//------------------------------// // Chapter 41 - Forging Bonds // Story: A Pony Displaced: Homeward // by NoLongerSober //------------------------------// Daylight had just started to stretch across Vanhoover as Iron Forge pulled himself out of bed, trying to rub the sleepiness from his eyes as he quietly strolled past Swift and Verdant, making his way into the bathroom. After brushing his teeth and neatly combing his hair, ensuring that not a speck of plaque remained or a single hair was out of line, the unicorn gave a nervous sigh. “Today’s the big day,” he whispered to his reflection before looking to the ceiling. “Faust, please make sure I don’t mess this day up.” A pair of rapid thunks came from behind the door before Winter Gem’s voice called out: “Hey Forge, can you speed up your early morning session with Mr. Frog? I have to pee so bad I can taste it!” With a roll of his eyes, Forge stepped out of the bathroom and headed downstairs. In the kitchen he found Verdant brewing coffee and making omelets. “Good morning, Forge. The omelets should be ready in just a few minutes.” “Afraid I’m going to have to pass on that,” Forge replied as he lit his horn, tossing the fridge open. “I’m just going to grab a muffin and head to Silver Swirl’s, I want to make a good impression.” “Alright, I hope it goes well for you, buddy,” the green stallion patted his on the shoulder as he strolled past him. “Just don’t push yourself too hard. Who knows how much smithing has changed over the centuries.” A warm chuckle emanated from the cobalt stallion as he trotted out of the kitchen. “Trust me, Verdant. I can handle anything that could come my way,” he replied as he placed a hoof on the door handle. “Famous last words, my friend.” Verdant’s joking voice echoed from the kitchen, drawing a chuckle from Forge as he headed out, taking in the early morning air. “Ready or not, here I go.” *** Forge stood by the front entrance of a two story building, elegantly painted in white and silver that sparkled like a diamond in the warm morning light. Above the shop’s door was a fancy wooden sign painted white. Upon it was beautiful cursive that read in silver, “Silver Swirl’s Smithing Shop.” The stallion took a hard swallow before pushing his way into the shop. Inside was a silver coated mare with a flowing mane, taking a sip of coffee before spotting Forge. “Ah, Forge. Perfect timing.” Silver Swirl stepped out from behind the desk. “Looking much better than last time. You look a lot more professional without a Kre-O brick in your mane.” Forge grinned widely and gave her a salute. “I’m ready to start on whatever you’d like me to, ma’am.” “Nice. I like your spirit, kid.” Swirl nodded before ushering him into a back room. In there, there was the roar of furnaces and the clanging of steel striking steel as they traveled further into the forge. “Now, since you’re a few centuries behind and a new employee, I’m gonna have you study under my best smith. She’ll be showing you the ropes when it comes to handling our modern equipment.” “I’ll do her proud, ma’am.” Forge grinned as his eyes wandered about, seeing so many devices that looked completely alien to him. Some of this looks like it’d be right at home in Hatty’s Star Trot books. “I’m sure you will. After all, she did recommend you when I got your resume.” Swirl looked over her shoulder to the confused unicorn. Wait, somepony recommended me? How’s that possible? I don’t know anypony here. The blue unicorn rubbed his chin in perplexment until he saw Swirl had come to a halt. “Hey Asta! Your new apprentice is here!” Swirl shouted into the shop, her powerful voice echoing over the sounds of the machinery at work. “One moment!” an accented voice from behind a large device replied. “My goggles fell under a table.” A figure rose up that made Forge shift into a defensive stance. He nervously swallowed as the griffin came up from behind the machine and walked over towards them. The hen had thick muscles in her barrel and forelegs that rippled under her brown coat. The white feathers upon her head curved upwards at the back, making her somewhat resemble a cockatiel to the young unicorn. Tied around her chest was a sturdy black apron, filled with an assortment of tools Forge recognized. This hen was the largest griffin Forge had ever laid eyes on, chilling him to the bone. I bet a griffin like her could snap an earth pony in half with muscles like that! How can Ms. Swirl not panic at the sight of her? “Alright Asta, your new apprentice is here.” Swirl gave Forge a hard pat on the back, making him stumble forth a step. “Try not to be too hard on him. Don’t want another running away, screaming their head off.” Forge could feel the sweat pouring off his forehead in droves, only to quickly evaporate from the sweltering heat. Asta chuckled as she adjusted the goggles she set on her head. “Relax, Swirl. The only male I want screaming after working them over is my husband.” “At any rate, have a good and productive day, you two. I’ve got some books to go over.” Swirl waved as she trotted away with a relaxed smile. To Forge’s surprise, the griffin carried a warm smile as she stretched a foreleg out to him. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Iron Forge. I’ve heard so much about you.” “A… pleasure, ma’am…” Forge swallowed as he slowly placed his foreleg in her talons, barely able to keep from wincing as she closed the hard digits around them. The hen slowly gave his leg a short yet tender shake before letting go. “I’m surprised to hear that you recommended me. May I ask how you heard about myself and my work?” “Quite simple, my young friend.” Asta beamed as she slung a leg over his shoulder, pulling the unicorn along as she walked deeper into the workshop. “My precious little girl told me about you and asked if I could recommend you for Swirl.” “But who’s your—” Forge paused as he realized there was only one person her daughter could be. “You’re Erica’s mother?” “Indeed,” Asta patted him on the back and pulled away with a grin before leaning onto a workbench. “She told me you were a pony who’s a skilled smith and looking for a job, so when your resume came in, I told Swirl that I heard good things about you and here we are today.” “I… I must admit, I’m rather surprised, Mrs. Sorae.” Forge tried to hide his shock. I can’t believe this… After everything that happened with her visit, Erica still put in a good word for me… why though? “Well, we’ll have a bit before we really need to get started, so we might as well talk.” Asta gave a slight stretch from the bench. “So, do you have any questions you’d like to ask me?” “Umm… not that I can think of, ma’am. I probably will later since so much of this stuff is unlike what I’m used to,” Forge replied with trepidation as he looked around, not seeing a single grind wheel. “In that case, mind if I ask you a few questions, Forge?” Asta asked, giving her back and forelegs a stretch. “Alright…” Forge eyed the stretching hen with suspicion. “Shouldn’t be a problem.” “Thank you,” she slunk off the bench, her eyes momentarily glancing toward the furnace’s temperature gauge. “First off, where are you from originally? I’m no expert on accents, but it sounds like Trottingham to me.” “Well, sort of like that. I’m from Gallopfrey.” Forge bit his tongue, trying to keep his temper in check. “That’s what Trottingham was called before the griffin invasion.” “Ah, right. I recall Erica mentioning something about time travel or being from the distant past.” Asta clicked her tongue, sensing the bitterness in the unicorn’s tone. “So, what job did you have before this?” “At first, I was a smith studying under my father.” Forge’s reply was cooler than his previous answer as he recalled fond times spent with his sire, working on crafting tools and weapons so very long ago. “Eventually, he told me the way to best understand how to make weapons was to learn to use them, so I joined the guard.” “Ooohhh!” Forge was surprised by Asta’s awestruck tone and the shimmer in her eyes. “You were a member of the guard? That’s wonderful!” “I…” Forge stumbled back as the beaming griffin dashed up towards him, making him shiver more than he ever did in his journey to the Crystal Empire. “Thanks, I guess?” “No, no, no, no, no! Thank you!” Asta placed her talons on his shoulders, looking as she was only just able to resist the urge to pull him into a bone-cracking hug. “I have a great deal of respect for those who willingly put their lives on the line to protect and save others, the guard especially. Whenever we get an order for something that the guard needs, I always put in overtime to make sure whatever they want is absolutely perfect!” “That’s… nice…” Forge looked away as he gently pulled Asta’s talons off of his shoulders. “Ma’am… could you please not… grab me like you did again? I’ve a pretty… poor history with griffins.” “Oh?” the large hen’s head tilted in confusion. “But why w…” her words ground to a screeching halt as dawning horror stretched across her face. “Oh…. Oooohhh, right. Of course. I’m so sorry, Forge. I had completely forgotten my history lessons. I’ll try not to do that again…” Asta fidgeted uncomfortably, scratching a foreleg as she looked away in shame.  “It’s… it’s an understandable mistake, ma’am.” Forge swallowed and ran a hoof through his mane. “Should… should I find a smith’s apron?” “Right, of course.” Asta looked back up with an apologetic look. “There should be plenty of aprons on your right, under that bench.” After a quick flare of his magic, Forge had secured one of the aprons snugly around his form. “You’re looking very good in that, Forge. Now we’ve just…” Asta paused as a light bulb seemed to go off in her mind. “Oh, I just remembered something.”  The muscular hen bolted out of the room with a flap of her large wings. When she returned a moment later, she was carrying a box full of dull knives. “We got an order that just needs its finishing touches applied to them.” She laid down the box of blades before the blue stallion. “Do you think you can handle sharpening these, Forge?” Forge’s horn glowed in flame like orange as he pulled one of the blunt blades from the box. “Well, I’ve sharpened knives before, ma’am. However, I don’t see a single grind wheel here. Do you want me to just use a grindstone on them, or…” Asta chortled as she walked up to a switch on one of the strange machines. “No, no, no, Forge. We use a grind belt for this sort of thing.” With a flick of her worn talons, the machine whirred to life and the belt started to rapidly spin around.  “Watch closely, Forge,” Asta joyfully said as she lowered her goggles over her eyes and picked up one of the blades. “You’ll do the next one and I want it to be able to split hairs, understood?” Forge could only give a steady nod as he levitated a set of goggles over his eyes just as sparks started to fly from the blade Asta held. *** Forge gave a contented sigh as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Not only had he and Asta finished with all the knives, but they also worked on a longsword for a good part of the day.  Asta had taught the young unicorn about some of the many modern tools of the smithing trade, from power hammers and belt grinders to kiss blocks and slam blocks. The stallion watched as the elder griffin dunked the sword into a large container of oil. “This has been a surprisingly good day, Mrs. Sorae,” Forge said as he took in the hissing sound of the blade in oil. “Would it be alright if I were to take a short break?” The brown hen looked past Forge and hummed. “Well, I wouldn’t worry about it too much since the day’s almost over.” “What?” Forge squeaked in surprise before turning back, seeing a clock face that said it was nearly five o’clock. “My word, I hardly noticed.” “Well, you know the old saying,” Asta chuckled, giving Forge a soft smile as she pulled the sword from the oil. “Time flies when you’re having fun, and you looked like Erica whenever she was in a toy store all those years ago.”  As she placed the blade on a rack, she let out a nostalgic sigh. “They grow up so fast.” I… I guess she’s not too bad. Forge thought to himself as she watched her take a seat by one of the benches and wiping her sweat off with a towel. At any rate, it would be a good idea to get on her good side, if only to avoid being eaten. “Erica seems like a fairly nice hen.” Forge took a seat across from Asta as he tried to sound sincere. “I know she’s a pretty good cook and her boyfriend really likes her.” Much to my worry. “She… Could you please repeat that last part?” Asta hopped up from her stool, trying to keep a note of shock from her tone. “Um… Her boyfriend really likes her?” Forge’s eyebrow rose as he saw a horribly wide grin spread across Asta’s beak, making him sweat more than the all the smithing had. “Eeeeee!” Asta squealed, happily dancing in place. “My little girl’s finally got a boyfriend! This is wonderful!” The large hen lunged forward, stopping mere millimeters from Forge’s snout. “Tell me everything you can about her boyfriend! Tell me, tell me, tell me!” Her voice was overflowing with joy as he tail wagged like a puppy with a new chew toy. “Umm… well, he’s a friend of mine from the guard who—” Forge was interrupted as Asta squealed at a pitch that made the pony wonder if she could break windows with that tone. “She’s dating a guard! This is wonderful!” She hopped about before a loud whistle echoed throughout the shop. “Okay, folks! Work day’s over!” Silver Swirl’s voice came in through a P.A. system. “Have a good night and be ready for tomorrow.” “Thank you for the good news, Forge!” Asta hastily said as she hurriedly crammed her apron and goggles into a locker. “I’ve got to find out why Erica left her father and I out of the loop on this mystery beau! Bye!”  Forge watched as Asta dashed away, nearly knocking over several ponies on her way out, barely jumping out of the way of her confused co-workers. “Why do I have the feeling Verdant’s life is going to become a nightmare?” Forge sighed before slapping a hoof against his forehead.