Sorren blew out a long sigh and leaned away from his work, raking the back of his hand across his forehead to wipe away the beads of sweat. Laid on the concrete table in front of him, his newest project - a sword infused with both iron and steel - was coming along nicely. He had specifically designed it so that the weapon was light and easy to swing, but so it held nasty power behind the deceiving smallness. It had taken him almost a week to forge the sword and reach the shaping step; but now that it was almost finished, he was quite proud of his work.

But it was nearing the end of the day, and Sorren hadn't eaten a proper meal since breakfast. He had been working relentlessly, impatient to complete the sword as quickly as possible. He was glad that he had nearly finalized the weapon, but he knew he couldn't finish it today. 

Huffing out another long sigh, Sorren turned away from his work and began pulling the thick gloves off his fingers. He was in charge of closing the Forgery, and the sun was slowly sinking below the horizon. Cursing under his breath, Sorren realized that it was already past closing time. 

Cringing at the harsh words that were sure to come from Kyean, Sorren speedily tidied up his forging room, flicked off the lights in the whole shop, and closed and locked the door behind him. His companions - the ones who had raised him since he'd lost his parents - were most likely already packed up and headed home-

"Sorren." 

-except Kyean, of course.

An involuntary, nervous smile turned up Sorren's lips, and he turned around to find his higher-up standing impatiently on the sidewalk. The big man's arms were crossed over his heavyset chest, and a thick eyebrow was raised in disappointment. Kyean was a muscular man, but he wasn't tall in the slightest. He barely reached Sorren's nose, and the seventeen year old was 5'10". He had a bushy black beard that matched his shoulder length hair, giving him a harsh appearance. His looks told him well - Kyean was a short-tempered man, gruff and impatient in most situations. His voice was deep and gravelly, scaring off most children that got too near - if his harsh aspect hadn't done that already.

Sorren chuckled nervously, his shoulders tensing in a guilty cringe. "H-Hello, Kyean! Still, uhm... out and about, I see?" He flashed an impish grin that only completed the look of understood wrongdoing. 

"It's far past closing time," Kyean said roughly, tapping one foot on the concrete below him. "You should be home by now, Sorren." 

Sorren lifted one arm and rubbed the back of his neck - a tic he'd developed when he was much younger. "Yes, I know," he said with a sigh. "Sorry, I lost track of time. It won't happen again." He let his hand drop and stuffed it into the pocket of his work overalls. 

Kyean gave Sorren a dubious look, his eyebrows arching high. "Do I really need to remind you that you said those exact words last time?" 

Sorren laughed again, hoping to brush off the tension between them. Though Kyean and Sorren were like brothers, there were rough and iffy times throughout their friendship that made Sorren uncomfortable and Kyean angry. 

"I remember, Ky," admitted Sorren, shortening his friend's name in a way that used to anger Kyean, but now - after years of growing nearer to the younger forger - it only softened the blacksmith's mood toward Sorren.

Indeed, Kyean's expression smoothed a bit and he blew out a long sigh. "Well, it's closed now. Go on home, kid." He uncrossed his arms and waved a short farewell as he turned around to walk away. 

Sorren lifted his hand to wave back, though Kyean's back was already facing him, and sighed once more as he took off toward home. Kyean was a nice guy - in his own way, that is - but he was probably the most insufferable of all the forgers that had raised Sorren. 

When Sorren was just three, his parents were killed in an accident that he didn't even know about. He was too young to remember, and the blacksmiths that had taken Sorren under their charge never had the mercy to explain. Though Sorren understood that they wanted to protect him from the horrid fate that his parents undoubtedly met, it hurt him that he didn't even know how they died.

Kyean was the second oldest of the blacksmiths, coming ten years short of the oldest and wisest of them; the one who had been like a father to Sorren from the beginning. His name was Orion, and it fit him well - he was as bright and as kind as a shining star, but just as brilliant and fierce. Despite his age, he was tall and muscular, with sturdy arms and broad shoulders that helped him with his work. His dark hair was peppered with grey, but he didn't let that bother him as he let it grow past his elbows. He kept a neatly trimmed beard cutting around his jaw, sharpening his already angular face. His appearance, though intimidating, spoke nothing of his personality. He was like a father to almost all who met him, but he loved Sorren dearly and made that known almost every day. Sorren wasn't sure when the old man was to retire, but he figured that it should be soon since Orion was nearing his fifty-first birth date. 

Tristan was the third oldest, coming in at thirty-three. On first glance, most would conclude that this young man was not fit for forging weapons or even fighting - he was lanky and a few inches shorter than Sorren, with bright blue eyes and short blond hair. But the people that saw him in action quickly determined that this man was everything that a fighter was to be: loyal and determined, understanding of his limits, much stronger than he appeared, and brotherly to most. He was the peacekeeper of the forgers, the relaxed one who always tried to make sure everyone was having a good time. He was encouraging and kind, especially to Sorren, who he considered his adopted younger brother. Though he was somewhat lazy, he jumped into action when it was needed and made a very appropriate leader. 

Sorren was the youngest, but only by seven years; a young man named Finn was the only one that was quite that close to Sorren's age. Finn was the spunky, reckless man of the group, with dark skin and even darker dreads. His eyes were a strange, bright orange that glittered when the sun hit them, and his smile made everyone want to join in with his triumph and joy. He was fierce and cocky, with a confident skip in his step that brought grins to the forger's faces when he opened up shop. He often pulled Sorren and Tristan into his daring adventures with him, and most of the time they all came out laughing and boasting of the things they had done. Finn was a vessel of joy and happiness, but he also was what brought Orion the most fatherly anxiety. Finn was a child at heart, unceasingly joyous and mischievous. 

They all loved Sorren as if he was their own, and Sorren treated them as such. He cared for them greatly, especially Orion, who had brought him up to be the young man that he was beginning to show now. He lived peacefully with Orion and his wife, a kind old woman named Faith who always doted over Sorren (sometimes a little too much). 

Orion would understand why Sorren was late - the old man often times got caught up in his own work, which meant that he would be able to empathize with the young teen. Orion and Faith were always understanding, no matter what Sorren did. Though they did discipline them like he was their own child, they made sure to do so faithfully and rightly. Sorren aspired to be just like them when he grew into an adult.

When he opened the door to their simple little house, Faith greeted him with her usual embrace and kiss on the cheek. Sorren had learned to like such a welcome, and he kindly returned her kiss as he wrapped his arms around her. 

"Hello, Mother," he said warmly as Faith pulled away with a bright smile, her dull blue eyes twinkling with warm happiness. He only called Orion and Faith by any sort of parental name when they were alone together - he used their names when anyone else was around. Faith and Orion didn't mind, and they relished the moments where Sorren would call them his mother and father.

"Dinner is ready," Faith said as she reached up and brushed something - probably dirt or soot - out of his frizzy curls. "Orion is already in the dining area. I bet you're hungry from all that work." 

Sorren nodded with a grin, but a moment later the smile faded slightly. "You guys waited for me?" He glanced at his wristwatch, which read nearly eight-thirty. "It's eight-thirty! Why on earth did you wait for me?" 

"Why wouldn't we?" Faith countered with a motherly smile. "Go get changed and then join us in the dining room. We might grow a bit impatient if you take too long," she added with a laugh and a wink, turning away and walked down the hall that led to the living room. 

Sorren sighed but smiled softly to himself. Of course they had waited for him - they were incredibly faithful and kind like that. He didn't know how they managed to be so welcoming and kind all the time, especially in the situations that came to them, but he wanted that kind of peace. 

"You've got five minutes, young man!" Orion's voice, strong and gravelly, called teasingly from the dining room, which was around the living room's corner. "You'd better hurry, or I might steal your plate!" 

Sorren laughed aloud and hurried through the living room and into the hallway, where his room was located, to quickly get changed and join Orion and Faith.

He couldn't ask for a better family, nor a better life.

~