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 Posted: Mon May 14, 2012 7:42 pm
Afternoon work was slowing down and a handful of apprentices had been sent home. Finished pieces were shelved and organized for pick ups and deliveries, though not everything had been wrapped for transport yet. Rost was occupied in front of an oven, glowing globe slowly growing at the end of the narrow metal rod in his hands, cheeks red with the effort of expanding the glass with the power of his own lungs.
He paused to breathe and hold the slowly growing sphere back into the open hutch of the oven, warming it again until it gleamed brightly, ready for another round of expansion. The quiet of the afternoon was always more relaxing, though he could feel the ache of fatigue begin to settle into his left side and he did his best not to waver in front of the others he shared the glassworks with.
As he brought the rod back to his mouth to exhale, he tried to remember whether or not he was expecting anyone else that day ... And couldn't.
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Posted: Mon May 14, 2012 10:02 pm
One of the hurricane shades for the chapel's oil lamps had broken, and this time, it was not Julian's fault. He had dropped a lamp once a few years before, and the sudden plunge into darkness while in the catacombs filled with scrolls, coupled with how the scent of oil on his robes had lingered for months, had made him more than careful with them. He wondered if the monk who had stumbled today was less frightened of the utter blackness of the unlit halls than he had been, or if it was a load of tripe that men and boys were less afraid of everything.
Privately, scientifically, Julian wondered if he would have been more afraid had he been some sort of nun, instead, or a girl apprenticed to a seamstress as he once imagined he might have been when he was very small. But then he was also doubted there was a way to measure for sure how frightened anyone was at any particular time. Certainly not with a scale, or a knotted cord...
It was thoughts like these that made the novice walk straight past the glazier's the first time. Fortunately he noticed before he had gone too much further and turned back, hunching his shoulders slightly under his fur-trimmed long cape as he attempted to make the about-face look deliberate. When he reached the door, Julian knocked, first somewhat unassertively, then, receiving no initial response, with a bit more volume.
He was armed with a scrap of paper with the bottom circumference of one of the other hurricane shades traced out in graphite, so that he could get one that would fit the rest of the lamp, which, miraculously, had been unbroken in today's accident. But Julian figured that, since he was coming so late in the day, he might have to return tomorrow or the day after to pick up the shade. He would just have to see.
Squirming on his feet, he dug up the paper with the measurement, and awaited the proprietor.
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Posted: Tue May 15, 2012 5:40 am
The door opened and a wave of heat rushed out, washing over the young monk as he stood expectantly. Some red-nosed young man hardly older than Julian held the door open, sweaty in a thick apron and a pair of gloves. His dark eyes widened, examining the other boy's clothes curiously before he remembered he was working,
"Hi." He blinked, "Rost's in the back. You pickin' up or droppin'—" the apprentice's eyes fell down to the paper Julian fidgeted with, "Oh. Gotcha. Come on in where it's nice an' warm." Hot was more like it.
He grinned and swung the door wider to let the other boy come in, nodding his head in the direction of a red-headed man blowing a large glowing globe of glass at the end of a long metal rod, "Hold on a moment an' I'll tell him you're here." The globe was soon finished and the young monk watched the man finish off the base of the bowl while it was still glowing. Another apprentice used large tongs to remove the piece from the rod and took it away to finish it elsewhere in the shop.
"Rost, order here!" The dark-eyed boy next to Julian shouted loudly, waving and pointing at the monk. The man nodded and approached, wiping his greasy hands on an apron. He moved with an obvious limp, but it didn't seem to get into immediate way of his work.
"What can I do for you?" He didn't quite smile, eying the young man's clothes as if he recognized he was expecting someone.
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Posted: Tue May 15, 2012 5:48 pm
"Thank you," Julian replied quickly but politely to the invitation to come inside, bowing slightly as he stepped through the doorway. The warmer air was comfortable, but the difference was great enough compared to outside that the monk untied his heavy cloak after just a few moments. Transfixed momentarily by the glass-blowing, the red-haired boy flinched slightly at the apprentice's sudden shout to draw the glassblower's attention.
He smiled as the man approached him, and offered the scrap of paper. "One of my brother Chronologists broke a hurricane lamp shade, and we were wondering if we could purchase a new one?" Julian inquired. "I traced the bottom of one of the other shades on this paper. It has to be this big at the bottom to fit, but other than that, it doesn't need to be too fancy or anything."
Momentarily, his eyes focused past the glassblower himself and on some of his recent work instead - Julian knew basically nothing about glass-blowing beyond what was obvious - then added, "Sorry to come so late to ask for this. I can come back tomorrow or the day after if you're busy."
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Posted: Tue May 15, 2012 8:40 pm
Rost was staring at the paper while the boy talked, one ruddy hand reaching behind his head to fiddle with loose waves of fiery red hair. He grunted, hazel eyes (more blue today) scanning the drawing. If he'd heard everything Julian had said, it didn't show on his face when he looked up,
"Nah. You can stay."
He grinned then, though one side rose a bit more than the other, snagged by the smudge of a scar on his cheek. He shoved the paper into the oversized pocket of his heavy leather apron and paused to roll up his sleeves again, revealing a few fresh burns from the morning's activities littered among the freckles on his pale skin.
"It's not a big piece, so I can bump a few projects back. Saves me shipping if you take it back with you. And saves you travel." The older man answered simply, shoulders rolling before he nodded to a few slightly rickety looking stools in front of a pair of drafting tables, "Want a seat? Or would you prefer to watch? Either's fine, but you'll have to stay out of the way."
He blinked, "Unless you have more errands, lad?"
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Posted: Thu May 17, 2012 10:21 pm
A faint smile appeared on the boy's lips, eager at being allowed to see the shade come into being, and he bobbed a quick bow in reply. "Thank you, sir."
He wondered briefly at the scar on the man's face, though he did not stare. It seemed like only the nobility reached adulthood completely unscathed, which was a fact that Julian did not particularly resent them for - age and experience were etched on everyone through their lives in some way or another. The monks had taught him that scars indicated experience gained and lessons learned - there was no shame in having scars.
"Ah, I'll watch from back here," the young monk replied. He took a few steps to the side, leaning a bit to test his view, then inquired, "Is this alright here?" Then he added, "Oh, and this errand only came up an hour or so ago. Most of my duties to the Chronologists are in the morning. I would probably just be reading in my room until supper otherwise and I feel like I can learn more here right now watching you."
Julian hesitated a moment, then shyly inquired, "Could you tell me a little about your glass-blowing, too?" He took pride in the particular education he had received: how to read, to write, to organize alphabetically or chronologically, to find things again by the same method. But there were times when he felt a touch ignorant, having learned no trademan's craft. He could do odd-jobs, but truly, could only make a living on his own by his literacy.
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