Allow me to introduce you to Ben Vulcan, he left a legacy that shaped the world of craftsmen. When he was a young man, no older than 25, he lived alone. His father was a God, one who no longer existed in this world. Some said that he was the spitting image of his father, his flame red hair covering not only his head but his entire body. His chiseled muscles that bulged from beneath the right sleeve of his shirt spoke to how hard he worked as a smith. His left arm seemed dwarfed in comparison to his right arm. Before he became known as a titan in the crafting business he was just a nameless smith.
His workshop was little more than a shack behind the local bakery in the small town he lived in. Day and night he pounded away, shaping metal and dreams alike. Although he had never sold a weapon, he made enough money from making and repairing tools for the locals. Although these kinds of odd jobs didn’t pay well he never went hungry, the bakery was always kind enough to give him the stale bread. One day, he was working hard trying to master a new set of enchantments when his latest project exploded in his face quite literally. He was thrown from his workshop and plowed right into a potential customer.
“I’m so so sorry, I made a mistake while learning a new enchantment.” He cried out, kowtowing on the ground.
He was certain that whoever it was that came to his little workshop would turn away immediately after such an incident.
“Does that mean you could repair my sword for a discounted price?” A voice like silk wafted past his ears.
He looked up to find the potential customer for the first time. It was a woman, she had a large nose and square chin but those gorgeous raven black locks that fell down to her muscular shoulders made his heart skip a beat. He quickly agreed to a discount without a second thought about it. She presented her sword to him and he frowned. The entire blade had cracks lining it and a huge chip was removed from the side. It looked as if the blade had struck stone.
“What did you do to this thing? It would probably be better to just get a new sword.” He said solemnly.
“I can’t!” She shouted quickly.
He was taken aback by her quick dismissal, he figured the sword was very important to her.
“I can fix it, but it will take me about a week. What’s your name? I’ll send it to you when I am finished.” He said with a smile.
“My name is Cecilia Raven, I’ll be staying at the Red Robin Inn.” Her voice was like a summer breeze in his ears.
For the next 5 days, he worked nonstop to repair the sword given to him by the woman named Cecilia. When his arm went numb, his passion pushed him forward. He finished the sword 3 days faster than he originally expected. Holding up the blade to the light he was excited to return it to it’s master. Her visage did not leave his mind all week and he was excited to see her once again. Now standing in front of the Red Robin Inn, he took a deep breath. He had decided he would ask her out once he returned the sword.
Just as he was about to step around the corner to the front door to the establishment he heard a familiar voice coming from the window beside him. He stole a cautious glance through the window and felt his heart drop. Cecilia Raven laid naked before him on the bed, beside her was a large and handsome man who was equally unclothed. They were having a discussion about something that filled Ben’s heart with rage.
“You seriously got him to do it for a discount?” The man chuckled.
“Oh he was so adorable, he clearly had a crush on me. It wasn’t hard to convince him to do it for dirt cheap. I’m so glad I went to that dump before trying the other craftsmen. I just hope he doesn’t fuck it up.” She laughed.
Ben could feel something spark within his heart. A flame unlike any other he had ever felt before burned in the depths of his soul. It scorched his heart, reducing his love to ashes. The sword within his hands began to glow orange as his hand gripped it tighter. The window exploded along with the wall beneath it. He stepped into the room and looked down at the pair coldly. He gripped the sword in his muscular arm and the entire blade ignited with his rage. The naked pair didn’t even have a chance to resist. He cut them both down in an instant and watched their bodies combust and burn.
As the fire stopped burning so did the rage in his heart. He looked down at what he had done and panic spread across his face. He had to escape, to disappear before he was captured and executed for this. He returned to his workshop and collected what he could, he didn’t have much money left but he was sure it was enough to buy passage to leave. As he was collecting his things he noticed his vision began to blur. He didn’t even notice that he was sobbing. He screamed and fire stretched to every corner of the workshop, lighting the whole place ablaze.
He walked away as the workshop and the bakery went up in smoke. He came across a merchant who was willing to trade passage for what little money Ben had left. He watched from the back of the wagon as the black pillar of smoke rose slowly in the distance. His heart felt empty and all he had left in his possession was the hammer his father left him.
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