Born in Beauty by Melody Rose

Author:Melody Rose [Rose, Melody]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-31T16:00:00+00:00

20

My legs pushed me all the way to the forge. I ran away from Ansel, from Oliver, from the tension that swirled between the two of us. I tried to run away from my own thoughts, but they pounded against my skull as hard as my feet pounded the pavement.

I couldn’t believe Oliver. What was he thinking, having the two of us reenact Achilles and Penthesilea? It was a stupid love story, anyway. It could barely be called a love story because all they did was fight. They pummeled each other until the man ended up winning, and then when he realized she was pretty, he ‘fell in love with her.’ The only thing it led to was the requirement that every great hero had to best an Amazon warrior in order to be considered a hero. Or so one of the myths went, anyway. So a man had to best a woman in order to show his superiority. Yeah, that was definitely something I wanted to participate in.

Who did that son of Dionysus think he was? Trying to play matchmaker? It wasn’t right. It wasn’t his place. That big, dramatic teacher was messing with everything with his stupid show. It was a dance! Why did we need a show in the first place? We had music, food, and dancing. We didn’t need some dramatic performance in the middle of it all.

I burst into the doors of the forge and found it surprisingly empty. No students practicing for their exams or Ruby were in sight. The concrete floors stretched out with possibilities, the fires ready to be started, and the metal ready to be bent.

I didn’t waste a minute. I jogged to my favorite station and fired up the forge. Flames blazed through either end with a violent blast as I turned the propane tank up a little too high. I blindly selected the metal, not caring what I was going to bang out. I just needed something to hammer into little pieces, to bend to my will. I needed something I could be in control of.

So I buried myself in blacksmithing. I left all of my thoughts and feelings about Ansel, the dance, Love Struck, and the rest of it at the door. My whole world shrunk to the hammer, the metal, and the fire. There was no image in my head. I had no idea what I was creating. I simply created.

When the metal stopped talking to me, I ventured to grab another piece. I picked something challenging, a collection of ball bearings, and threw them into the forge with my bare hands. Even though I could resist fire, I often wore gloves and goggles to keep up the appearance of safety. Here, though, completely alone in the forge, I worked with reckless abandon. I relished the feeling of the fire on my skin, the heat that radiated up my arm.

I held the white-hot metal between my fingers and felt none of the searing heat that sizzled off the substance.

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