The heavy rain that raged all night ceased at dawn. Riftan washed his face with the rainwater from the trough and blinked his stiff eyes. Last night was a nightmare as the hut creaked and groaned all-night-long against the violent wind that blew like a flying blade.

He looked up at the bright sky that had no trace of last night’s savage storm and wiped the water dripping from his face with his ragged sleeves.

Even though his stepfather has been repairing their house since spring, the hut is ramshackle; when the rainy season comes, turbulence is inevitable. They may need to repair it with their hands again before the rest of the season comes.

Riftan’s eyebrows furrowed as he thought of how much money he must earn to buy as much wood needed to fix it. At that moment, a disconcerting voice screamed from behind him.

“There’s tons of work to do, what are you standing around there for?!”

He gazed at the forge as the sound of hammers against steel rang loudly. Through the wide-open door, he saw a swarthy red face. If the man was only a short distance away, he would’ve run to punch Riftan in the head. He hurriedly lifted the sack lying next to him.

“…I was just about to go.”

Riftan carried the sack on his shoulders that weigh about as heavy as him and strode forward. The blacksmith shot him a hateful glance and went into the forge ahead of him. He followed him quietly, gazing at the huge fortress that towered over the lush forest.

It has been several months since he started as an apprentice in Croiso Castle’s smithy, but his mind was never where he wanted it to be. Rather than being in the smithy, he was better off removing dung from the horse stables like he used to. Although he was constantly busy working in the stables, the amount of work he had to do in the smithy was beyond imaginable.

Every dawn, he had to dig for piles of firewood, burn charcoal in a kiln, and hammer iron ore red until his shoulders feel like splitting. After that, he must tend constantly to the fire in the furnace, so that the flames would soar.

During the first few weeks, he suffered from blisters that grew on his palms and burns in several parts of his body that sometimes he had thought of beating his stepfather who forced him to be in such awful place. However, after seeing the man’s blunt face, the resentment that swelled up to his neck disappeared like his feelings were all a lie.

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As Riftan recalled the image of his stepfather who filled his stomach with nothing but thin, cold stew, he slammed the sack roughly. The words of his stepfather the day he dragged him to this place rang in his ears.

“A peasant farmer like me lives in destitute all his life until the day he dies. At least a blacksmith lives a better life.”

His stepfather who uttered those words dug up a dirt in their hut’s backyard and pulled out a black, rotten leather pouch. Inside it was the dowry he received when he married Riftan’s biological mother.

Fourteen Dirhams. His stepfather offered six of them to the swine-like blacksmith and pleaded with a bow to mentor Riftan. Remembering how ridiculous it was, Riftan spat out profanity from his mouth.

If I had that amount of money, I would have used it to build a new house…Why would he care for a stranger’s bastard who didn’t share a single drop of blood with him.

“Hey! Greenhorn! Bring more charcoal!”

Riftan woke up from his thoughts at the sound of the loud shout. He ran with a barrow filled with crushed charcoal and poured it to the furnace, then pushed the bellows as hard as he could, making a golden flame soar to the ceiling. From then on, he didn’t have time to be lost in thought.

He must obey the instructions of over thirty men yelling, “Do this, do that,” and ran never-ending errands around the large forge, carrying all sorts of load.

Only six of the blacksmiths were veterans, the rest were junior apprentices who came to learn like him yet all of them treated him like a servant.

Riftan noticed how he was the one pushed to do all sorts of chores, yet he couldn’t protest. The blacksmith who took him in neglected him while the others were displeased at the fact that he is a biracial boy. Thus, he couldn’t learn how to properly make a horseshoe.

Riftan clenched his teeth. He couldn’t quit despite being heartbroken that his father paid silver coins to let him learn, yet he is being treated like a slave. He swallowed his grievous resentment down his stomach and hammered until his shoulders were sore.

When it was time for him to go home, he didn’t have an ounce of energy left to vomit any swear word. In the stream, he rubbed his face and hands that had become charcoal black and washed his mottled clothes. Then, he roughly wore his dripping clothes again and turned towards the direction of his house. Suddenly, he found something sparkling in the rippling water.

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He bent over and picked it up. A white pebble the size of his thumb shone against the light. Riftan, who was fiddling with the peculiar, white, smooth stone, placed it inside his clothes and strode forward. Regardless of exhaustion, his vitality instantly sprung from somewhere.

He walked through the dense forest and headed towards the castle’s courtyard. It was long until a magnificent structure emerged against the trees.

His eyes searched whilst picking up firewood from the storage next to him. After a while, he was able to spot a little girl squatting and picking up something in the corner of the outbuilding’s garden. Seeing her made the building lump in his heart melt.

Riftan walked slowly, pretending to pick up another piece of firewood. Aside from him, there were several other servants who came to get firewood and he blended in, so she didn’t seem to think anything strange about him approaching.

However, the black hound that followed the little girl around, showed vigilance and its ears immediately perked up. Rfitan, who was careful not to approach closer than necessary, carefully laid down the pebble he had found in front of the girl.

He then moved away quickly as if he had another business to do. A moment later, he looked over his shoulder, seeing her pick up the pebble he laid and tuck it inside her colorful pouch.

Riftan stepped towards the city’s gates, swallowing a laughter that seemed to erupt from his chest. He couldn’t shake the thoughts of how he acted like an idiot. Why in the world did that felt good? Riftan, fleeting away from the castle in a lighter pace laughed bitterly instead.

He couldn’t understand himself. Every day I go around the castle just to see that girl before I go home…Am I crazy?

She wasn’t even a child he could play with. She is the daughter of the duke, and a peasant like him was not allowed to speak to her unless he is spoken to.

If someone notices what he’s doing, he will surely be ridiculed as impudent. Suddenly, begrudging feelings steamed out and he kicked the ground with force.

Anyway, she must have not even noticed his existence. She must not know that he’s occasionally throwing strange colored feathers or pebbles in the garden. While she’s in bed, does she wonder how unusual it is to find such things in a garden? …You wouldn’t even know what sort of crown she made with those, or if she even made use of what you gave, what gives you the audacity to be curious about it?

Seeing the dilapidated hut at the bottom of the hill, Riftan snapped back to reality. She wasn’t a girl who lived in a neighbor’s house. She is the daughter of the duke who ruled this huge manor, and he is the lowest of his subjects.

It wasn’t long after he worked in the castle’s stables that he took notice of her. As he carried a loaded barrow towards the barn, he saw her sitting in the backyard of the outbuilding.

He immediately noticed the oldest little girl of Duke Croix and briskly tried to shrug it off, but his legs didn’t move for some reason.

The doll-like little girl hugged the black hound tightly with her stubby arms and buried her face against its velvety fur. Seeing how she clings to a dog bigger than him, his body stiffened, and his heart felt sore for unknown reasons.

He noticed that she wanted to be embraced by someone and her loneliness felt as vivid as his. He used to seek aid for his solitude that way too, burying his face against the nape of a foal.

Why does a girl with hundreds of servants seek comfort from a hound? Is she as lonely as I am? Having such thoughts run in his mind, he felt an urge to comfort her presumptuously.

It was thoughts that a passing dog would laugh at. Who will comfort who? He is a servant who removed horse dirt from stables, and she is the daughter of a duke.

Perhaps, she lived a life so luxurious that is beyond what he could imagine. A banquet hall decorated with marbles, golden chandeliers, soft fabrics, and sumptuous food that he will never be able to touch in his lifetime…

She sleeps in a soft, cloud-like bed made of feathers and she can eat and drink as much as she wants. She will never experience the pain of working until the skin of her palms peel till the day the dies.

He shook off the strange feelings he had towards her and congratulated himself for successfully convincing himself to walk away. However, after that day, he couldn’t help but chase her with his eyes every time he passed by the outbuilding.

Seeing her shoulders drooping or the back of her shaggy head made him feel sick, her smile made him feel better. He also became worried if she was sick somewhere whenever she’s not around. Unexpectedly, she has become someone who provided him healing at the end of the day.

Last night, as Riftan bagged charcoal from the kiln into a sack, he mocked himself. Although he knew that on one hand, he was just creating a comfort zone to escape from the harsh reality.

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He’s just protecting himself at will, and the girl might not even be lonely at all. Her sad figure must be all but a delusion he’s having, and she will have nothing but fun and joyful days ahead of her. Thinking that bringing her shabby gifts daily brings her joy is all but for vain.

She can get as many jewels as she wants if she wished for it. In just a few years, when she grows up a little more, she will forget the fact that she used to collect pebbles and all these kinds of nonsense.

He tightly tied the sack filled with black charcoal and tried erasing the red-haired girl who kept flickering in his head. Thinking of her is only an illusion that’s made for him to feel like he wasn’t alone.

Riftan pulled out firewood from the storage and stacked his sack in a barrow. He then grabbed the handles and pushed his load forward. He did the same routine over and over without stopping that he was able to transport all the charcoal before the sun reached the middle of the sky. With his raggedy sleeves, he wiped his sweat and pumped water from the well to quench his thirst.

The only fortunate thing about his damned life was that he was stronger than his peers. He couldn’t get the nutrition his body needed so his limbs and legs were thin, but he was tall and big enough to meet the height of boys two or three years older than him.

From eight years of age, he never suffered from any major illness despite being subjected to rigorous labor. There were times he would hope he’s sick when faced with a mountain of work but seeing people dying from unknown causes made that thought disappear.

If he gets sick, it’s all over. He couldn’t afford to go to a healer, let alone a priest, nor couldn’t expect someone to nurse him back to health because taking a day off work also means starving on that day.

Most poverty-stricken people just leave the sick unattended until they die, even their family. There’s no other way or choice for them anyway.

Merchants, craftsmen, and architects were better off, but tenant farmers such as they are, had to pay enormous amounts of rent every season.

It was common for peasants to renounce their freedom and become enslaved serfs because they couldn’t afford to pay taxes. Despite being able to pay taxes, putting food in the stomach is another difficult burden.

The taxes and rent implemented by the Duke of Croiso was particularly expensive. It wasn’t only once or twice did he see his stepfather haggling with the tax collector.

The taxes and rent implemented by the Duke of Croiso was particularly expensive. It wasn’t only once or twice did he see his stepfather haggling with the tax collector.

Whenever his father opened his mouth, it would be complaining about the expensive rent and moving to a land with lower taxes and rent. However, Riftan was well aware that there was no way that they’ll be able to leave the Croiso Manor.

Outside the walls were forests and lands infested by horrible monsters and it would require at least thirty silver coins to hire escort mercenaries to bring them to safety.

Even if he worked and farmed his whole life, he would never be able to save that amount of money. The only way to escape was to risk his own life, but Riftan knew that his stepfather doesn’t have the guts to do so.

Riftan stretched his waist and massaged his throbbing shoulders. Despite all the profanity that his stepfather spat out complaining about the hefty rents and taxes, he went out at dawn everyday carrying a plow to the fields. There was no other choice for him. He’ll wake up and do the same work over and over until he’s old and ill, until his body can no longer work.

It was not difficult to picture his stepfather lying on the bed, waiting helplessly for the day that he dies. And soon, it will be him. Like most peasants, his life will end that way too.

Riftan’s mouth twisted bitterly as he washed his soiled hands with the water from his canteen. But he was born strong, he will be able to withstand the hardships for at least thirty more years.

If he’s fortunate, he might even be a blacksmith like his stepfather intends for him to be. However, at this rate, it was a shot to the moon for him to become a master at the craft.

There was a distinct hierarchy in the smithy. The blacksmiths of highest rank are the ones who make armors and weapons, the ones in the middle rank make the cauldrons, pots, doorknobs, and candlesticks; the rest had to hammer horseshoes all day long.

He was very aware that his best chance is only up to becoming a middle-ranked blacksmith. Despite being skillful with handling tools, he could never even have the chance to hammer a metal of high-quality.

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The tension and competition between the apprentices are very fierce and the senior blacksmiths have already handpicked their successors, and so far, he has failed. Perhaps, he will be working errands in the smithy for the rest of his life.

“Still, it’s better than being a peasant farmer…”

Riftan washed his face with cold water to reinvigorate his mind, rocking his head back and forth, thinking of ways to escape his damned poverty-stricken life. However, there simply is no good future that can be drawn for him.

To add to his list of misfortunes, he’s an illegitimate mixed-race child, born out of the blood of strangers. Even if his family were able to gather capital and start a business, it would easily be eradicated, having a Catholic-dominant manor that controls the trade. Besides, who would want to buy from him.

He rubbed his neck, which had become sticky from sweat, and went into the smithy. The blacksmiths were already gathered, ready to start the day and setting fire to the furnaces. One of them looked at him with billowing eyes.

“What in the world are you standing around for?!”

The man pointed to the huge bellows made of dragon’s wings and ordered him to operate it. Riftan sighed and began to pull the thing up and push it down repeatedly. Soon, the spacious, cluttered smithy was steaming with muggy heat.

Riftan thought that it was a wonder how his lungs didn’t give up yet. The reverberating sound of the hammers hitting iron here and there could make him deaf. He smiled bitterly.

What do you need to worry for?

It would have been better if that happened, then he wouldn’t have to hear his neighbors gossiping about his illegitimacy and race when he passes by.

Riftan’s jaw was rigid, and his teeth were tightly clenched as he moved his arms up and down with all his strength. After fanning the furnace for a long period of time, a glowing red-hot stream of iron flowed out, it was then placed in a mold to harden and then on top of an anvil, to be pounded with a hammer to flatten its shape.

When the wrought iron has been made, the blacksmith takes it to be polished further and made into things such as horseshoes, spurs, and axes. This process was repeated throughout the day.

“Hey! We’re out of lime! Didn’t I tell you to get enough?!”

Riftan was in the middle of working on the bellows when someone pulled his ear from behind. Riftan lifted his head, swallowing back a groan. The bearded man squeezed his face hard with one hand and turned his head to one side of the forge.

“We only have half a bag left! Bring more, and hurry!”

Riftan shook off the man’s hand and looked at him fiercely. The blacksmith’s face immediately turned red from anger.

“What’s with those eyes? Are you trying to rebel now?”

As if the man was showing off his solid biceps, the product of hammering all day, he shook his clunky fist and flapped his arm. Riftan had been hit the other day, beaten to the temple which caused him to vomit all day long. He took a step back.

“Are you not going to bring it?”

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Riftan strode outside before the man could hit him on the back of his head. However, while dragging the barrow to the warehouse, Riftan’s boiling anger didn’t subside. There are twenty-four apprentices, why is it that when something runs out, he’s always the one at fault?

“Fuck*ng jerks…”

He groaned and spat on the ground, then dragged the rattling barrow to a shorter path. Walking through the thick forest, he heard a dog barking from somewhere. He paused on his tracks and looked around but could not see a dog in sight. He frowned, left the barrow, and headed to the direction of the sound.

As he jumped over the lush bushes and passed three or four beautiful trees, he saw a black hound barking aggressively at something, its posture in full guard.

If his eyes weren’t fooling him, that hound is the loyal watchdog of the Duke’s eldest daughter.

What the hell are you doing in this place? Where’s your master?

Riftan’s eyebrows were creased, then suddenly his eyes widened at what he saw.

The dog was barking at a massive lizard-like creature that was about 1 kvet long, its tongue was slithering.

Riftan instinctively lowered his body against the ground and observed the creature’s appearance. It was the first time that he saw such a thing in his life. Its whole body was wrapped in thorny scales and its large, menacing mouth had two long, needle-like protruding fangs.

Are there other monsters hiding?

As Riftan’s thoughts were running, the dog ran towards the lizard. Then, the lizard struck the hound with its long tail and bit the hound’s neck.

As he was staring stiff and blankly at the scene, something popped out of the bushes. Riftan’s breath hitched. The young girl of the Croiso family grabbed a long branch and began to smash the lizard’s body.

Riftan, who has never seen such a baffling scene, swears to the heavens that it didn’t sink in him. He was so perplexed that his body didn’t move and stiffened further.

The lizard swung its head, threw the hound, and ran straight to the girl. Upon seeing what’s about to come, Riftan picked up a stone under him and ran like lightning to her side.

As he struck the pointed stone to the neck of the monster, its body, thicker than Riftan’s forearm, convulsed violently. It spewed out an ear-splitting scream, threating with its venom.

He escaped behind the creature and threw stones as hard as he could. A big stone then struck the creatures’s throat, making the monster struggle and wriggle vigorously with its long tail.

Riftan hurriedly picked up fallen branches and stabbed them into the creature’s stomach. After a while, the monster’s body turned limp. He kicked it and took a ragged breath.

His heart drummed loudly against his chest, like a horseshoe being hammered, and cold sweat ran down his back like a waterfall. If he could, he wanted to lay the girl face down against his lap and hit her buttocks as punishment.

Riftan glared at the girl ferociously. But, as she saw her sitting down weakly on the ground, all his anger washed away and was replaced by fear.

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He hurriedly sat down in front of her, inspecting her whole body. Blood was oozing out of her forearm. She was bitten by that godless creature. Without sparing a thought, Riftan loosened his belt and tied it tightly around the upper part of the wound.

Then, the little girl leaned her head back as if to sleep and burst into tears. He squeezed her arm from top to bottom, her arm was less than a handful against his palms. The girl cried and pounded on his limbs.

“A…ow!”

“I have to get the venom out. Stay still!”

After all this is done, his throat might be cut for contempt, but for now, there’s no one to witness. He screamed at her to be quiet, placed his mouth on the wound, sucked out the venom-infected blood and spat it on the ground.

After doing the process several times, he embraced her little doll-like body and carried her eagerly towards the castle. She burst into tears as her eyes drooped.

“My…Puppy…”

He looked over his shoulder, freaking out. The dog was lifeless and wasn’t moving. Riftan bit his lips and moved again, but the stubborn girl pulled on his hair.

“My…Puppy too…You have t-to take my puppy too.”

“I’ll bring him to you later.”

He urged hi