Fresta Kingdom , North Blue
The third day started not with the warm and gentle light of the sun.
It began with the loud ugly CLANG of a giant metal bell. It was a horrible sound that woke up everyone in the Fresta Kingdom which can heard again and again.
For the blacksmith and his wife this sound felt like a punch which is reminding them that their little bit of quiet time was over and another horrible day was begin.
The blacksmith opened his eyes.
For just one second his mind was empty and peaceful. Then all the sadness came back like a big scary wave. He remembered the empty spot in the other bed where his son and granddaughter used to sleep. He remembered the sound of his son's last breath. He remembered the sharp biting pain in his own empty stomach.
He slowly pushed himself up. His body which used to be like a strong mountain now felt like a hollow shell. Every part of him hurt. Moving with this body was a very hard job. The small piece of bread he ate yesterday was just a memory for him. And its tiny bit of energy was long gone.
His wife was already wake up and started moving. She moved slowly like a toy robot that was running out of batteries. She did not say anything. They did not talk much anymore. What was there to say?
Their words like everything else had been taken from them. She wear her old, thin dress. blacksmith put on his worn-out leather apron which was just a sad reminder of his old life when he was a proud blacksmith not a slave of revolutionary army.
But before they could leave the house, they had to do the first chore of the day.
They both turned to the wall where the picture of Monkey D. Dragon was hanging. The man with the strange tattoos on his face stared back at them. His face was very serious like he was judging them. With heavy and empty hearts they put their hands on their chests and bowed their heads for one whole minute. It was their morning "prayer" to the man whose fake revolution was making their lives a nightmare.
The blacksmith felt a hot, angry feeling in his chest.
'I hate you,' he thought in his mind screaming the words he could never say out loud. 'I hate your face. I hate your name. I hate everything you stand for. i really wish you die like a dog and you family will suffer from the same fate as us suffering from it' He wanted to spit on the picture. He wanted to tear it off the wall and break it into a hundred pieces. But in the end he couldn't.
The fear he felt was like a cold hand squeezing his throat and it was stronger than his anger against the dragon. He knew that if he did something like that , the puppet soldier would appear at his door and he and his wife would be dragged out into the street and shot. So he just bowed his head and counted the seconds in his mind until the minute was over.
They walked out of from their little house into the gray morning light. The streets were already full of other people all walking slowly and quietly at the same direction toward the town square.
It was like a sad river of people. No one looked at each other. No one talked. If you talked a soldier might notice you and if a soldier noticed you, you might get killed by the soldier.
Everyone's face was thin and tired from the labor they did yesterday and now they have to repeat this process. Their eyes empty and their shoulders feel heavy for them like they were always carrying something very heavy.
People leaned against the cold stone walls of the buildings because their bodies were too weak to stand up straight for many hours. The empty feeling in their stomachs made them feel even worse. The puppet soldiers stood everywhere and watching everybody. Their faces were completely expressionless. They did not look sad or sorry for the people.
When the blacksmith and his wife finally got to the front of the long line in which they waited for a hours. A soldier pushed two loaves of bread into their hands. They grabbed the bread like they were starving animals. This was all the food they could get for the entire day.
A day of very hard and painful work in the hot waiting for the blacksmith and a day of endless boring work in the noisy mills for his wife.
They broke off one tiny piece of the bread and ate it right away. Just enough to make the pain of the hunger go away. They carefully wrapped the rest of the bread in little pieces of cloth to save it for the later emergency.
The blacksmith was marched away with all the other men to the king's old forges which were now working for a full day. The forge used to be his favorite place in the world. The place where he could create beautiful things with fire and steel.
But now it became his own personal hell. The happy ringing sound of his hammer hitting the metal had been replaced by messy noise of a hundred men being worked until night. Puppet soldiers walked around with their eyes watching everything.
"Work faster," a soldier would say in his flat voice if he saw a man slowing down. "The revolution needs more swords."
The blacksmith's arms which used to be able to swing a heavy hammer for hours and hours now felt like they were made of lead. Every time he lifted the hammer and brought it down a sharp pain went through his shoulders.
The heat from the forge which used to feel warm and nice now just made him feel weaker.
'Just one more swing' he thought to himself, his whole body screaming in protest. 'Then another. Just keep swinging. Don't think. If you think and you will stop. If you stop they will see. If they will see, you will die. Just swing the hammer.'
He watched the man working next to him, a young blacksmith just like him suddenly stumble.
The young blacksmith was so tired he dropped his hammer and it made a loud CLANG sound when it hit the stone floor.
A puppet foreman was there in a second. "You are tired," the soldier said. It wasn't a question. It was like he was saying the man had done something wrong.
"I… I'm sorry," the young blacksmith said with his shaking voice. He hurried to pick up his hammer. "I just… need a moment to catch my breath…"
"The revolution does not have moments to spare," the solider said. He raised his hand and two soldiers with guns appeared right next to him. They grabbed the blacksmith by his arms.
"Wait, no! Please! I can work! I promise I can work!" the young blacksmith cried his eyes wide with terror.
"Your weakness is a threat to the revolution" the soldier said in his empty voice.
They dragged the crying begging man out of the forge. A few seconds later, everyone could heard the loud BANG of a single gunshot from outside.
No one in the forge stopped working. No one even dared to look up. They just started hammering faster. The sound of the gunshot made them feel a new cold fear that gave them a little bit of energy.
The blacksmith squeezed his eyes shut for a second. He saw a picture in his mind of his own son's body lying on the floor. Then he opened his eyes and brought his hammer down.
Again and again and again and again and again and again and again.