“And that, my fellow dipshits, is how I broke my finger.” I gave a theatrical bow to my awaiting audience, expecting a well deserved standing ovation. I got a cough instead. Good enough. I got up from my bow with a serene expression on my face.

  “Bullshit,” Uria said, which got a round of surprised gasps. “The last time you smashed your finger with the hammer was when you were eight.”

  Jiso coughed into his fist and looked neither me nor Uria in the eye. “Well…uuum. Everyone makes mistakes? Could just be a freak accident. No reason at all to look deeper into the matter.”

  “That’s…suspicious.” Tren narrowed his eyes.

  “Very!” Terra nodded with the enthusiasm of a troglodyte.

  “Well, it’s the truth. Take it or leave it, I couldn’t give less of a damn.” I shrugged.

  Uria glared at me with intense scrutiny, but I’d faced worse glares than anything a simple child could accomplish! I stood unfazed and uncaring, with the confidence of royalty delivering lies to the masses. Tren was surprisingly the first to catch on that I wasn’t such a simple egg that I’d crack, and turned his attention to Jiso. Jiso, for his part, lasted a total of three seconds under the scrutiny of the least intimidating person in our group.

  “She was practicing magic!” he blurted out, shame immediately crossing his features at the statement, but he continued. “She was…I don’t know, the explanation was weird!”

  “You can do magic?!” Terra’s eyes glowed.

  Tren looked between me and Jiso, looking mightily skeptical and confused. “Congratulations?”

  “Congratulations indeed,” Uria glowered. “Not only have you unlocked something of legends, the first thing you managed to do with it was hurt yourself.”

  “You seem surprisingly unsurprised." I pointed out.

  “I’m capable of connecting dots,” Uria said.

  Tren scratched the back of his neck. “I thought you were going through some kind of elf thing.”

  “WAIT!” Terra yelled, and I winced. “Does that mean all that smithing was magic?! Are you a magic smith? Did you make me a magic bangle?!”

  “No, I can do magic, I’m not an enchanter,” I said.

  Terra blinked and tilted her head. “What’s an enchanter?”

  “What you just described.”

  “So…If I take it to an enchanter they can make it magic?” Terra said.

  “Wasn’t that bangle for your mom?”

  “Yeah! I can have a magic mom!”

  “That’s not how that works.” I said, though I could see the rising mirth in Uria’s eyes so I wasn’t entirely against this line of questioning. “Though who knows? Maybe you could have a magic mom.”

  Terra’s eyes sparkled. “Do you have a magic mom?”

  “She does not.” Asna interrupted with a subtle smirk, leaning on the doorframe of our home by the grindstone. “Elves don’t usually unlock magic so quickly. My little gremlin’s special.”

  “Very special.” Uria nodded with mock gravitas.

  Jiso snickered.

  “Just because my finger’s broken doesn’t mean I won’t whoop a bitch.”

  “No news?” Asna asked me as I entered the room, basking in my escape from the early spring rain.

  I was tired, so tired. But that was to be expected, I’d been smithing like mad the past month and change. Certainly more than was reasonable for someone in their early forties. So many arrows to craft, so many weapons to service. I had to admit that I was…a little angry with Yir. She went and broke her finger at the worst possible time, leaving all the work to land on my shoulders. But I pushed that thought away when it came, my daughter was destined for much greater things than a smithies life, even before she became a mage.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  But that wouldn’t matter if the village was overrun by a horde, now would it?

  “Three more squads have gone missing,” I grabbed a wineskin and took a long pull, wiping my mouth and letting out a sigh. “They think it’s the goblins but…there are rumours being spread of a wendigo.”

  My wife didn’t hitch her breath, didn't do anything that might indicate panic. I could only tell she was disturbed from the way her eyes glinted with concern.

  It wasn’t ‘reading the world’ or whatever she called it, but I was fairly confident in my ability to catch cues from my lover. The hint of fear that flashed in her eyes hit me somewhere deep in my heart, but to spare her the news would be a disrespect I wouldn’t tolerate from myself. I walked over to where Asna was sitting, a little bench made of strong oak as a gracious donation from the carpenters.

  A gift of gratitude, for all the nails I’d forced my daughter to make before I’d teach her real smithing. I was expecting a similar gesture once Asna got Yir pushing through two thousand nails daily, simpler times.

  I wrapped an arm around Asna, and squeezed her shoulder in a bid of compassion.

  “It’ll be alright my heart. There’s still dozens of soldiers here, ready to fight off whatever’s out there. We’ll be just fine.”

  “Battalions have fallen to less,” Asna said without a hint of emotion. “The more time passes the closer the horde gets, alongside whatever other horrors hide in the forest. We won’t survive something like that, it simply isn’t feasible.”

  “By the gods' grace, I'll never let anything happen to you or Yir.”

  Asna turned to give him a soft smile. “That’s a sweet sentiment, but you’re just one man. What’s coming isn’t something you can stop.”

  I looked down at the floor in slight embarrassment. She wasn’t wrong, but I’d still try my best, right?

  “The weavers next door are joining the next caravan to the city,” Asna said. “Perhaps we should join them before any escape becomes hopeless?”

  “The army’s already here Asna, they won’t let us leave.”

  Another beat of silence, before my daughter walked in from the smithy with plenty of sweat on her brow. Her smile was the widest he’s ever seen, which wasn’t much of a challenge. It was rare to get her to give a genuine smile. The fact she was swaying on her feet did temper any celebrations though. “I did it! I fucking did it, magic doesn’t got shit on this bitch!”

  “Yir!” Asna exclaimed. “That’s no language for a young lady, especially not when addressing your parents.”

  “It’s fine, Asna. Teaching her manners is a fool’s endeavor.” I chuckled.

  Yir scowled at me, thin eyebrows of black scrunched over eyes of a vibrant purple. She was cute when she was angry, which was often. Broke the fa?ade of maturity she tried so hard to project.

  “Well, don’t keep us in suspense,” I chuckled. “What did you do?”

  Her face brightened again, and she presented her hand to us with a smug expression. On it were five distinctly unbroken fingers. I raised a brow and Asna let out a gasp. Yir’s smile widened at our reaction, clearly pleased.

  “How?” I muttered.

  “Elementary, father!” Yir puffed out her chest. “I simply had to put more meaning into ‘mend’, I’m thinking that mana works on intention as much as it does whatever the fuck else. So if I just focus on my understanding of the word alongside healing…well, it’s either more efficient or more powerful, but the difference doesn’t really matter.”

  “Why ‘mend’ specifically, why not heal?” Asna asked.

  Yir blinked and squinted. “It just…felt right?”

  “Interesting,” Asna mumbled while rubbing her chin. “Very interesting.”

  “I’m sure it is sweetheart,” I patted my wife on the back. She was…a bit obsessed with magic. Which, fair, but it was still a little jarring. I was used to her being cool and collected.

  “So, what’re you two doing being all romantic?” Yir quipped, and accidentally murdered the jovial mood in a rather brutal fashion. “What? What’d I say?”

  “It’s nothing you said, buttercup. Your father's just been gathering the news, and he’s done an admirable job of it,” Asna said with pride laced in her voice.

  I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic, but I puffed out my chest nonetheless.

  “Yeah? And what news is that?”

  I made a show of contemplating before answering the question, the rising irritation on my daughter’s face definitely didn’t derive any kind of amusement, certainly not. “Well, I hear Grim and Grom are looking for helping hands to pick the weeds at their farms.”

  “Hilarious,” Yir deadpanned. “Now be serious, lest you forget that I’m closer to the hammer.”

  I gave a snort at the implied threat, waving at her to come take a seat beside me. She raised a brow, but shrugged and headed over, plopping herself down on the bench.

  “Now, what’s so important you needed me to move five steps closer?”

  I pursed my lips as I stared at the wall across from me.

  “There’s rumors of a wendigo,” I finally said.

  There was a long beat of silence before my daughter replied. “So when are we leaving?”

  “You know the army won’t allow that,” I sighed.

  “Yeah, but a girl can dream.” Yir shrugged

  “Well, so can grown men, and now that your finger’s all healed I’m starting to dream of you helping in the smithy again.”

  “Godsdammit!”