VI.
The ugly, bronzed smith gimped to his anvil holding his newest white-hot, glowing creation.
A man with white hair and a white beard stood nearby, his arms crossed as that of a man of great power. He leaned against the wall. “So tell me, why is it, do you think, that the entire Kingdom of Filtwater is trying to solve the mysteries of life?” He had a majestic air about him and despite his age, was extremely handsome.
The smith grunted as he pounded his creation once. A clang sounded out as the anvil rocked and an infinite number of little sparks flew into the air. “No clue.” He grunted with his second blow to the still white-hot, glowing creation. The sparks rose, the clang sounded and the anvil rocked. The physique of the crippled smith strained. “Could be they’re just curious.” A third blow produced the same results as the first two.
“But people have always been curious. There’s got to be more to it.”
A fourth blow came down on the creation. The smith put it, still glowing and white-hot, into a quiver. “Could be.” The smith limped back to his fire and then returned to his anvil. Clang. Sparks jumped from the jagged rod. “But maybe not.” The smith grunted again. The force of the blow quivered through his almost incomplete body.
The majestic older man stood there thoughtfully while the smith completed his work.
“Six bolts. Was that all?”
“Yes, thank you. As for this Kingdom of Filtwater thing – I guess we’ll have to chalk it up to life’s little mysteries."
“Ah, but Zeus, mortals are one of the mysteries of life.”
A man with white hair and a white beard stood nearby, his arms crossed as that of a man of great power. He leaned against the wall. “So tell me, why is it, do you think, that the entire Kingdom of Filtwater is trying to solve the mysteries of life?” He had a majestic air about him and despite his age, was extremely handsome.
The smith grunted as he pounded his creation once. A clang sounded out as the anvil rocked and an infinite number of little sparks flew into the air. “No clue.” He grunted with his second blow to the still white-hot, glowing creation. The sparks rose, the clang sounded and the anvil rocked. The physique of the crippled smith strained. “Could be they’re just curious.” A third blow produced the same results as the first two.
“But people have always been curious. There’s got to be more to it.”
A fourth blow came down on the creation. The smith put it, still glowing and white-hot, into a quiver. “Could be.” The smith limped back to his fire and then returned to his anvil. Clang. Sparks jumped from the jagged rod. “But maybe not.” The smith grunted again. The force of the blow quivered through his almost incomplete body.
The majestic older man stood there thoughtfully while the smith completed his work.
“Six bolts. Was that all?”
“Yes, thank you. As for this Kingdom of Filtwater thing – I guess we’ll have to chalk it up to life’s little mysteries."
“Ah, but Zeus, mortals are one of the mysteries of life.”