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Chapter 6.4
publish date:
2025-10-04 05:30:20Grief 6.4
***
The three of us walked into November in the way a town walks into a familiar church: quietly, with shoes tracing out well-trodden paths on feet that proceed on solemn autopilot. Despite the weather warning of light showers this morning, the sky was mostly clear on All Saints’ Day, wisps of cirrus hither and thither with a gray blanket in the distance, a sign that the later afternoon would have some precipitation.
We got up early &ndash
Latest chapter
The Ironsmith's Mandate Chapter 8.4
Commencement 8.4***San Vicente didn’t grow the way cities usually do.It didn’t sprawl or rise or reinvent itself overnight. It accumulated. Like driftwood on a shore. Like stories layered on top of each other until you couldn’t tell where one ended and the next began.The mall was the best example of that.From the outside, it looked like any other provincial shopping center trying its best to pretend it belonged in a capital city—glass façade, polished signage, a banner advertising a seasonal sale that had clearly overstayed its welcome. But if you knew where to look—if you walked past the newer storefronts, past the air-conditioned boutiques and chain restaurants—you’d find the older bones underneath.The bowling alley sat right in the middle of those bones.Once upon a time, it was a stopover station, so Jaric had told me. Back when the national highway was the only artery connecting San Vicente to the
The Ironsmith's Mandate Chapter 8.3
Commencement 8.3***“San Vicente, Maximo.”The name sounded different when it came through a microphone.It always had. Even during tournaments, when announcers stretched it across speakers and turned it into something louder, sharper—something meant to echo. But this was quieter in its own way. More deliberate. Like it was being weighed before it was released into the air.For a fraction of a second, I didn’t move.Then my body remembered what to do.I stood.The chair legs scraped faintly against the varnished floor. The noise barely registered, swallowed by the swell of applause that rose from the gymnasium like a tide hitting stone. It wasn’t thunderous—not the kind that shakes your bones—but it was steady. Warm. Personal.I stepped into the aisle.The walk to the stage wasn’t long. Maybe ten steps. Fifteen, if you counted the slight detour around a crooked chair. But in that moment, it stret
The Ironsmith's Mandate Chapter 8.2
Commencement 8.2***The blinds in the faculty office never fully worked. Every afternoon, the sun would wedge itself between the slats and stab the room with thin, golden blades of heat. March sunlight was the worst kind—bright, unforgiving, and absolutely determined to expose every speck of dust in the place.Dr. Harry didn’t seem to mind. He lounged behind his desk like an overconfident villain in a spy movie, feet up, dark glasses on, fingers steepled. His coat was draped over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled up, revealing forearms that looked more like they belonged to a boxer than a school doctor. He had a way of occupying space that made even the air feel sarcastic.My report card lay on the desk between us.Nineties. Low nineties. A polite, humble line of 90s and 91s and 92s, with the occasional 93 when I’d accidentally cared too much.He lifted the sheet like it offended him. “Ninety-two?” he said, raising an e
The Ironsmith's Mandate Chapter 8.1
Commencement 8.1***The ceiling fans did their best, but they only managed to push the heat around. It was that kind of early summer afternoon — air thick as syrup, sunlight pressing through the gym’s tall windows in molten ribbons, the smell of starch and perfume and floor wax tangling in the stillness. Rows upon rows of white-and-gold chairs faced the stage where the podium waited, a humble wooden island drowning in the promise of speeches about the future.It was graduation day at Southern Cross High School.We looked like an army of candles about to melt: cream uniforms stiff with starch, golden sashes drooping under the heat. The principal stood at the microphone, his voice amplified by speakers that whined every few sentences, talking about excellence, about honor, about the “boundless horizons that await the youth of today.” I tried to listen for a minute, but the words washed over me like the steady rhythm of a tide I’d
The Ironsmith's Mandate Chapter 7.5
Passing 7.5***The visiting bus from Alba Precepts Preparatory Academy rolled into Southern Cross High’s courtyard just before noon—a gleaming, tinted leviathan that looked too polished for the cracked concrete of the lot. Even the crest painted on the door—a silver tree wrapped in a chain—looked smug. Students spilled out, laughing, confident, their uniforms pressed and immaculate. You could smell the perfume of money and discipline.Jaric whistled. “Fancy lot, huh? They look like they practice sword-fighting and table manners.”Dr. Harry chuckled. “Don’t let the shine fool you, Jaric. Some of those kids train hard enough to break marble with their teeth.”Coach Greg stood beside him, arms folded, his weathered face unreadable. His voice, when he spoke, was the gravelly calm of a man who’d seen a hundred bouts and only half as many explanations. “All right, Southern Cross, eyes up. Remember: they’re here
The Ironsmith's Mandate Chapter 7.4
Passing 7.4***The first day of school after Christmas break always feels like stepping into a place that forgot you briefly. The air around Southern Cross High still carried that odd blend of new notebooks, disinfectant, and sunlight striking wet pavement: a combination that made you feel both refreshed and uneasy, as though the halls had been reset while you weren’t looking.Jaric swaggered beside me, as if the weeks away from classes had only polished his confidence instead of taming it. His bag hung off one shoulder like a prop, his grin already set to “default mischief.” The morning light caught the faint tan he’d earned from afternoons of pretending to “rehabilitate” his arm while actually flirting at basketball courts across San Vicente.“Ah, I’ve missed this smell,” he declared, spreading his arms as if greeting old friends. “School’s back, my man. New semester, new rules, same cafeteria food.”“So much for New Year’s reso
The Ironsmith's Mandate Chapter 4.6
Perception 4.5***There were pictures of him, during his wedding to Grandmother.Which was why I was able to recognize him, even in a dream.This wasn’t the slow, dignified old man who had kept the town’s patrimony like a locked drawer in his voice, but quick-wristed and bright-eyed, with all the
The Ironsmith's Mandate Chapter 4.5
Perception 4.5***Contrary to popular belief, the fighter’s high doesn’t go away quickly.It leaves in waves, like you’re standing in knee-deep water on the beach and before you know it, you’re up to your neck in seawater thanks to the undertow.I was already in the waiting room with Dr. Harry run
The Ironsmith's Mandate Chapter 4.3
4.3 Perception***From there, everything seemed like a blur as we went from watching Jaric practice to making our way to the arena.I don’t know… for some reason or another, I was a lot more locked in than usual.Was it because of my birthday? Probably.Were there any other reasons? I could look in
The Ironsmith's Mandate Chapter 6.5
Grief 6.5***Miss Salve and I started the holiday decoration on a Sunday, because miracles often come to small towns on days that do not conflict with the three b’s.(Yes, even in an out-of-the-way town like San Vicente, the three b’s of sports reigns with an iron fist: basketball, boxing and billi
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