smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek and left for the smithy.

Mother turned to him. “Now let's try this again.”

“Right.” He moved to the center of the room and prepared to fail miserably for the next twenty four hours.