Frosted Iron

It was only fair that Jigano asked after the details of a history that had been so carefully hinted at, but never revealed. Despite the time that had passed, the bond that grew between them, there was still a shot of ice that went through his heart. It was an old fear, irrational, but it was still potent enough to keep Caiside silent longer than he would be usually. If he didn’t tell Jigano now though, then when? He didn’t know what ailed him, how it would progress. If he would get another chance like this. ”There is much they did.” Caiside began, his hands moving stiffly. ”We... the North may have incited things, raided along the edges of its lands, but they were the ones who made it a war. And they didn’t even have the decency to end it.” He laughed humourlessly, and shook his head. ”It is a long story, if you want the details.” It was a cop out, but Caiside didn’t know how else to tell the story but from the beginning, and he couldn’t start that without giving the other man at least a chance to opt out. Working with the forge brought Caiside a simple comfort. It was familiar, despite the shaking in his hands and the irritation bubbling under his skin. He could be calm teaching, and working, and listening to his friend speak about his own history. Caiside stayed quiet, watching the colour of their heating metal while he listened. ”It sounds as if your father and I would get along.” He gazed sidelong at Jigano and smiled gently, before burning his eyes back to the fire. ”I taught myself to make swords, but blades were one of the first things I learned to make.” So saying he drew the piece of metal from its heat and began to shape it, moving slowly so he could show his technique. ”Dis you spend much time with him in his forge?” Caiside I have never been allowed to be Holy, I have never been forgiven for Wanting;