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It was morning, and the rising sun was ascending the Hithaeglir, shedding light across Eregion. Cainenyo was still in his nightgown, and kneeling at the pool of his home’s courtyard. Surrounded by aromatic flowers, it was here that he washed his arms, legs, and face each morning before he got dressed. He usually spent this time thinking about the day’s work and making a list in his mind of the day’s chores.
I must finish that knife today, he thought, still sleepy. It would be for his wife Alassante, who was still asleep upstairs. The knife would be a gift just to prepare for the troubled times ahead. I might get some nice silver decoration on the hilt, something like vines, or flowers, he thought as his mind wandered over the image of the completed knife that Cainenyo had had in mind for months. I could get Arenwino to do it, or maybe Celebdur. I must stop by the silver-smithy district later today and shop around for the best quality and price possible. Cainenyo stood and stretched his limbs, and reentered the house, only to emerge moments later in his work clothes and holding a glass of blood-red wine, his usual breakfast.
He crossed the courtyard, where the shadows of the flowers were now somewhat shorter, and entered a cool arched passage, which led to his workshop. Cainenyo noticed a few people walking about the street, which would become busier as the day moved into the afternoon. He took a sip of his wine and set it on a table to put on his apron and gloves, which hung on pegs near the door. Kneeling, he removed a long key from an apron pocket, unlocked a large chest near the furnace and found the long knife he was working on yesterday. Cainenyo dropped it into one of his deep pockets.
Eager to begin his work, he hurried back into the house, where he found Alassante already awake and plucking some flowers from the courtyard. She held a blue vase under her arm, where she deposited the flowers. She looked up from her work at Cainenyo. “Hello, you’re starting today’s work?” she said smiling. It was still morning, but the sun had now risen to sit on the mountains.
“Yes, but I wanted to tell you that I’ll be searching for a smith to work on the hilt of a knife. I want some floral decoration added to it. I’ll be back later, by noon.” He explained. Alassante frowned somewhat. She enjoyed her husband’s cheerful humming drifting through the house while he worked at the anvil, and she was slightly troubled by the weaponry Cainenyo seemed to be making more and more often these days. “If anybody comes and asks for me, please tell him that I’m away at the moment and he can come back later,” Cainenyo added. He brushed back his wife’s long brown hair and kissed her on her brow. She waved good-bye as he stepped through the doorway into his forge.
Cainenyo took another sip of the wine left on the table, and then set out into the city to find a suitable smith. Alassante always thought it silly that Cainenyo wore his apron and gloves into the city, but Cainenyo explained that it was a status symbol and that others would know his craft by his clothes. As he walked down the cobblestone street he decided to head to Celebdur, the silversmith to whom Cainenyo’s son was apprenticed. His shop was across town, near the other silversmiths, but Cainenyo welcomed the exercise and fresh air.
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