Knowing where I could find the craftsman’s workshop I left the town through the south gate. As I took my first steps outside the walls, the heat of the summer enveloped my skin with such intensity that I was grateful I had left my armour behind.

Having followed the directions of the people I had met along the way, a small one story building appeared in the distance. Although at first glance it was no different to any other house in the middle of the meadow, the cart and anvil in front of it indicated otherwise.

As I approached I noticed a man who did not appear that much older than me, and a young girl around ten years old, sitting on a wooden bench by the entrance of the workshop. The shade cast by the building protected them from the rays of the summer sun.

“Good day,”, I greeted him. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for the master craftsman.”

The young girl stared at me, she was holding a slice of watermelon in her hands.

“Ah, then you’ve come to the right place,” replied the man with a smile. “However, I’m afraid the craftsman is not in his workshop at this moment, so you will have to wait for a bit. You are free to join us while we enjoy this nice breeze, of course.”

With a nod I thanked him and took a seat next to the girl, who had lost interest in me and continued slowly eating her watermelon.

“Pardon me, but what kind of man is the craftsman?” I enquired after a few minutes.

“Hmmm, I see you are new around here. What have you heard about him?”

“Well, the soldiers spoke of him as a fool, as someone who should not be trusted. They even recommended I wait for the traveling blacksmith instead of coming here,” I replied.

“I see,” he said. He let out a sigh.

“However,” I continued. “The townsfolk speak of a skillful and kind man, willing to help anyone that asks.”

“Interesting,” he said. “You have heard two completely different stories, so let me ask you: what do you think?”

I was taken aback by his sudden question.

“I… haven’t met him yet, so I won’t know for sure until I have. Nonetheless, if he is how the townsfolk describe him, why would he be out here? I believe it might be more profitable for him to have his workshop in town. Surely the army would hire him.”

“I wonder,” he replied.

The man paused and stared at the horizon. At that moment, the little girl jumped from her seat.

“I’m done!” she shouted while she turned to look at the man. “Thanks for the watermelon, Uncle!”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Ruby. Now-” he said as he stood up, “about that bucket your father asked for, let me go get it for you.”

He opened the gate of the workshop and disappeared inside. I slowly stood up and stared dumbfounded at the open gate. Before I could approach, the man emerged from the building holding a wooden bucket with metallic reinforcements and offered it to the girl.

“Tell your parents I will try to visit tomorrow, alright?”

“Alright! Thank you, Uncle!” she replied before dashing off towards the town.

After waving the little girl goodbye, he crossed his arms and stood in silence looking in her direction.

“I-, you-” I started.

“Ruby is the daughter of my childhood friend,” he said turning back to look at me. “While he and his wife tend to their family business she usually comes to play around in my workshop.”

As he looked at me I felt as if he was a completely different person. The man in front of me was not the laidback person I had been talking to moments before. His aura had completely changed.

“You are the craftsman,” I finally managed to say.

“I am.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

“I was curious. Not many soldiers come to my workshop, and those that do tend to make demands of me just because they are soldiers.” His words left me confused.

“Yet,” he continued. “I can tell that you are different from those who have come visit me in the past.”

“Why is that?”

“Firstly, because you are not wearing your armour. Almost every soldier in the garrison will wear their armour anywhere they go, as if it were a sign of power. But you… the only thing telling you apart from a civilian is that scabbard with the seal of the kingdom embedded in it. Moreover”, he paused. “you came here even though the other soldiers advised you against it.”

“Why wouldn’t I come here?” I asked.

“Precisely!” He walked forward and once again stared into the meadow that extended in front of him. “You see, with time I’ve come to realise that people who seek power expect others to look and act like them. I am not a warrior, let alone a soldier. I don’t seek war, fame, nor fortune. Those who do, have been corrupted by greed: they can’t accept things as they are, they expect more…” He started laughing. “But you… I can see you have a good heart. So I will give you a piece of advice, if you’ll accept it?”

“Of course!” I replied, eagerly.

As he turned to look at me, I felt as if time had frozen still. The breeze had stopped and there was no sound to be heard, except the words that came from this man I had just met. “Let nothing corrupt your good heart.”

With those words, the craftsman walked past me and into his workshop. “Now, let’s take a look at that sword of yours, shall we?”