Flawed and Tainted

CHAPTER 3. Met

Sam

Since I was a child, drawing had always been a very important part of my life. Initially, of course, I wasn't very good at it, but as I grew older I progressively started getting better. I went from drawing stickmen in square houses to portraying realistic sceneries. I actually loved drawing flowers. I began drawing buds, and soon enough, my artistic ability blossomed and got me into drawing all kinds of floral species. Lately however, every ounce of inspiration had fled from me and I remained unable to draw a single thing. I wasn't calm enough. Ever since my parents had told me about the short time left for the barrier to break, stress had taken over me. There was no room for creativity in my mind anymore. Previously, going for a walk an trying to draw what I saw, effectively got me out of my drawing slumps. This time though, it was different. I tried drawing my parents, flowers... Nothing. My sleep had also been affected, for nightmares were slowly creeping in, night after night.

I stood up and moved away from the canvas. It wasn't as if ideas were going to start flowing anytime soon. Frustrated, I made my way downstairs. I entered the kitchen in order to grab something to eat. It seems my dad had exactly the same idea, for he followed my example minutes later.

"Hey Sam, good morning!" he said with a sleepy voice whilst entering the room.

"Hi Dad" I responded, a smile making its way to my lips.

"Got any plans today?" I shook my head in response. "Oh, in that case, could you please go around town and deliver the permits? People are starting to get impatient" he sighed before sipping some hot milk.

The gates had already been closed for almost a week, so it was absolutely normal for people to start complaining. Although inward and outward access to the town needed to remain restricted, a permit wouldn't disturb much but it would keep the locals happy for a while, giving us some more time.

"Yes, no problem. I'll go right now." he gave me a small smile and muttered "Thank you" before leaving the kitchen.

I left right after him and immediately went to gather everything I needed. First to my bedroom, and secondly to my father's office, where I guessed the permits were. Indeed I found them just on top of his desk. Without much thought, I took off, in hopes of returning at noon, with everything successfully delivered.

The first stop was the blacksmith. Otto was certainly very good at his job. The best in the nation, some claimed. He had lived in Karam ever since his birth and was actually my Dad's childhood friend. I entered his workshop, the metallic clanging of the bell over the door sounding as I stepped in. Otto had always been a very organized man, every tool was in it's place, his attire was clean as it could be, and all the stock was numbered and tracked so he knew he was running short on a specific material before he actually ran out of it. The result of this was a perfectly decent workshop, to the contrary of what a blacksmith's atelier usually looked like. It even smelled quite nice in there, which made you question if you were in a forge or in an antique shop.

I called for Otto, for he was nowhere to be seen. He immediately answered my creed and appeared from the backyard, where he had probably been crafting some kind of weapon. I had seen him do that before. As a child, Otto had sometimes taken care of me when my parents were too busy to do it themselves. It was fun. Probably dangerous now that I think of it but... Here I am I guess!

"Hey Sam! How are ya boy?" said the fifty year old man, with broad shoulders and a characteristic mustache on his face, now influenced by a big smile that had made its way through his serious expression. His hair was now quite short, black with some white strands, his growing age somehow starting to manifest. He was wearing his leather apron. As a whole, he sure was quite intimidating if you didn't know him. "Long time no see. You almost never come here anymore! No need for me to oversee you now, huh?" he said, a fatherly look in his eyes.