Clang! Clang! Clang!

   The sounds of a hammer driving full force downward onto a blade echoed through the surrounding area.

     Zybwoj was a blacksmith—-his father before him had been a blacksmith as well; the profession had dated back centuries in their family.

    Supposedly, Zybwoj's great grandfather had forged a sword that was gifted to a mighty knight who had used it to slay a ferocious, fire-breathing, man-eating dragon.

     As a child, that tale dazzled Zybwoj. It captivated him.

     Now? Zybwoj had grown up. Tales of dragons and wizards… He knew they weren't true.

      Tales of sirens? He didn't believe in them.

     A powerful elf-blooded Devilborn who rode through Europe on a wyvern and swung a sword that lit up with purple flames? Zybwoj thought that was just a tall tale made up to entertain young children.

     And the biggest tall tale of them all?

    Many people—-peasants and nobles alike—-believe the tale. They talked about it day, in day out.

     They believed the royal family—-the Voit Seoboek Stragas—-that had held power of Zaeriatis for centuries, were vampires.

     Zybwoj just snorted at the thought of it.

      Vampires? Really?, He thought to himself, trying to suppress a laugh. Yeah, sure, they're pale. Yes, you barely see them out at day time. But vampires? Really? No way.

      "There's no such thing as vampires," Zybwoj mumbled to himself as he swung the hammer down on the scorching, hot blade that would eventually be a sword.

      Clank! Clank!

      Zybwoj tried to ignore the looks he got from the people who passed by him.

     Zybwoj was well aware how he looked to other people. He was aware that even though he had short hair and dressed in vests and tunics, that he was still perceived as female.

     Zybwoj forced himself to not look up from his work everytime a sound of disgust from a bystander passing by echoed through his ears.

      Everytime he heard one of these noises, he hammered down on the blade harder and harder.

      Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

      Zybwoj focused on his work and only his work. He drowned out the world around him.

      Zybwoj had always felt different. He never felt like he fit in with his sisters.

      At a young age, Zybwoj had outwardly expressed his dislike of dresses—-this had shocked his whole family.

       Little events like that in Zybwoj's childhood cemented in the minds of his family though—-so, no one was surprised with Zybwoj requested to be refered to as 'he' rather than 'she'.

      After Zybwoj came out, his father had promptly taken him outside and taught him how to properly use the anvil and hammer.

       "Excuse me?" A man's voice echoed from near the anvil that Zybwoj worked at.

       Zybwoj huffed before setting his hammer down.

      Silence echoed from the air. There was not single noise from the anvil or the hammer.

       Zybwoj looked toward the man. "C-can I help you with something? Need a sword?" He paused before adding, "Weapon requests need to be set up with my father."

      "Uh, speaking of your father…" The man shifted his weight onto his other leg. "Where is he? Can I speak to him?"

     Zybwoj looked around the surrounding area. "Uhh…" He began. "I-I don't think he's here right now… I could um take a message for you if you want… Deliver it to him when he gets back."

     The man shook his head. "No need."

     "Umm okay…" Zybwoj responded. "Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?"

     Suddenly, the man seemed to have no filter. He blurted out, "Does your father know you're out here…? …Doing this?"

      "Well, yeah…" Zybwoj picked up the hammer once again. "I'm old enough to do this job, y'know. I'm nineteen."

      "Your age isn't what concerns me," the man said quickly. "It's the fact that… you're…"

       Zybwoj stiffened. "That I'm what?"

      "A woman," the man said.

       Zybwoj exhaled quickly, before swinging the hammer repeatedly down on on the sword.

       Bang! Bang! Bang!

       I…

       Bang!

       Am not…

       Bang!

      A…

      Bang!

      Woman…

      Bang! Bang!

      I…

     Bang!

      Am…

     Bang!

     A…

     Bang!

     Man!

     "I-I'll just be going," the man said, gulping before shooting off in another direction.

      Bang!

    The hammer crashed upon the sword, shattering the blade.

     "Woah, woah, woah…" Zybwoj's father sounded. He pulled his son back. "Why don't you take a break for second?"

       Kathump. Kathump. Kathump.

      Zybwoj's heart beat fast in his ears. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered. He swallowed before continuing to apologize to his father. "I-I don't know what came over me… I-I-"

       His father placed a hand Zybwoj's shoulder. "It's okay. Now…" He smiled softly at Zybwoj. "Why don't you take a walk?"

─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─

    Zybwoj pushed on, down the gravel roadway, trying to clear his mind of his depressing thoughts.

    Why can't I just be normal?, He thought to himself. Why?

     Zybwoj continued on, not looking at anything other than the road ahead of him.

      By the time Zybwoj returned home, he began to feel light headed.

      "Are you okay?" Asked his mother as Zybwoj entered the home. "You look a little pale."

      "Y-yeah. Y-yeah," Zybwoj began to tell her. "I'm fine. I-I think I… I just need to lay down." Zybwoj took one step forward, fainting promptly afterward.