Notes

The forge was very hot, especially from where Fit was standing next to the fire. He was using a hammer to shape a sword into its desired shape, occasionally placing it over the fire to make sure that the steel stayed moldable.

He had recently been working on small parts of of a carriage, so something simpler was a nice break for him. Being the only metalsmith in town, he was usually very busy. But from the amount of things he made, it left him and his son live comfortably; especially from the rich folks in the city. Of course there were other metalsmiths in the city, but many people still went to him if they wanted a more complicated job done reliably.

He wiped the sweat off his brow with his forearm, taking a mental step back from the work to see his progress. Picking it up and turning it in his hands, he concluded that he could start on the finer shaping. He grabbed the bucket of water and poured it over the coals of the fire, leaving a small amount in the bucket so that he could leave his hammer inside.

He leaves the sword on the table, and opens the door which leads outside. A cold, autumn breeze hurries past him, making him shiver from the change in temperature even if it isn't that cold outside. The trees have changed into brilliant shades of red and yellow, with green still sprinkled in-between.

Both Fit and his son Ramon prefer the season autumn, where the temperature is cool and everywhere you look is filled with warm colors.

Fit tilts his head up and shields his hand over his eyes to not blind himself. Judging by the position of the sun and the rumbling in his stomach it was around lunch time.

So he heads back inside─ leaving the door open so the room can cool down─ and heads through the door that leads to the home part of the building. The building is small, but split into two parts, one for the shop and forge and the other for where they live.

To the side of where Fit enters is the kitchen. Looking over the ingredients they have, he decides to make a simple jam sandwich out of the strawberry jam.

While making the second sandwich, he almost drops the bread and knife from his hands when a thud echos from behind him. He carefully sets down both items, and turns around to the door of Ramon's room. He waits for any noise of distress. But when no other sound follows, Fit continues going about his task.

He finishes the second one quickly and knocks on Ramon's bedroom door.

“Ramon, are you hungry?” He calls out. He waits a moment, but there is a lack of response. Ramon hadn’t told him that he would be going anywhere after breakfast, and just headed back to his room to brainstorm ideas for Tubbo, a friend of theirs. Maybe he’s just asleep, so Fit knocks again. This time, there is some mumbling he can’t quite make out coming from inside the room. Fit turns the handle and enters the room.

His first thought upon entering is: That’s not Ramon, because they certainly aren’t. The kid pressed against his son’s back board with his knees up to his chin has thick curly black hair, rich dark skin, and a metal leg; none of which match Ramon’s qualities. Fit frowns, glancing around the room to see if this is just one of Ramon’s friends, but he’s nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Ramon?” He asks, because the kid might know.

Though, the kid responds, “O que?” with a bit of a tremor in their voice. There’s another long pause as Fit takes in what the kid said, which definitely was not Common. Sure, there are a few families in town that speak other languages than Common, but he hasn’t heard something like this before.

Fit slowly steps into the room, careful not to startle the kid. In general though, they seem more curious than scared now, watching Fit with a slight tilt in their head. There’s a desk next to the bed, which Fit sets the plate down on. Even though it was meant for Ramon, he doesn’t want it to go to waste.

Though from the side, Fit realizes something else about the kid. They’ve got wings. They shimmer in the natural light, and remind him of a dragonfly.

Once Fit sets down the plate, he hurries out of the room. When just outside, he closes the door most of the way but doesn’t completely shut it to let the kid get out if they need.

Dragging his hands down his face, he leans over his counter and thinks about what to do next. This is not at all what he planned to do today, and he doesn’t want to just go back to working on the sword, because there is a literal kid he doesn’t know in his son’s room. That’s the other think he’s worried about. His son is missing. Fit tries to reason that he may have gone to a friend’s house without letting him know.

After another minute of thinking, he picks up his sandwich and heads to the front of the shop and out the front doors. Maybe his friend Phil will know what to do, hopefully.