Daisy was surprised when her metal crafting course was taught by the blacksmith from Bayou. Daisy remembered her sister telling her that no one would teach a Wildkin blacksmithing, not even Bayou’s woman smith. She stood straight and carefully checked that her hair was still within its ties.

  Among the items the Engineer provided for Daisy were a variety of hair clips and ties. She sat with Daisy and explained how each of them were used.

  “Pick the one that works the best for your hair,” the Engineer said. “You won’t want it getting in the way of your crafting.” She also showed Daisy how to wash and condition it and comb it out without pulling, so that its curls were controlled and not wild.

  “How’n you know about Wildkin hair?” Daisy asked the Engineer. The Engineer’s own hair was unforgivingly straight.

  “My sister Helen had the most beautiful curly hair,” the Engineer told her. “I was always jealous of her when we were growing up. Now I’ll have to be jealous of you.” Daisy was thrilled that the Engineer liked her hair.

  The students were standing in the entry area to the forge. The area was equipped with a set of benches against the walls. Boxes under the benches could be locked to a thumbprint. On the wall over the benches was a high shelf and wall hooks.

  “Everyone line up,” Instructor Mia told the students after she introduced herself. “I am going to come around and check your gear.”

  Dressed in her school uniform and wearing her leather boots, Daisy hoped Instructor Mia wouldn’t notice she was Wildkin and refuse to teach her. Instructor Mia was standing at the door to the forge with a large bag over one shoulder.

  “What’s your name and where are you from?” The instructor asked her when she reached Daisy.

  “Daisy,” Daisy replied. “I’m from Bayou.”

  “Daisy Wildkin,” Instructor Mia responded, matching the young girl to the name on the class roster. Daisy felt her heart sink. She forgot that Calla gave her last name as Wildkin. Now the smith knew, no matter how hard Daisy tried. “Let me see your boots.”

  Daisy pulled the cuff of her pants up and stretched her foot out. She was proud of her boots. The Engineer took her to Greenbend where a cobbler custom fitted the boots. They were a heavy leather that laced up the back, high above her ankle. The cobbler explained that anything dropped on her feet would slide off and not get caught in the laces. Daisy turned her foot to show the boot, before switching to show the other one.

  “Good,” Instructor Mia observed. “Do you have gloves?” Daisy pulled her gloves from her pocket and handed them to Mia. Mia inspected the stitching and tested the soft leather for toughness. “I don’t recognize this leather,” Mia commented.

  “The Engineer said they were made of badger,” Daisy reported.

  “Did Engineer Whitman get you these gloves?” Mia asked.

  “Calla asked her to get the things we could’n with the last of Daddy’s money. She took me to the leatherworker in Northstar but said she was no crafter but could do better than that.” Daisy knew she was talking too much. It was the gloves and the boots that convinced her to take the leatherworking course. She was ecstatic to find out that the Engineer was teaching the earthen half of it.

  “Put them on,” Mia said, handing them back. “I want to see how they fit.” Daisy slid them onto her hands and flexed her fingers. They were loose enough that she could move her fingers through her full range of motion, but not so loose that she couldn’t keep a firm grip on a tool or weapon. The Engineer told her that both were important. “I’ll have to talk to Engineer Whitman about making me a set,” Mia commented.

  “These are your safety goggles,” Mia said, pulling a set of eye protection from her bag. “Put the goggles and gloves on before you enter the forge and don’t take them off until you leave. It takes a while to get used to them, by the end of the term you won’t remember you have them on.” Instructor Mia said. “Try this apron on and see if it fits,” she said, fishing a roll of leather out of the bag.

  Daisy quickly unrolled the apron and slipped it on. The apron was a little long, reaching past her knees.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “That looks good enough,” Mia said. “The Speedwell uniforms are fire resistant, but the apron will protect you from scorch marks and sharp edges. If you’ve brought anything else with you leave it here in the entry. Between classes you can store your apron and goggles here in one of the lockboxes. Your gloves too, if you don’t need them for another class.” Instructor Mia moved on to the next student.

  Daisy put the goggles on, humming her excitement. The blacksmith knew she was a Wildkin and was still going to teach her!

  “I am going to put you into pairs. Blacksmithing is hot, tiring work. I want you to switch off work between you and your partner until you build up stamina. It is easy to get injured, especially when you get tired. Report any injury and I will see that you get treatment,” Instructor Mia told them. She circled the entry area and was standing in the doorway to the inner workshop. She began calling names.

  “Daisy Wildkin and Vicky Atwater,” Instructor Mia called. Daisy didn’t even hear the names called before her own, except to note they weren’t hers. “See this bin here on the wall?” Mia indicated a green bin attached about four feet up the wall next to the door. “It contains ear plugs to protect your hearing. Take two new ones every time you enter the workshop. Put the used ones into this bin on the way out,” she said, indicating a second bin that was painted red. “I will go over how to use them later. That will be your workbench there,” Mia told the two girls, indicating one of the workstations. “Familiarize yourself with the tools at your station. I will go over their uses in a moment.”

  The instructor called the next set of names. The inner workshop was huge. With two students at each station their class wasn’t going to use even a quarter of them. The two girls walked over to their assigned station close to the instructor's station at the front of the room.

  “I’m from Londontown. Where are you from?” Vicky asked. Vicky was younger than Daisy. Her hair was straight but wispy. It stuck out in random bits.

  “Bayou,” Daisy responded. She picked up a hammer and hefted its weight. It was really heavy. She sat down and picked up a smaller one beside it.

  “Is that in the north?” Vicky asked. She held a set of long handled tongs in her hand. She tried to pick up a smaller set of tongs with it. The second set of tongs opened up. The action changed its center of mass and it twisted out of the first tong’s grip. The second set had just as long of handles as the first, but the jaws were much smaller.

  “It’s the south most village,” Daisy answered. A set of punches was laid out beside the hammers. The size and shape of the points varied.

  “You’re from the villages?” Vicky asked. “That’s fancy. The boys in my housing unit are all from the villages. You're the first girl I’ve met from there.” She set the tongs back down and straightened out the set she dropped. She turned her attention to a large metal vise that was attached to the side of the table.

  “Instructor Mia is from Bayou,” Daisy said defensively. Nothing in Bayou was fancy, so Daisy worried that Vicky’s ‘fancy’ statement was an insult. She looked up from her inspection of the large anvil that sat opposite the vise.

  “That’s awesome,” Vicky responded. “Are you her apprentice?”

  “No,” Daisy replied. “She don’t have an apprentice.”

  “She doesn’t?” Vicky said. “Maybe you can be her apprentice. All the crafters in Londontown have so many there was no room for my brother.”

  “I can’t cause she is town folk and I am Wildkin,” Daisy explained.

  “Really?” Vicky said. She lowered her voice and said confidentiality to Daisy, “The real reason the crafters won’t take my brother is because my father works for the king.”

  “That sounds neat’n clean,” Daisy responded. “Why would crafters not like a king’s man?”

  “Because of the taxes, crafters have a heavy load in Londontown,” Vicky responded.

  “What are taxes?” Daisy asked. Vicky was flabbergasted that Daisy didn’t know what taxes were. She tried to explain it, but the young girl didn’t have that good of a grasp of it herself. Everyone in Londontown ranted about the taxes constantly, but no one ever said exactly what they were for.

  “So everyone pays coins to the king because he is king?” Daisy asked, after Vicky’s nebulous description.

  “Yes,” Vicky confirmed, “that’s it.”

  “What does a king do?” Daisy queried.

  “He makes decisions and runs things, like the healers and the guards. That’s what my father does. He guards the square entrances so that animals don’t break in,” Vicky said.

  “That must be a town thing. My family lives on the waters outside. That’s what makes us Wildkin,” Daisy replied.

  “Oh!” Vicky said, “like in Chicago.”

  “Ok everyone, listen up,” Mia called from in front of the forge. The small talk in the room vanished as everyone turned their attention to the instructor. Daisy would have to ask how Chicago was different from Londontown later.

  Mia talked about all the tools, the anvil, vise, hammers, tongs, punches and files. She went over how to light the forge and maintain the fire. She showed them how to use the bellows to make the fire hotter.

  “Blacksmithing is the working of iron,” instructor Mia told them, “but other metals can also be forged.” She went on to talk about different metals that could be forged. What temperatures they needed to be heated to to work and how strong and durable the finished products were.

  Finally they started on their first project.