Jon’s father was being extraordinarily sweet in the way that he coaxed his young son to come forward towards the meltery.
The small boy inched his way closer, but the heat was way too intimidating. There was something strange about his Pa also … Jon was too young to define it, but later in retrospect he would see the unseeable, sadistic cunning.
His Mam called him to her. Only six years old and now he found himself polarised between both Mam and Pa - however he knew which of the two he always knew was the safest choice to go to.
The Ironsmith lurched forward and grabbed him by the elbow, and then abruptly forced Jon’s index finger onto a red hot pot sitting upon the forge. Jon wailed and his mother rushed to pick him up and away.
“I did it to teach him a lesson” the goblin-like father snarled back to her accusing look. “The boy needs to know the dangers of this workplace.”
Mam was appalled, but she had seen this all before. Instead of being proud of his small son, this grown man was jealous. She unwound a red ribbon from her hair and cut a piece off, and then tied it around Jon’s finger.
“I love you little Jon-Jon,” she said apologetically.
“I love you Mam.” he said back to her with a broken smile.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series
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