Chapter 34: Chapter 34: Three fours are good because there are three, but bad because they’re fours. It’s a wash

Honestly, it all doesn’t look so bad.

 

Sure, the wood is running low, since his stockpiles are either burnt through or they had been flooded by Rhine’s spell. Any damp wood left over after the frog’s attack is next to useless for what he needs it for, until it has dried out again properly. Sure, the window is still broken and he doesn’t quite have the money together for its repair yet, despite selling all of his daggers. But by tonight, he will. A few more daggers and he’ll have it together.

 

But this table, this favorite table of his, which is sitting next to the broken window, it is full. It is as full as it might have once been on a day like this, some ten years ago.

 

Obscura sits next to him. Rhine and Sockel are on the other bench as they all sit there together in the same booth. Hineni stares at the fullness that has found him. He lowers his gaze towards the spread. They can’t buy their dinner from the guild anymore, so he simply opted to go to a new place, down by the dungeon. There are lots of street merchants there. You can buy just about anything from them and that’s exactly what he did. Perhaps he had splurged a little more than is reasonable or responsible, given their situation. But given the cold bite of the winter air, which is fighting a winning battle against their heating system, a good meal is just what the four of them need, not only to keep their strength, but to keep their warmth as well.

 

Hineni takes off his gloves and scarf, lowering his hand once to hold Obscura’s beneath the table. She hoots, sitting upright in a quick jolt, but then lowers herself again, clicking excitedly with her mouth as if she were in the form of an owl and doing so with her beak. A taloned hand rubs his, down below where nobody can see them doing so. It’s warm.

 

“Let’s eat,” says Hineni, looking at the oddity that has befallen him.

 

- People.

 

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He’s kind of sick of iron daggers, honestly.

 

Hineni hammers away, striking the next blade into shape. But they’re easy money. They’re quick to make and that’s what matters right now. Quantity over quality.

 

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“What about this?” asks Rhine. Hineni turns his head, looking at the boy. He has a mold made out of clay, in the middle is an indent of what looks like half of a dagger. Rhine sets it down. “We can just take this one,” he says, pulling a second one over. “And then this one and we’ll stick them together,” he explains. “Then we seal them, rekindle them and just pour some metal into the top here.”

 

Hineni thinks for a moment. It’s not a bad idea. He wanted to try making weapons with molds anyways. It could offer a very interesting avenue of production. Though, it begs the question if it’s even economical at this scale?

 

In order to make one dagger with a mold, they needed two mold halves, which Rhine first needs to make. Those then need to be fired and hardened, then sealed together and then refired. Only then they can start filling them with metal. Likely, they’d have to break the molds afterwards to get the ’completed’ dagger out at the end too, so it would be a one-time use each time. Plus then they still need to sharpen and polish the blades.

 

“- It’s just not practical for daggers, Rhine,” says Hineni, shaking his head and explaining as much. “In that time, I could already get started on my second dagger here,” notes the man. “It could be a good idea for larger weapons though.”

 

Rhine shakes his head. “That’s just it!” he says, clenching his fists. He points at himself with his thumb. “I can make the molds while you keep making your daggers, like that!” says Rhine. “Then when you’re done, you can just pour the metal in yourself and by tomorrow, there will be three daggers ready ’for free’!”

 

Hineni observes the boy. That makes a lot of sense, actually. Of course, the molds can just sit by themselves and then Rhine has work too. He nods. “Make one. We’ll test it first,” says Hineni. “But I’ll handle the metal. You’re not ready.”

 

Rhine nods and Hineni watches him set to work. The boy is more than eager to prove himself and honestly, in Hineni’s eyes, he’s really managing.

 

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Hineni gives the glass-worker his five-hundred Obols.

 

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