Master Carras’s hoofed finger thunked lightly as he tapped against the parchment upon his workbench.
“There, young Nicholas, is the grand mine within the Forge Mountains,” the old goat rumbled, “and where the steel we’re about to use has come from.”
“But why does that matter?” asked his green-furred apprentice, peering at the map with a furrowed brow.
“It matters,” the master grunted, hefting a small chest upon the bench, “because this is some of the most precious steel in all the lands, and because it is so far away. Many hands have toiled to bring this to us, and in turn we must make them tools to continue this valuable exchange.”
Carras’s finger traced Southward along the map, following a path through foothills and through a forest, stopping at a large river. “The journey into and out of the Forges is difficult. No doubt they have their own smiths to craft weapons that will see their trades safely through the forest, but beyond those mountains, ‘tis we who forge with their steel.”
The goat could see his apprentice getting bored. Children as skilled as Nick were so often easy to lose in a lecture. He instead flicked open the chest’s latch and removed from it two ingots, which he set down in the center of the workbench.
Nick’s eyes lit up at the sight of the ingots. One was fairly standard, which he’d seen countless times under master Carras’s watch. The other ingot, however, was pristine, save for a forge brand upon its top side. As Nick moved ever so slightly, the light reflected off of its faces with a multicolored sheen the likes of which he had never seen in steel before. His curled tail began to wag.
“How is this possible?” the young apprentice remarked.
Master Carras folded his massive arms over his chest, and his mustache twitched. “‘Tis better told by the Forge Mountains’ masters, I’m afraid. Worry not about those details. What this steel can do is your lesson for today. Doubtless you have heard of the art of enchantment?”