Uma's day didn't start with a peaceful awakening — more like Hamaron barging into her room making what sounded vaguely like a good morning song while Serosa desperately tried to pull him back. He yelled something about:
"...Forge. Work. Girl."
Uma, who had practically been hit by a bomb, shot up from her bed. Before she could process anything, Hamaron had already scooped her up, slung her over his shoulder, and carried her straight into the entrance of hell that was his forge.
He set her down and handed her a white tank top and some overalls.
"Change," he said with a big smile.
Uma, still processing the last five minutes, looked up and silently mouthed one word.
Wut.
Hamaron interpreted this as where am I supposed to change, I'm a girl — and in honestly record time, built her a small changing box in the corner, then pointed to it like a kid presenting his art project.
Uma blinked twice. Looked around. Pointed to herself. Was met with an enthusiastic nod.
What the fuck is going on with my life right now, she thought as she was gently pushed toward the changing room.
She stepped out a minute later, looking around in mild confusion before shrugging. The overalls were a little baggy — which raised the minor concern of getting set on fire — but she pushed that aside.
Hamaron looked her over and laughed before gesturing for her to come closer, launching into something about:
"...Iron.... Friend... Window..."
Uma stared up at him in utter confusion. He tried again, slower this time, fewer words.
Uma blinked once.
He chuckled and signed for her chalkboard. She handed it over and he scribbled something down.
A sad little stickman next to what looked like a window with a broken iron casing. He erased it, then pointed to Uma, drew a rod, circled it several times, and finished with an exaggerated hammering motion.
She pointed to herself and repeated the hammer motion back at him, confused. He wants me to forge? Man, I barely know how to read. She shrugged and looked at Hamaron blankly.
He simply laughed and pulled her into a side room.
If the main forge was hell, this was the ninth layer. Uma felt every drop of moisture leave her body the moment she stepped in. A giant bellows was wedged into the back wall, feeding directly into the forge.
Hamaron motioned for her to push it.
She looked at him like he'd just asked her to commit a crime.
That thing is literally the size of me. I can't push that, she thought, gesturing wildly to make her point.
Hamaron walked over, worked the bellows once with one hand, then looked back at her like see, easy.
He brought Uma over and helped her get the first pump down — which went surprisingly smoothly with his hand guiding hers.
Maybe this won't be so bad, she thought.
Then Hamaron left the room.
The bellows yanked her entire body off the ground. She dangled there, desperately trying to drag it back down through sheer willpower and body weight.
It took everything she had to get it down once.
"Again," came Hamaron's voice from outside.
She got it down a second time. By the third, Uma was starting to genuinely consider that this might be where she died.
After what felt like eons, Uma likened herself to the mighty Sisyphus — eternally condemned, endlessly suffering. A divine punishment with no end in sight.
It had been five minutes. Hamaron came in after three to help.
Uma took one step outside and was immediately blessed with cold air — then lost her footing completely and fell forward. Serosa caught her limp form, took one look at her, and pushed her back upright. Uma promptly fell backwards.
Serosa looked up at Hamaron with the expression of a woman whose childhood dog had just been murdered.
Uma, for her part, could not have followed this conversation even if she spoke the language fluently. Every word going in was being immediately translated by her exhausted brain into one of two things.
Food. Water. Food. Hungry. Water.
She was lifted off the ground and propped up on a crate. A green light emanated from Serosa's hands — and now that Uma was actually looking at it she had approximately one thousand questions. Wait — magic? I want to learn magic. What kind is that? Can I—
Every single thought was immediately silenced as the magic washed over her aching muscles like a warm current. Uma let out a long, satisfied exhale.
"...Ok, dear?" Serosa said, glancing over Uma's shoulder. Uma nodded. "Hungry?" Serosa added, producing a straw lunchbox and a pouch of water.
Uma nodded so hard she nearly knocked herself out.
Inside were two sandwiches and a fruit she couldn't identify — but she didn't care, she was already eating. Over Serosa's shoulder she could see Hamaron being thoroughly berated, all while Serosa handed him two entire baguettes worth of sandwiches without breaking her scolding stride.
Hamaron responded by pulling her into a crushing bear hug.
Serosa's brain visibly shut down. Her face went red. Her fingers hovered awkwardly at her sides, twitching like she couldn't decide whether to hug back or reach for a pan that wasn't there.
I ship it, Uma thought, turning away so they wouldn't see her shoulders shaking.
She was then lifted up like a handbag by Serosa, which was immediately met with protest from Hamaron.
"Forge... Done!!!"
What does that mean, Uma thought as Serosa turned her around and the argument began.
"...Poor girl... death."
Woah, woah — death??? Uma looked up in mock horror.
Hamaron sucked his teeth. "...Muscle. Character."
Serosa pointed down at Uma. "She's exhausted!!"
I'm alright actually. Uma held up a thumbs up.
They both looked at it. Serosa turned it into an are you kidding me look. Hamaron aimed puppy dog eyes directly at Serosa.
She rolled her eyes and sat Uma down.
"...Call. Too much."
Sure ill make sure to send a pigeon she thought sarcsiacttly as she waved goodbye to serosa
Their day was spent forging a single steel bar. Uma almost immediately regretted stopping Serosa from saving her — Hamaron basically made her do it herself, only stepping in when Uma felt like her muscles were about to detach from her bones entirely.
By the end of the day Uma was being carried back to the library by Hamaron, completely limp.
Everything hurts. She shed a single small tear. She could feel her abs forming against her will, muscles still vibrating from the effort. He made me lift a hammer double my size. She looked up at him with pure, concentrated hatred.
Hamaron didn't notice. Or didn't care. Probably both.
But as they walked, there was a sound.
A crunch. A skitter. Then several more.
Uma looked up and the memories came flooding back all at once.
Hollowmen.
Her heart lurched. Her vision blurred at the edges. The air left her lungs completely.
No. No — what are they doing here.
Three Hollowmen scuttled forward — the same patchwork horror as that night. Mismatched skin. Unnatural joints. Parts assembled from things that didn't belong together, moving in ways they shouldn't.
Uma's breathing went ragged. A panic attack clawed at the edges of her.
Then Hamaron spoke.
His voice had dropped to something quiet and level — nothing like the booming warmth she knew. Deliberate. Still. The voice of a man choosing very carefully how much of himself to show.
"...Be alright, Uma."
He set her down and stepped forward.
He walked at the same pace as the Hollowmen. Unhurried. One of them swiped at him — the blade shattered against his forearm. He responded by closing his hand around its skull and crushing it like it was nothing.
The other two lunged the same way they had lunged at Uma that night.
Before they could even wind up he grabbed them both by the skull and slammed them together.
The one with the crushed skull threw itself forward anyway, ramming headfirst toward him.
With a single clean motion he took its head off.
They all went limp.
What had taken Uma her voice, her safety, and left her bleeding in a barn — he dismantled in seconds. Without breaking stride. Without a single word.
The noise brought Serosa sprinting out of the library. She took one look at the scene — at the bodies, at Hamaron, at Uma standing there barely breathing — and her face shifted into something sharp and urgent.
"UMA!"