Hunnt rose before dawn, the sky still a soft gray over Ravenshire. Today was different—not Suro, not fist style, not Tekkai training—but the chance to step into the heart of the village's forge. At ten years old, his mind was hungry for challenges, eager to absorb the knowledge of a craft as precise as combat itself.
"Grandpa… may I try learning blacksmithing?" Hunnt asked politely, bowing slightly as he spoke. Respect and determination shone in his amber eyes.
Dom regarded him thoughtfully, fingers stroking his chin. "Hmm… you've grown enough to handle the forge safely… I suppose I'll allow it. But fire doesn't forgive mistakes, boy. You promise to be careful?"
"I promise!" Hunnt said with bright enthusiasm.
Dom led him down the cobbled street to the village blacksmith shop. The air grew heavy with the scent of molten metal, coal, and sweat. Behind the anvil stood a broad man, muscles corded under soot-streaked arms, hammer in hand.
"Coerl, this boy wants to learn blacksmithing," Dom said.
Coerl turned, studying Hunnt with narrowed eyes. "And you want to learn, lad?"
"Yes, sir!" Hunnt replied eagerly, his posture straight and alert.
Coerl chuckled, the deep sound echoing off the forge walls. "Very well, lad. Blacksmithing isn't just hammering steel—it's understanding weight, balance, patience. Absorb what I teach first, then your hands will follow your mind. One day, you'll shape metal like a natural."
Hunnt knelt attentively, eyes wide as he observed every strike, every flick of the wrist, every subtle nuance in Coerl's motion. The blacksmith explained: how metal behaves under heat, the rhythm of hammering, how to judge resistance and temper.
"Observe, lad. Feel the metal. Notice its resistance. Don't rush—first, understand it," Coerl instructed.
Hunnt didn't touch the materials yet. He memorized each motion, each correction, learning the thought process behind every strike. Coerl's eyes widened slightly.
"By the gods… lad, you're absorbing this faster than I expected. Most apprentices need weeks to notice half of what you already see."
Hunnt smiled faintly. "I just want to learn, sir. I want to understand how a blacksmith thinks, not just what they do."
Coerl grinned, warmth creeping into his voice. "That's the spirit. Step by step, lad. You've got the mind of a blacksmith, and one day, your hands will follow it perfectly."
---
While Hunnt absorbed every lesson, the village chief convened a private meeting with the elders. Hunnt remained unaware.
"Remember," the chief said, "the villagers must never reveal the full extent of Hunnt's training—or the truth about his parents' deaths. His skills are a secret, and he must be protected. His father saved this village long ago; no one would betray him now."
Corwin listened quietly, understanding the weight of the responsibility. He had never revealed why he trained, why he pushed Hunnt to grow stronger, or why he sought to protect the village. He admired Hunnt's parents deeply, especially his father, and the chief's words reminded him to preserve the boy's innocence.
Pyro, meanwhile, remained a mystery to the villagers. Only Hunnt and Grandma Mel knew the Felyne's true nature. The golden-eyed creature observed silently, tail flicking in amusement as Hunnt absorbed Coerl's every movement. To the villagers, he was just a cat.
---
By nightfall, the forge glowed warmly, firelight reflecting off blackened tools. Hunnt had not yet struck a single piece of metal himself, but the hours spent observing and memorizing every instruction had etched the lessons into his mind.
Pyro padded over, brushing against Hunnt's leg.
"Good work today, Master," he said softly.
Hunnt reached down to pat him. "Thanks, Pyro. I'm just learning the way Coerl teaches. One day, I'll put it into practice."
Outside, the village slept, the quiet punctuated only by the distant hoot of an owl. The elders and chief nodded in silent approval, watching from afar as the boy and his unusual companion absorbed every moment of learning.
For Hunnt, this was only the beginning. Every demonstration, every correction, every spark and hiss of heated metal was laying a foundation. One day, these lessons would grow into mastery—first of steel, and eventually, of materials taken from the monsters that threatened their world.
The forge, glowing against the night sky, seemed alive with possibilities. And in the heart of it, Hunnt hunched over the anvil in focused silence, ready to absorb every lesson the day—and Coerl—would offer.