This short story came about after a reader once asked me how Himmel found the medallion in The Earthspark. At the time, I wasn’t entirely sure, but now, I’ve unearthed the true story and I want to share it with you. So for the next five weeks, please enjoy The Woodcutter as I share one chapter each week.

*Please note that this story is copyrighted and is the sole property of the author. No part of this may be transcribed, copied, or used by humans of any intelligence or artificial intelligence without the express written consent of the author. Thank you.

Chapter 1 – Bad Timing

I shouldn’t have come.

Himmel Worsden glared at the busy dirt street, leaning back into the log wall that sheltered him from the open stares of the residents of Feltus. It wasn’t his pine bark-colored hair that hung like a mat of wet leaves next to his face. Nor the pronounced limp he’d received from a tree falling the wrong way when he was a boy.

No. 

What drew their stares was his face. Deep scars pitted his skin from head to toe; a remnant from the sickness that infested the people of Feltus a year ago. Others had died from the plague that ravaged the town, but not him. He wished he had.

The few other survivors carried scars like him, mostly in places where their clothing hid the ragged flesh. In his case however, the infection had taken hold of his entire body. Some claimed that he still carried the plague. A load of sawdust.

Others stated the Great King had cursed him.  

As a woman caught sight of him in the shadows, she gathered her skirts to break into a jog. Perhaps he was cursed. Why else would he have suffered from the illness but not died? Now he endured the glares, and the constant fear of the residents of Feltus, from those who believed he was a walking plague.

The longer Himmel hid against the wall, the more attention he drew from passersby. He swallowed hard and balled his hands into fists before striding toward the blacksmith’s shop. His new saw blade was ready, and if he was going to keep filling the orders for lumber, he needed to pick it up.

Whispers and stares followed him down the street, though everyone courteously stayed out of his way as he limped toward the shop. Acrid smoke billowed out of the open barn doors, followed by pings as metal hit metal. A horse whinnied somewhere within. 

As he drew closer, a child in his path screamed at the sight of him and ran for his mother. She gave a grimace of apology to Himmel before shooing the child into the nearest store, glancing back at him to make sure he didn’t follow. Like he would. The last thing he wanted was to increase the rumors that even breathing the same air as he did would infect the populace again. 

He knocked on the open door of the barn and called, “Rowley! I’m here for my saw blade.”

Bert Rowley, the best and only blacksmith in Feltus, lifted his head from the white horse he was shoeing.

“Ho there, Himmel. I’ll be with you in a moment,” Rowley said between a mouthful of nails. The blacksmith dragged the rasp across the bottom of the horse’s hoof, smoothing it out before fitting the metal shoe. Then he pounded each nail through its slot and into the polished black foot of the large animal.

Himmel enjoyed watching the man work. He never recoiled if Himmel drew too close, nor gave him a skirting glance. He may also be one of the few people in town who never openly ridiculed him. Something Himmel appreciated. Once done, Rowley set the hoof down and straightened. 

“I finished your saw blade yesterday morning, and spent the night sharpening it for you,” Rowley said.

“Much appreciated. I’m hoping to attach it and get into the woods before dark.”

“I’ve got it right over here.” Rowley led him over to the other side of the shop, where a crate full of saw blades leaned against the wall. He lifted a gleaming steel piece from the bunch. “This one is yours.”

Himmel took the blade and stared it up and down. Each sharp tooth winked at him in the sunlight filtering through the windows. Its clean edges gleamed, eager to bite into wood.

“It looks great. How much do I owe you?”

Rowley picked up a rag and wiped his hands before leaning against a workbench. “It will cost you eighty andari.”

“Eighty?” Himmel nearly dropped the blade. “Last time I bought a new blade, it was fifty-five.”

“I’ve had to increase my price due to how hard it’s become for the smiths to locate enough iron for tools. All metal these days is being diverted to Silverlen to build up the mine and transport the silver they’re pulling out.”

Himmel licked his lips. He didn’t have enough. He’d barely been able to scrape together enough andari to pay what the price used to be.

Rowley must have seen his discomfort. “How much do you have on you?” he asked.

“I’ve got fifty-five at the moment. I won’t have more until I can cut a few more trees, for which I need this. My last blade broke a week ago.” He held out the saw blade.

Rowley rubbed his chin in thought. “I can’t lower the price, but I’ll let you pay what you can today and collect the balance from you after you sell your next haul of trees. Is that fair?”

“You’d do that for me?” Himmel couldn’t believe it. No one, especially since after the plague, gave him any kindness.

“You’ve never tried to cheat me in all the years I’ve known you, which is more than I can say for others.” The blacksmith’s eyes strayed out the doors to the street, where a couple paraded arm in arm into the general store. 

Himmel curled his lip at the sight of them. He really needed to leave town if the Meyers had finally gotten themselves out of bed.

“I hate to accept charity,” Himmel said, dropping his gaze back to the saw blade.

Rowley clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s not charity. It’s a debt and I’ll collect interest. Have Betany bake her current berry tarts and bring them with you with the rest of what you owe me.”

The man’s contact startled Himmel. Few people ever touched him, and those who did skittered back as fast as they could in fear of catching what was left of his plague disease.

“I’ll be back in a month, then,” Himmel said, bowing his head. 

He staggered back into the sunlight, awed at the kindness of Rowley. Something he’d almost forgotten existed. He’d do more than bring Betany’s terrible jam tarts to pay the interest he’d owe Rowley. He’d find the biggest tree he could cut and sell the large slabs of wood to the city broker he met with each month. 

His smile vanished immediately as two people blocked his path.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the great scar sprite. Tell us Schrat, who were you planning to infect today?” 

Himmel clenched his fists around the thin spine of his saw. 

“If only I were still contagious enough to infect you two. Then I’d be doing this town a service,” he said. His teeth bared in a sharp smile.

Jude Meyer puffed up his chest. “As councilors of this town, it is our duty to protect our citizens—”

“More like you assume you need to fill your purses,” Himmel said before trying to sidestep the pair. 

Nadeen, Jude’s wife, blocked his path next. “You’re behind on your taxes again, Himmel, and it’s time you paid up.”

Himmel folded his arms, displaying more of his pitted skin. “I’m surprised you’d want to take something an infectious person like myself has touched. Besides, I already paid my dues. The king only requires us to pay once a year, unlike you two vipers. You think you can bleed us dry just so you can adorn your home with more silver from the North.”

Jude raised his fists. “You dare accuse us of misusing funds of our fair town?”

“I could accuse you of many more things, Councilor, but I must return home. Some of us here actually work.”

“We work, you thrice dead cadaver. We care for the people of this town, and we ensure their safety. It’s also our job to ensure we have enough trade to sustain our dwindling resources.”

“Yes, your care is as helpful as the notorious Guardians who nearly broke the world with their wretched medallions. Maybe you should try channeling their black magic to see if it will help you destroy this town faster.” 

He pushed by them once more, and this time they let him through.

“You best watch your back, Schrat,” Jude called.

Himmel raised a dismissive arm in the air and strode down the street and out of town, thinking of two other things he could fell with his new saw.

Read Chapter 2