Four chapter dark!Phil shenanigans, things get worse for Techno before they get better in this!
Sometimes, the crowing of a rooster in the morning sounded much too close to the war horns of old for Techno's liking.
Instinct made him sit up quickly, years of a quiet life not having wiped out entirely how that very sound could bring his mind into a sharp awareness instantly, lucidity dragged from sleep clawing and kicking. The motion threw off Steve, who insisted on sleeping in Techno's bed. Techno had tried to train Steve to sleep outside or even just on the floor an ample amount of times. He was always unsuccessful in the endeavor. Maybe because he was too soft to stand the wolf's sad whining from the other side of the door, claws feebly dragging against wood as he begged to be let in. It was enough to break anybody's heart.
Perhaps abandonment played a role in Steve's behavior. He was only a pup when Techno found him, all alone with not an owner or adult animal in sight. Back then, Techno had mistaken the small ball of fluff for a dog of some kind - perhaps a husky like the ones that were used by the mountainfolks to take into the mines. It wasn't until Steve grew into adulthood that Techno realized he had actually picked up a wolf pup by accident.
He worried for a brief time that this meant Steve would get too aggressive to be kept around as he got older, but that seemed to be an unwarranted fear. Steve was loyal, protective, and a total sweetheart on the inside, despite his intimidating appearance. He never did more than nip at Techno's gloved hands in play sometimes, and growl or bark to warn of intruders. But he didn't do well being left alone.
So Steve slept on the bed with him, a solid and heavy weight pressing down on Techno. Maybe, in a way, it comforted both of them.
"Ugh…" Techno rubbed at his face, rough and calloused fingers pressing into reddened skin. Working at the forge for too long often left his cheeks and nose lightly burned, kind of similar to what a farmer might experience after hours of standing around in the sun. Together with the collection of burn scars that told a history of blacksmithing accidents in Techno's past, the flushed skin was a simple part of the trade. Any craftsman worth their gold would bear the traces of their passion.
He needed to get out of bed, but Techno was immensely tired.
He usually didn't mind waking up early. If anything, he would describe himself as a morning person. Techno had a hard time sleeping in without feeling like he was wasting his day hours, not to mention productivity was the best cure for brooding over the past. But he'd been working late a lot more often than he liked lately. And clearly, his body did not agree with the practice.
Steve licked his face, having jumped back on the bed after Techno accidentally pushed him off. Techno laughed and put his hand firmly around the wolf's muzzle. "I'm up, I'm up. Geez, pushy much?"
Steve's tail wagged rapidly in agreement. He was also a morning person.
Techno got out of bed and stretched, before opening the shutters on his windows to let in some fresh air. He could hear the distant noises of people already up and about outside, and the clucking of the chickens in the courtyard nearby. That was also where the rooster lived. Techno didn't know how pleasant it was for the animals to be enclosed in a small pen between brick and fencework. Since the family that owned the chickens was quite generous in sharing their eggs, he wouldn't complain about it. This city was small but dense around the center, most of the houses stood three apiece in rows with only narrow alleys in between and little to no gardens. Techno's home was the exception to the rule, since he had the much needed space for his forge out back. Techno enjoyed living in this city a lot. Everything he might need from stores to apothecaries was reachable in case his pains flared up again and prevented him from walking long stretches, more than enough farmers were living at the edge of town that required his services regularly, and even the capital was only a couple of days travel away so he often could take up jobs from there as well. The city was small enough to feel cozy yet big enough not to stifle him. It had been a good place to settle down after the war.
While walking through the hallway towards the kitchen, Techno stopped to pound on the door where his apprentices slept. He didn't wait for an answer before moving on. They'd sort themselves out quick enough.
The kitchen itself was a right mess. Techno was never the tidiest person, as meticulous as he was about his craft that didn't quite carry over in other aspects of his life. And while Ranboo was tasked with keeping the forge itself clean, it never sat right with Techno to order the boy to take on that responsibility for their living spaces. That should be a shared burden. It probably didn't help that the kitchen also served as a living room, an office, and pretty much anything else Techno needed it for. The house simply wasn't that big.
A desk in the corner contained Techno's ledgers, papers haphazardly organized so he could track the urgency of each order and where it had to be delivered, whether he had already received payment in advance or not, and so on. Techno walked over to quickly glance at what the plan was for today. He needed to get those stirrups started or he'd never make the deadline.
Before that, he better fix up breakfast. Blacksmithing was intensive work and Techno knew from experience how hard it was to do on an empty stomach. He lit the coals beneath the stove to heat up the metal plates, then got some eggs, potatoes, and cured meat to turn into a hearty dish.
By the time he was almost done with his breakfast preparation, Ranboo came into the kitchen, yawning widely. "Good morning."
"Mornin'" Techno almost yawned too, there was always something infectious about seeing somebody else do it. At a basin they kept in the corner of the room, Ranboo briefly washed his face. His hands scooped up the cold water slowly, careful not to spill all over the floor. He winced at the movement. "Still sore from yesterday?" Techno asked.
"Don't remind me," Ranboo said miserably. He sat down at the table, the same spot where he always sat. Even more so than Techno, Ranboo was a creature of habit. He stuck closely to his routines.
"You'll get used to it."
People often underestimated how much muscle work went into blacksmithing. Ranboo honestly didn't do half bad for somebody his age with noodle arms and the disposition of a scared fawn. Techno didn't think much of the boy when he met him. But Ranboo had been begging for any opportunity at a smithing apprenticeship after being turned away everywhere else, so Techno had taken him on out of pity at first. He was very glad he did because since then, Ranboo had shown he had an unmatched talent for the craft.
After dividing the food onto three plates and feeding some of the leftover meat to Steve, Techno carried them over to the table. "Where's Tommy?"
"Still asleep, I guess." Ranboo picked up a fork to dig in. "I did tell him to get up but he might have been less than coherent at the time."
Techno snorted a laugh. That sounded about right for Tommy. "If he doesn't get up soon his breakfast is going to get cold."
"I don't know if that's enough to convince him," Ranboo said lightly.
"Nah, but I know what will."
He picked up the basin Ranboo had used to wash his face a couple of minutes ago. Techno tried to refresh the water inside every few days, so he was supposed to empty it at some point anyway. Might as well kill two birds with one stone. Ranboo followed him, plate in one hand and fork in the other, still eating.
Techno opened the door with his foot, scrunching up his nose at the bedroom his apprentices shared. This place made the kitchen look nice and clean by comparison, but maybe Techno shouldn't be surprised that's what happened when two teenagers shared a room. Shuffling over to Tommy's bed without spilling any of his heavy load, Techno looked down at the boy. His back was turned, face smooshed into the pillow and eyes closed, completely oblivious to the impending disaster.
And thus it was with immense satisfaction and a tiny bit of sadistic glee that Techno upended the entire basin full of water over Tommy.
Tommy's screeching was louder than the rooster, yet still mostly drowned out by Techno's laughter, joined by Ranboo's chuckling. Between desperate coughs - some of the water might have made it into Tommy's lungs along the way - Tommy had just enough energy to stare daggers at Techno.
"What the fuck was that for?!"
"Breakfast's ready," Techno said. He put the basin on the ground between the two beds. "Don't forget to fill that back up later."
"It's not my turn," Tommy complained, peeling off drenched blankets.
"It is now."
Ranboo followed Techno back to the kitchen, where the older man could finally sit down and get started on his own food. Tommy didn't make the same mistake a second time and pretty soon made an appearance too, grumbling some choice words under his breath that were definitely meant to be overheard by Techno. He ignored it.
The thing about Tommy was that his anger was incredibly fleeting. In an hour, the boy would be over it, grinning and joking like new. That was how Techno had always known him to be, and he had known Tommy for a very long time. Long enough that Tommy had become the closest thing to family Techno had in a life where he didn't end up with many solid connections. Especially after the war was through.
But Tommy was the same. The long period of warfare and the devastating famine that followed had rendered many kids orphans. Tommy was only one of many. Yet Techno had caught the kid trying to pickpocket him, nimble fingers and brazen attitude for somebody who was not subtle in the slightest. Maybe the choice to take Tommy in was also pity, when Techno looked back at it. A precursor for what would happen with Ranboo almost a decade later.
The alternative could be that Techno was motivated by loneliness but that was a thread of consideration Techno wasn't going to follow too far.
"So what's the plan for today?" Tommy asked, shoving eggs into his mouth and not seeming to care Techno could see half the digestion process when he talked like that.
"Stirrups," Techno said. "Got an order of about a hundred that I need to start on."
"Lame," Tommy shot back. "When are you going to make something cooler? Like a sword, or a mace, or-"
"Stirrups are very cool. And they're more useful than most weapons."
"How so?" Tommy's entire face scrunched up in disbelief at the statement.
"Tommy, what do you think happens to a soldier when his horse rears up in the middle of a fight and throws him off?"
Tommy blinked at him. Ranboo cleared his throat. "Head injury?"
"Head injury," Techno agreed. "Or broken bones, internal bleeding. Bunch of other stuff. And that's before the horse tramples you by accident."
Techno had seen a few men go out that way.
"So, you make the stirrups properly and you don't get thrown off, easy right?" Techno picked up his plate and brought it to the sink. "But then you have to worry about what'll happen if the horse gets taken down and you're stuck in the stirrups struggling to get out. You think being pinned beneath a frightened, hurt animal that weighs a ton and cannot tell friend from foe is the worst thing that could happen? Try that when you're actively being fired at with arrows. So stirrups need release hatches too. It's a lot of work."
"Okay, okay, I get it," Tommy said. "But I still think a sword or two would be cool."
"Do you need my help?" Ranboo asked. "With the stirrups, I mean."
"Nah, I got that covered. You should continue with your project. I checked it last night, and it's coming along nicely."
Ranboo visibly perked up at that. No matter how often Techno told him he was doing a good job, Ranboo never seemed to fully believe him. But it was true. Ranboo had been finishing his own little creations barely a month after Techno started to show him the ropes.
Techno added, "probably shuffle out the coals first, though." As a blacksmith apprentice, Ranboo wasn't only learning the trade but also conveniently could be made to do all the chores around the forge.
"What about me?" Tommy asked. In an official sense, he wasn't an apprentice. Not the way Ranboo was. Tommy just started worming his way into Techno's business gradually over time since Techno was practically raising him, always keen to know what Techno was doing. The admiration had been so foreign to Techno at first.
Sure, he'd gotten compliments before, but they were all about the finished projects, the things he made. Tommy's genuine interest in the process compelled Techno to teach him a few things. Sadly, Tommy was not nearly as quick on the uptake as Ranboo was - no matter what Tommy might insist.
"Nails," Techno said.
Tommy dropped his head into his arms, which he had crossed against the table. "Again?"
"They're properly straight almost all the time now," Techno told him. "Once I get to omit the 'almost', we'll move on to the next step."
"Fuck you, I'll be making the best nails you've ever seen, just you wait!" Tommy answered.
A few rapid taps on the door followed. Techno went over to open it, immediately sticking out his leg so Fundy couldn't skitter past him and inside.
"Hey guys!" Fundy instead said while awkwardly bending sideways so he could wave at Tommy and Ranboo. Then his brown eyes moved up to Techno's face. "Hey, Techno."
"Letters first," Techno said.
"Only the one this time." Fundy retrieved it from his little satchel, holding it out for Techno to take. Before he could, Fundy snatched it out of reach again. "It has the royal crest. Important news, do you think?"
Techno liked Fundy, he really did. But whoever decided to make him the unofficial town messenger did not think things through. Somebody this nosey should not be in charge of handling information. Just because the young man could be quicker than a fox and was willing to risk life and limb to bring around letters in bad weather…
"Probably just them trying to reach me about my extended warranty," Techno deadpanned, grabbing the letter from him. Only then did he allow Fundy to come inside. While Techno opened the envelope and glanced at the elegantly inked words, Fundy helped himself to Ranboo's leftovers from breakfast.
Another valuable thing about Fundy's services was that he didn't expect payment in cash. Food, shelter, or whatever trinkets he could make disappear into his pocket without anybody noticing, those were Fundy's rewards. Before Ranboo was around and when Tommy was too young to do many chores, Fundy had been a great help to Techno though. He'd offer to pitch in with small menial work as long as Techno fed him. And Techno enjoyed cooking fine, so that worked out.
"Niki also asked if you're done with her order," Fundy said. His table manners were somehow even worse than Tommy's, Techno could barely believe it.
"Finished the work yesterday," he said. It had been an easy job, a simple set of copper utensils for the bakery. Normally the kind of thing Techno would make Ranboo do, but since Ranboo could really only focus on one project at a time and Techno didn't want to keep Niki waiting he'd done it himself.
Fundy nodded, inching over to Techno's desk to look for any slag he left lying around. He enjoyed collecting the shiny pieces of scrap metal. "I can bring it over to her, if you want? In exchange for a little treat?" His eyes shone with eagerness.
The only bad thing about Fundy was his immense appetite.
"I'm heading out anyway," Techno said. "But thanks."
After paying a visit to Carl and making sure the retired warhorse had everything he needed in his stable, Techno went into the forge to collect the items. Tommy was nowhere in sight - again, not an official apprentice so Techno couldn't order him around the way he did Ranboo. Tommy would just call him annoying and run off - but Ranboo was sweeping bits of metal and ash off the floor so they had a clean workplace to start the day. Techno took another look at the thing Ranboo had been working on. It was a metal bell, shaped a little like a dragon if you looked at it right. Nothing too fancy, but definitely a challenge. And it didn't look half bad either.
"It's not too terrible, is it?" Ranboo asked hesitantly, noticing that Techno was scrutinizing his work for a few long seconds.
"Nah, just trying to figure out if the dragon was supposed to only have three legs," Techno joked.
Ranboo stepped closer, scratching his chin as he looked at his slightly misshapen creation. "Yeah, no, that's… he lost one somewhere along the way."
"Happens to the best of us," Techno said.
"I can probably reattach it? I think?" Ranboo tilted his head. "Maybe."
"Shouldn't be too hard," Techno agreed. "And if not, it looks fine as is."
Ranboo smiled at him. "The design was fun to figure out, it reminds me a bit of uh-" He faltered there, casting his eyes away. "...of where I was born."
Techno frowned. The letter suddenly felt heavier sitting in his pocket and he patted at it absently a few times. "Hm, I get that. Anyway, make sure the place is clean by the time I get back, yeah?"
With a hum and a nod, Ranboo returned to taking care of his duties. Techno stepped outside, then took off towards the other side of the city. It wasn't until he could assure himself he was well beyond sight that he reached for the folded paper.
"To the one known as Techno Blade,
The crown remembers fondly your services from before. Once again, war threatens our borders with the Enderia approach, and the Queen sees it fit to commission several of the nation's most talented craftsmen to put their hands to work for us. We would be greatly in your debt (and quite literally will compensate with negotiable prices) if you would estimate for us an order of the following weaponry, to be delivered at your earliest convenience:
10 longswords
20 shortswords
5 broadswords"
This was the point where he stopped reading. Techno scowled down at the words, and at the moniker they used for him in particular. How ironic that they would address him with the name they'd burdened him with and he had spent the last decade trying to shed.
'Services from before' was a funny way to describe the old war, and Techno's labor in it. The weapons he made had gained him notoriety and fame, had taken him onto the battlefield too sometimes because what was prolonged warfare without a blacksmith there for last-minute repairs and alterations?
And all the praise he got for making weapons durable enough to withstand the worst conditions, and sharp enough to cut through skin like paper, at a speed even Techno's own master marveled at, fell into his ribcage empty and hollow when he watched the nation bleed from it.
Techno had armed half the army with his skill back then. Then he stood by while half the towns along the border burned, with innocent men, women, and children left dead.
He wasn't interested in making weapons anymore. And for the longest time, the crown seemed content with that because the threat was over and they could go back to a peaceful existence. Techno could take up orders for household items, he could take on an apprentice, he could sit in his bed at night reading while Steve curled up on his lap.
On the town square, a noticeboard had been hung with pamphlets declaring the latest draft. Another round of healthy boys and men called to the reserves so they could prepare for war again since Enderia threatened to escalate a few conflicts into mayhem. Tension was building with the oppressiveness of storm clouds gathering on the horizon. Techno had noticed it in other things too. In the little glances people were throwing at Ranboo lately, for example. The kid always had it rough since he fled Enderia and crossed the border after the old war. His bright green eyes, pale freckled skin, and dark hair were dead giveaways that he wasn't from these parts, but during peacetime, he didn't need to worry about anything aside from the occasional snide remark. With a new war brewing, the tiniest hostility could easily turn into paranoia.
Techno noticed it in Tommy, who was jumpy a little more than usual and tried to follow the news coming from the frontlines as best he could. Techno wasn't the only one who was kept awake by memories of the old war. Sometimes, Techno wondered what Tommy would think if he knew Techno probably made the sword held by Tommy's father when he died on the battlefield.
And then there were the orders that came in. Anchors for riverboats, gear for the warhorses, armor,... Techno had seen a noticeable uptick in those sorts of requests that poured in from the capital's region. He took most of them, since it kept him busy and under the radar. Maybe if he took these jobs, the crown wouldn't bother him about any weaponry because they'd know he was otherwise occupied.
Maybe Techno had been foolish to think that. With his reputation, sooner or later the Queen would find him.
So in a sense, this message was not a surprise. Techno had expected this for a while, and thus he had his answer ready. He walked into the post office - the official one, this was something he couldn't trust Fundy with. The only reason he stopped Fundy at the door was because Techno didn't need Ranboo or Tommy sticking their nose into this mess. He drafted an answer to the crown's message, a polite declination of their commission because he had so many other orders backed up. Then he let it be sent off with the greatest urgency.
That should be the end of it.
Satisfied, Techno continued on to Niki's bakery to deliver her goods. And maybe see about getting Ranboo, Tommy, and himself something nice for afternoon tea. Fundy too, probably. There was only so much hard work a blacksmith could do in a day, after all.
Three days later, Techno was working in his forge when the little peace he strived so long for was shattered.
Steve started to bark, running small circles around the cramped area of the workspace. Concern wasn't the first thing on Techno's mind. His hearing wasn't what it used to be, so while doing his metalwork Techno had a hard time listening for anybody's approach. Steve wouldn't bark at Ranboo or Tommy, meaning he served as a good indicator a stranger was nearby. Usually, somebody from the neighbors seeking him out for a personal order. Techno put his hammer down, sliding the tongs away from himself across the anvil. The metal he was working on wasn't too hot anymore, but better safe than sorry.
When he turned around, there was a man standing behind him.
Techno's vision was a little blurry from staring into the flames too long, and the figure was backlit. It was hard not to see the pair of black wings extending from the man's back though, cutting out some of the light.
"I'm looking for Techno Blade?"
"You found him," Techno drawled, picking the hammer up again so he could continue working. "You don't recognize me anymore?"
"Of course I do," Philza said. "You haven't aged a day, mate."
The casual address made Techno's eye twitch. He continued hammering the metal to bend it, trying to chase the sparks with his eyes. "And you haven't gotten any better at smooth talking. What do you want from me?"
"I can't visit an old acquaintance when I'm in the city for business?" Phil asked innocently.
Techno grunted, sitting back to wipe the sweat from his brow. "Only a visit?"
"Only a visit," Phil said.
Somehow, Techno doubted it. What were the odds, after all, that he would send a letter of refusal to the royals and less than a week later, who would appear on his doorstep but Philza Craft, Angel of the Crown, one of the most influential nobles in the country, a man whispered to be as essential in running the nation as the Queen herself, a force to be reckoned with in and off the battlefield.
And the last person Techno wanted to have anywhere near him.