PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

“Now this, my lovely young lady, is but one of many examples of our shop’s flawless craftsmanship. Made with layered steel and coated with pure, gleaming silver; this candelabrum will not only allow you to bring light in to whatever sanctuary you choose; it will also make you the envy of all friends, neighbors and chapel-going patrons who may lay eyes upon your purchase!” With this last word, Nevony lifted his arm in a grand gesture to all of the closest passers-by in the marketplace, some of which glared at him warily.

Shel giggled with one hand held to her lips. She then placed one finger on her chin and showed the boy a playful, speculative tilt of the head.

“Ah, I see, I see! But how can I be sure that this candelabrum will stand the trials of the day-to-day? How can I even be sure it will survive the carry home!” She said, with a bright smile that displayed her perfect, white teeth.

Nevony shared in her smile and looked down at the candelabrum, which he continued to absentmindedly polish. He then held it high towards the sun, allowing it to dazzle the young priestess as it fully captured the shimmer of the morning, which was slowly creeping towards the afternoon as they spoke.

What’s a boy to do? He not only wanted to impress the beautiful young woman that had come admiring his wares; he also wanted to prove that he and his master crafted the finest metal in all the local posts. With a sudden realization, Nevony seized the candelabrum by the base and slammed it on to its side with a booming thud. Shel flinched at the sound and then watched, unsure of what to make of the boy’s sudden burst of enthusiasm. He reached beneath the center of the wooden counter top and, after a moment of blind searching, heaved a heavy metalsmith’s hammer by the hilt in his dirty, bared hand. Without word or remark, he unceremoniously raised the hammer as youthful slyness returned to his face. Understanding dawned abruptly on the poor girl, and she attempted to dissuade him in futility: Nevony’s hammer fell in an immediate blur, and her voice was drowned in the immense clatter of shattering silver plating and rigid, sculpted steel. Reacting quickly, the young priestess threw her face to the left as a wide cloud of glinting shards and dust engulfed her from the waist up.

The market was still. One could hear the faint howling of the light breeze, as all eyes turned to stare at the two in silence. Shel lowered her arms and looked at the young lad: his one hand still firmly grasping the hilt of the hammer, sunk as it was through the very surface of the counter below. Its head was buried several inches out of sight, surrounded by ruin. Nevony’s face was covered in a thick layer of sawdust dotted with shimmering silver flakes. The candelabrum lay strewn about the counter, the floor and even hung in the drapes in pieces of every conceivable size, with two major parts having been thrown on opposite sides of the workshop. The boy’s face was resolute, yet absolutely vacant. He stared, unblinking, at the crushed and broken space where the candelabrum had once laid on its perfectly-grafted side. Sweat began to gather on his brow, which quickly dripped down into the corners of his eyes. The sudden and salty burn shook him from his stupor, and he turned to face the rabble that had come to surround him.