Nest

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The constant banging of the metalworkers in the background as they pounded away on a newly forged iron beam seemed to serve as a metronome for the rest of the workshop to follow along with as they worked on their other menial tasks, such as sanding and hammering.

For Fareed, on the other hand, it felt more like a distraction. His work relied on precision for the finer details of engraving and scraping. So, the clanging was starting to make him want to work faster, which is seldom a good thing with tasks like these. Fareed knew that from experience, and he had gotten rather good at drowning out the noise. However, it is one thing to drown out a constant irritating noise, and it is quite another to stay stoic when one hears a crash in a metalworking shop.

CRASH!

The workbench on which the beam had been placed was an old one, and after resisting the weight of the beam and the banging on it for as long as it could, it finally gave way. And experience, or the lack thereof, had failed Fareed again. It seemed like the falling beam had not caused anyone injury or caused any more damage than would have been expected, but the sound had startled Fareed, and his hand had slipped. The cut was not too deep, thankfully, and the bleeding was not messy.

“Ow…” he said to himself under his breath.

As he got up and proceeded towards the main office where a first aid kit would be found, a crowd was gathering around where the real accident had happened. As he reached the door, the owner of the shop, Mr Alistair, barged out, walking past him.

“Is everyone alright? What happened?” He called out.

“Nothing, sir, we’ll be fine!” Someone in the crowd called back.

Satisfied by that answer, he turned back and noticed Fareed standing by his office door. “Oh, Fareed, were you coming to talk to me?”

Fareed looked at him, “Well…” and lifted his bloody hand, “I need help cleaning and wrapping this.”

“Oh! Of course, come on in,” Fareed was ushered in and sat down as Mr Alistair looked for the first aid kit. “Where did that blasted thing go? I swear I put it somewhere over here when I last cleaned this place…” he said as he rummaged in one corner of the office.

He finally pulled out a small metal box and opened it to produce some cloth. “I unfortunately have no medicine, must remember to get some more. But the cloth is still clean. Still, once you get home, you should remove this, clean the wound and re-dress it.”

“My, if I may say so, sir, this is some very succinct advice. One would believe you were a doctor.” Fareed said.

Mr Alistair chuckled. “Ah, my boy, I have been treating wounds such as these since before you were speaking.”

As he tightened the knot on my hand and sat back, he looked out of the window in his office. “What really happened out there?”

Fareed turned to look out the window as well. “Oh, a workbench holding up one of the iron beams collapsed. None of the workers were hurt, thankfully.”

“Ah, I’m glad. I was afraid there would have been more trouble.”

“Sir, if I may…”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Those iron beams. I’ve never known this shop to craft such large items.” Fareed turned back to the owner. “Did we receive a commission?”

The owner chuckled. “We did actually, which is why the workshop has been so active the last few days. This may have been a little bit of a rush order.”

“A rush order? How?”

The owner opened his mouth, then turned to me. “Well, before I answer that, may I ask you a question?”

“Sure, sir,”

“Fareed, what do you intend to achieve here?”

The question took Fareed off guard. “Where is that coming from?”

“You have worked here, doing odd jobs for me, for almost five years. You have been forging and metalworking for the last three. But is your life here all you wish for?”

“It is a comfortable life…” Fareed started saying.

“It sure is, but what if you could have more?”

“… What do you mean?”

“Hmm, I’d like to show you something. But before we go, can I ask for a favour?”

“Of course,”

“The workbench that broke- could I trouble you to repair it? So that that particular workstation can get back to work as soon as possible?”

“Of course, I can,” Fareed said, standing up.

“Perfect, I need to get my coat.” Mr Alistair said, standing up as well, “You can fix the bench in the meantime.”

Mr Alistair then shuffled around looking for his coat while Fareed stepped out of the office. He walked over to the broken workbench as a pulley was being brought over to carry the beam up, overseen by the foreman of the smithy. The foreman then saw Fareed approaching.

“Oh, Fareed, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“I was asked to fix the workbench. Could everyone step back?”

“Oh!” the foreman jumped up, “EVERYONE!” he bellowed out. “EVERYONE STAND BACK FROM THE BENCH- FAREED IS WORKING NOW.”

As people excitedly scattered away from him and the bench, looking in with awe and expectation, Fareed stepped in and took stock of the damaged bench and the iron beam still lying on it. The beam is not part of the workbench, so he’ll have to leave it aside. He hoped none of the bolts were damaged because those would be a hassle to repair, not to mention the several dozen splinters that would have scattered under the other work benches. Well, nothing to do but get the process started if he had to find out.

Fareed closed his eyes and let out a breath, then he reached forward with his hands. As he did, he felt the lingering warmth of the iron beam from when it was forged. He closed his hand and lifted it. From the outside, the workers saw the iron bar lift off the broken bench and levitate above the mess. They all let out gasps of awe and wonder. Fareed does not use his magic often, but when he does, it is always a treat to watch.

He then reached for the broken workbench with his magic. He felt the wood, cold and more brittle than the iron beam. He then reached for the benches beside him. Also of wood, but to him they were markedly different. They felt whole, perfectly pieced together. Reaching below them, he felt something brushing against his palm, things of wood that felt out of place. Cupping his hand, he pulled those things out and out came some splinters. He continued reaching out until it seemed like nothing was missing. Then he cupped his hands again and brought the mess together. As he did, he visualised the workbench as it was, and placed what pieces he could understand. As he did, the splinters attached themselves to wherever they were supposed to go. Before he finished, he grabbed the beam, still floating in the air, and placed it back on the bench. He felt it sag ever so slightly, but it held the beam up with a newfound strength. He let out another breath as he opened his eyes again to the workbench, looking as good as new and a round of applause from the rest of the workers.

“Marvelous!”

“Beautiful!”

“Extraordinary!”

The workers exclaimed accolades one by one, all of which made Fareed happy and a little embarrassed.

“Indeed, a mage’s work is a sight to behold,” a booming voice called out from behind the group, “but that does not take away from the magic of one’s ingenuity. Chop-chop! All this metal is not going to forge itself!” Mr Alistair called out as he locked the door to his office.

The workers immediately started shifting back to their stations, and the foreman approached Mr Alistair. “Are you heading out now, sir?” he asked.

“Yes, but only for a little bit, our client is coming in today. Well, the party we are to leave the items to is, and I would like to greet them.”

“I see,”

“How are we proceeding on the order?”

“A little bit behind. If it comes down to it, we may need an extra day or two.”

“Hmm, that should be fine, we laid out the schedule considering these possibilities. Oh, and Fareed will be joining me.”

“Okay, sir, does someone else need to fill in for him?”

“Not for today, no," Mr Alistair turned around behind him to see Fareed speaking with a couple of his peers. He lowered his voice and then continued, "But we may or may not need to start looking for another machinist.”

“Oh? I will inform the secretary later today, then.”

“Good, I’ll be leaving now then. Fareed! Come, let us go.” Mr Alistair said as he walked out of the smithy.

Fareed bid goodbye to the metalworkers he was speaking with and followed Mr Alistair out, taking in a deep breath of the fresh air outside as he left the smithy behind.