Fed The Hand That Chaosed Me

Chapter 7

The Fist Time’s the Hardest

So with my new ability, I got a job change. I went from a simple Deckhand to working in the Forge as an Apprentice. It’s a dream job for me, the warmth from the fire (so cozy!!), a near endless foo-ahem- ore supply, some gems that would make the highest class jeweler partake in some Red-light District activities just for a glance at them. But I don’t inspect them at a closer distance, or as The Master so rudely puts it-“shoving expensive materials that are hard to resupply down my damn scaly gullet”, I just prefer ores over gems. Anyways, my job as Forge Apprentice entitles me to the prestigious events such as: tending the fires, handling of the hot metals to the cooling barrels, sort and restock everything in the shop, and all of the janitorial needs. Bullshit aside, I do all the heavy lifting and grunt work.

The Forge Master is an old unicorn. His coat might have been a fairly bright blue but his time around the fire has tarnished it down to a more grey shade, and his mane is black- the original color only he and Death will know. I’ve asked him his name many times and his only answer is “Forge Master”. As it turns out, he is not a member of the crew and his ‘story’ is not really known. He has no problem with me and treats me like a sentient being and not some fire breathing monster bread for death and destruction, and is one of the few ponies that don’t have that small mind clouding look of fear when I’m around them. The only time he has had a problem was when we kept running out of iron, copper, gold, rubies, emeralds and sapphires. He had no idea why until I decided to try some copper-zinc mixed with a diamond and unceremoniously spit it out all over the fire pit extinguishing the fire. Since then he has enchanted the shelves to where if I stand too long in one spot I get a crippling electrical shock. In his defense, I did try to eat his anvil. So he has a legitimate reason.

It has been three weeks since I ‘came’ aboard the Enterprise, and all was well; I had settled into the life of a Forge Apprentice, haven’t had any misadventures like the Drinking Contest(Still the Champ!!), Me and Rikoche hangout every day during breaks and during the free hours after work. I think we’re on the way to being more than just friends, but I’m not going to rush it. All was well, until the Tuesday of the fourth week. On that day I had an unending desire to consume, but just pony food would not suffice!! The only materials that could possibly satisfy were forks and spoons. The best comparison I have is if you had a fresh scab, with poison ivy and oak on top of that, and mosquito bites. That’s quite an itch, right? Well that ‘itch’ intensified sevenfold when I reported to work, and ebbed and flowed based on my proximity of the Materials Storage Shelf. Around noon, the hunger consumed me and all hell broke loose. What had intended to be ‘walk over and grab Ore 95x7(high grade tungsten)’ turned into ‘Shoulder Charge barrier and inhale all materials’. It didn’t stop there either; I continued on to eat Mr. Forge’s tools as well! I was half way through his engraving set before I felt a change in my body- I’ve no way to explain it, one minute I’m comfortable and the next extremely not- and a new desire, warmth. With the new desire on my mind I made my way to the Fire Pit, climbed inside and laid myself down on the embers. Using my tail, I pumped the bellows to increase the flames. Unsatisfied with the low heat, I added some of my Dragon Fire- which is about the same temperature as Magma. Felling cozy, I drift off to sleep, with the last words I hear were “Oh my Celestia…”

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I awoke felling rather cold compared to when I fell asleep. I open my eye to try and find out why, only to see an empty white room. On the other side of said room, sits a grey scale replica of me. “Ok… What’s ahh…going on here?” I asked Myself?

“A history Lesson” He replied.

“Great, School.”

“It’s mostly to pass the time while you shed your scales and grow. Hence the mass consumption of food and the heat” He chided.

“Ok, then what’s with the empty room?”

“So you don’t wake up and die.” He expressionlessly expresses.

“On that note, what book am I burn-ahem- reading today Teach?” I smoothly shift topics.

“History; More so, your Heritage.” He continues on. “Starting with what you are, an Accident. A one might stand between a drunken Dragon and an Alligator that was mistaken as a Dragon. You have no official Species Name, although Drakegator is accurate.”

“Well I’ll be… I’m your average American son!!!” I joke. He didn’t laugh. “Tough crowd”

He gives me a “are you done” look and continues. “Now, that Gator happened to be a Samurai. The Dragon was renowned for his unique fire that made the best metal and glassworks. You, you on the other claw have talent. Somewhere... And it’s all there, just waiting to be rediscovered.”

“So, a Samurai and a Glassblower are my parents?”

“Basically, yes. Now to get you on your way, I have two quests for you. Firstly, you need to learn and harness the magic that’s within you. Secondly, learn what you can about the ways of being a Samurai. As an extra piece of help, when you wake, you will have the blueprints for a few of the more basic Samurai weapons and various armor styles.”

“Alright, now that is what I call a quest starter” I smiled like a fool, “I’m quite grateful for the help, but one request?”

“Yes?”

“I mean no disrespect to the ways of the Samurai, but instead of their traditional armor variants, but could I get the plans to make Kantas style armor?”

“Sure, why not. Also, since you do not have someone to train you, Ronin will be the tile to use. And with that, our little session is done. I bid you farewell, and see you the next time.” He waved and started to walk off.

“Wait, Next time? I’ll have to do this AGAIN?!” I yelled.

Raising his left claw, he gave a two finger salute and kept on walking, “Yea, but don’t worry. The First One is Always the Hardest”

Loot and Skills:

* Blueprints for new Weapons and Armor

* You just essentially taught your own history to yourself

* Slightly more adept at being a walking Bic lighter