Reforged [Darkrider/Invite]

Boko shook his head when Haris was done talking, replying flatly, "No, I am asking about now." He hefted the box in his hands, the contents shuffling around inside and drawing a bit of attention, "Where do you want this box, now?" He was not upset, though some might have taken it from his tone. Forward was a much better word for it. Sometimes it was an admirable trait, but more often than not it got him in trouble; he found there wasn't much he could do about it most of the time. He thought he was going to be leaving the box at the smithy's place, but now that it seemed everything was shut down he was not sure what to do next. With the sun fading fast, Boko looked to the blacksmith for instruction.

Haris shied away just a few centimeters, his expression overwhelmed by the blunt force of Boko's reply, before quickly resuming a professional attitude and a forgiving mindset. "No, we'll be closing for the night, we need to get to work on this." He replied with a bow and resumed his work with his master, soon forgetting the Gaurd's incidentally offensive demeanor.

Boko felt as if he had missed something in the turn of things, but it wouldn't do well to just stand there and be confused. Even if he wasn't bright enough to figure out what had slipped his attention, he could at least leave it behind and not dwell on it. He offered Haris and his blacksmith master both sincere nods, turning toward the door he had entered through and looking out across the now very quiet streets of Hyrule Castle Town, wondering how long it would take him to get home from here. At least getting lost wasn't really a problem. Before he left the building though, he turned for a final word to the both of them for that day, "My thanks for your help. Please send word when it is finished." He gave them both a solemn tip of his head and squeezed his way out of the blacksmith's shop into the comfortably warm temperature outside.

He would be back for his weapon the moment it was ready. The man certainly hoped having one of familiar weight back in his hands would fill that thing inside of him that felt empty. Shaking his head, he strode off into the night. He didn't know, and he didn't need to.

Throughout the night the duo worked, master and servant. It was a time of teaching a time of learning and skill. It would prevent a loss of quality, and yet an opportunity for the boy to continue furthering his skills. Haris worked the forge to melt the silver dust into a soft center that would form the bone of Boko's sword, the fire it's blood, and steel it's body. Forge had already withstood the painful heat of the furnace to create many blades, but his hands never held anything but his hammer. It was almost a prayer, the prayer of a blade worker.

The process was repetitive, and Haris became accustomed to it. The mixture of silver and steel was folded several times, removing the carbon and making the center of the blade softer than that of the outer shell, which retained the hardness necessary for maintaining a sharp and durable edge. The soft core, medium body and hard outer shell combined to become a uniformly tough, but not brittle sword. It was a sword without voids, impurities, and minimized any weak points in the blade. It felt much heavier because of it's resulting high density, which would be of little trouble to the giant who wielded it.

The process took several weeks, and during the final period, Haris' master called in several artisans to polish the blade. It's completion drew near.

The days seemed to crawl by for Boko as he waited for word on his weapon, but he made it through them all the same. Every day he checked for letters or messages that would come to him, something he got a few strange looks for the first time, but soon they got used to it enough. When he could, he would alter his route slightly to pass in front of the blacksmith, craning his neck a bit to see if they were still indeed closed. And of course they were. Boko was not particularly impatient about the whole thing--he had done his fair share of waiting--but he was still restless to get something familiar back into his hands.

The first week passed with no word, and the second came and went as well. Of some interest, Boko received word that the man he had knocked out and delivered to the Guard was actually a wanted small-time criminal, and he received a finder's fee of fifty rupees from bringing the man in. Boko wanted to check on the woman to see how she was doing, but he didn't know how well that would go, and he soon forgot anyway.

Finally, though, word arrived that the task was complete, and the moment his shift ended the large man was hurrying through the streets of Castle Town. Slowing down when he reached the door of the blacksmith shop, Boko gently grasped the handle and let himself into the shop, the day quickly ending behind him again. "It is ready for me?" he asked without much smoothness.

The apprentice quickly whirled around while the other artisans continued about their business. Staring up at Boko, Haris gave a curt nod. "Technically, yes. There's always polishing to sharpen the blade, but if you want it now, we can hand it over. If you want the polishing, you'll have to wait a few more weeks for them to refine the edge, but you'd have to wait there."

Haris master nodded at both the gaurd and the apprentice, and confirmed what Haris told Boko. The polishers, men of obviously high class refinement, turned slightly with a polite, small nod at the two.

Boko wanted to slam his fist on the counter in frustration, but he was not frustrated at these people, just the situation; Gaer had told him getting angry didn't help most of the time, though. Weeks? He had weeks, but he didn't want to spend them waiting. Someone brighter than himself may have tried to rationalize it and say that, indeed, he likely wouldn't use the weapon much even in that time. But he had no such advantage, nor would he likely listen to such words of advice if given them. Patience, though. Patience he had been taught, even if it was a hard, ongoing lesson. He gritted his teeth, the muscles in his cheek becoming pronounced as he flexed them, quite literally biting his tongue.

He took a breath, and the frustration ebbed away a bit, just enough to ask a question respectfully. "What is your opinion, blacksmith. Should I wait?" Things were much easier when he had someone to tell him what to do. Oh how he missed that.

Haris jumped, his face paling in fear in the moments that the gaurd let out his angry outburst, before the boy felt his heartbeat slowly resume back to normality, taking a deep breath and letting it out with a shuddering sigh.

"I...I would just wait a little while longer. It'll really turn out, in the end. Perhaps it might even turn out to be better than your old sword."

Caught up in his own thoughts, Boko did not catch Haris' slight jump. He did, however, listen to the suggestion the blacksmith offered him. It was not what he really wanted to hear, but he was getting used to that. Every moment he forced himself to exercise patience, that frustration chipped away a bit until it gave up and shuffled into the back of his head. He hated the fact that his own problems stood as the one criminal or ruffian he could not simply send to prison for its malpractice. There was nothing he could do, and it made him want to punch a wall. That didn't help either.

With a sigh, Boko offered a resigned nod to Haris, moving the tangled mess of his hair out of his eyes and squaring his shoulders a bit. "I will take your advice, then," he said with some resistance, "please send word when it is completely done." The day was already over outside, and he would have to sleep early. The following day was a triple shift, and those managed to exhaust even him. Raising his hand in farewell, Boko left the smithy without another word.

The polishers, once done, gave a passing, dignified glance at the Gaurd and Haris' teacher nodded at his student in approval, while Haris himself forgot to wave a hand back. The boy, in the wake of his moment of terror, had also forgot his manners. A slow sinking feeling of regret plagued him for the rest of the day before it began to fade. He had finished his part for reforging the sword of Boko...but for what had transpired this day? He was unsure if he'll ever meet the giant again, or what would happen if they did.

The next few weeks weren't quite as bad as the last, but Boko was quite glad to finally receive a message saying the blade was completed in its entirety. What was somewhat troubling, however, was the day at it arrived: the same day he found out he was being transferred out of Hyrule Castle Town. Apparently the North was finally to take a fight into the South? Boko didn't know much about that besides what he had managed to get from conversations, but the whole threat of monsters seemed very distant to the man. The idea of fighting a battle with a victory appealed to him, though, and today he had received the message for his transfer into the full army.

Boko gently opened the door, his attitude quite somber over the possibility of changing. His mind had gone back to the brief conversations he'd had with Haris, and he wondered if his life wouldn't be the only one changing. Ducking his head as he entered the blacksmith's shop, he announced his presence to the whole area, "Is it truly ready, blacksmith?" There was excitement in his words for the first time in a long time.

Haris peeked out from behind the desk.

"Yes! It is!" Apparently, the boy was just as excited as the gaurd. With great difficulty, Forge brought out the sword, in it's sheath, out to the gaurd. "Go ahead, take it out and see for yourself...I bet you could see your reflection in it."

It was clearly evident that Haris was unaware he was going to move anywhere. Today, he would have a good day. A better one than most, and it looked like nothing horrid would happen to him.

The large man accepted the blade quickly, undoing the fastenings on the sheath and pulling out the length of the blade with relative ease. For him, it was a beautiful thing to behold. The blade reflected his face easily, and the weighting seemed perfect. This was a weapon he could carry with him everywhere he went. Already it felt like an extension of himself, capable of conveying his motives and morals through that death dealing device. He held it first with one hand and then with two, feeling significant comfort with both stances. Finally, the large man nodded grimly and slid the large blade back into its sheath. He grasped the weapon with his left hand and extended his right to Haris for a handshake, "Your work is excellent, blacksmith. Thanks to you."

He paused a moment before continuing, asking the question that had been nagging him for much of the day, "The call to arms has been sounded throughout Hyrule Castle Town. Perhaps the civilians have yet to hear, but they will." The man smiled, dropping his gaze down to the weapon with fondness that seemed strange on such a large man, "I am transferring out of the city within the next week to take up the fight in the south." An awkward moment passed before he added lamely, "We could use good blacksmiths who support the Guard."

Haris inwardly beamed, glad he helped in making a blade that Boko considered worthy of praise. Outwardly, it appeared only as a small smile, though the boy did remember to reach out and get tossed around a bit by the gaurd's handshake. "It's no problem," he heard himself say.

The next news instantly shattered his happy demeanor. His smile slowly fell into a small frown upon his young face, and he looked at his master, who nodded once in confirmation. So it was decided. He and his master would head out and assist in the rearming and resupply of the Hylian military. He was still excited, partially, inside. He wondered what it was like to travel with the army, to see a thousand pikes and breastplates surge forth as a mighty formation against the evils that would harm him and his family. His family...he wanted to know if they'd come too. He would ask them to. He was sure they'd comply. They had to.

"...Okay. I'll go with you. My family will too!" He said, regaining a single shard of hope, as if what he was saying to himself would come true in real life. It was a desperate wish.

Boko frowned as he watched Haris' smile stutter, but the boy's response made him happy again. It would be good to have someone on the trail with him that he knew beyond just the Guard. Gaier had always told him it was good to know people; was this what he had been talking about? Boko hoped so. Haris would be going then, and his family too. Boko wondered what they were like, but he could wait and find out when he finally met them. Sliding the large, sheathed sword onto his back, the man reached into his coat pocket to pull out a large bag of rupees for payment. It would cover the price of labor for both Haris, his master, and the polishers they had brought in as well. Hopefully Haris would get paid fairly.

As he made to go, Boko offered Haris one final smile, "I will see you soon, blacksmith. I will be sure the Guard puts you near my unit." With a new weapon and maybe even a friend to go with it, Boko felt... new. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt as if something inside of himself had been reforged when the sword had. A new world awaited him outside of Hyrule Castle-Town.