This is the city that sleeps at noon.
The clattering sound of iron and the sparks of fire. All the great blacksmith lives here, sharing a perspective about a metal that breathes a life. A fire that dances through a clank. Hands that kiss a birth. This is the city that closed the door for a stranger and lifts the glass for a brother. This is the city that sleeps at noon.
A wanderer came late at noon, hoping for direction and longing for a glass of water. He knocked several doors, and all went to waste. It didn’t take a long time until he fell at the next corner and lost his consciousness from dehydrating. Believing life was too short as his journey not near to end.
However, life didn’t give up on him that day. He woke up at midnight, finding a loud song surrounded him. Glass clanked, alcohol was spilled. A young boy, about his age, handing him a glass of water. He gave him another as the wanderer gulped through the glass as fast as he can.
“Hell of a journey, brother?” he finally asked after the third glass was being served.
“Sort of nickel and some water. Ended in a dead city in the middle of the afternoon. So, the city isn’t dead after all,” the wanderer answered as his eyes glanced the room.
The young boy laughed, “You’re right, the city is quiet nocturnal. Here, the joy started when the sun’s hiding.”
The wanderer glanced around the house, it was not quite a house but there were sets of long chairs and a little bar in the room. A man came from the only door of the room, wearing a worn-out gray apron that full of black stain and a set of gavel and hammer. He threw all those tools on the floor, joining the other set of gavel as it made a loud clank echoed through the room.
“A blacksmith,” the wanderer responded, “this is the city of blacksmith, far east of the Great Kingdom.”
“You guess that right, brother. We breathe fire like the dragon, and we paint the world in metal. This is where great things happen,” the young blacksmith lifted his own pint of alcohol. “Seems like this is not the city you’re headed then. Where is the next destination?”
The wanderer pulled out a hand drawn map from his pocket, “I’m headed north from Great Kingdom, quite a great deviation finding me here.”
“What’s at the north?”
“Dessert,” he answered shortly, put back the map into his pocket.
Not a surprise that the blacksmith asked him again, “What’s in the dessert?”
The wanderer smiled, “Hope. A city. I dream to build a city,” the wandered gave a long pause, “…but you know, we grew old, we get broken hearted, we lost faith, we stop believing, and then we stop dreaming. We let the stream take it from there. Where is chance, there is a chance. I don’t mind stranded to east as I believe I give it up to time and fate. Maybe my fate isn’t building a city anyway.”
The young blacksmith drank the last drop on his glass, “Here, we celebrate life and dream. It is in my blood, passed by my old man and my old man’s old man. Besides, I always believe that chances are never a guarantee. And though I don’t understand the concept of fate, I would just use a longer word—Reason. Old brother Oleg there…,” as the young blacksmith pointed someone across the room, “…would just use the word ‘Revenge’. Life was so ruthless on him, lost all family members in a fire accident, left at the altar by his soon to be bride, lost all his money on a fraud, and almost eaten by a lion—some people would say it was a joke, but I still believe it was true.”
“Then he takes a journey to revenge the life?”
“Old brother Oleg came half of the world here, after discovering that he got good hands at metal. He said that he won’t take any step from the city gate until the Leader accepted him to be an apprentice. Amongst all choices that he could do, he decided to take revenge on life. He wants to be the best that one day, he would say to life to just, suck it!”
The wanderer answered, “Could I just be as brave as him? It isn’t a gift, it doesn’t come to everyone.”
“What I know, life is a gift, brother. Cherish it. Old brother Ahra has a compass back at his house; he used to be a sailor long before all of his ship shattered to pieces after hitting an iceberg. You could use it to find the dessert.”
“Do you really believe I would find it? The dessert?”
“How would the city look like?” the young blacksmith suddenly asked.
The wanderer takes a long breath before answering, “It is a city that never sleeps. Simply because at night, the city dreams about what things that would happen tomorrow, or even the day after. At noon, the city carries those dreams beside every person of the city. That is why, it just could never sleep. There would be a bell tower at the central of the city, there would be a park and a pond. The bell will ring 24 times a day, there would be a song that would become a reminder that there wouldn’t be a limit above the ground. Sky isn’t a limit, it just another ground that floats. I will build a stadium. I promise a man named Knuckles back at the Great Kingdom that I would name it after him. A bakery, an ice flavored stall, a flower shop…”
It took half an hour to get all the details laid up. The young blacksmith nodded, sometimes asking the question about what the color of the city gate and the number of the gardenia flower on the road to the red bean cookie stall.
The young blacksmith smiled after the last sentence. “You remember every detail of the city as if it never leaves your life. Admit it, you’re not ready to giving up. That is all I need to believe that you will find the dessert.”
There is a certain motion in the wanderer’s stomach. It went up to his consciousness, and finally his sanity. He remembered the first reason of his journey and the last reason to give up
“Carrying a big dream like that would require a really big heart and energy after all, maybe you just really need a vacation.”
The wanderer raised his eyebrows, “Vacation? That would be the last thing I know in life.”
“Yeah, a little detour might do. Like this city, not a quite a city you would like to have in a vacation. But, sometimes it gives a clear idea what you really want to do next and what you don’t want to. I will draw you a map to Imperial and Höfn. The city of Imperial has a great food and great party every other night. If you can reach it in three days, there will certainly be a big feast on the central park, celebrating the third full moon,” the young blacksmith began to sketch a route map after grabbed a pencil on the desk. “And the city of Höfn—oh I love this city. It has a beach and a port, you can do many trading. Best quality goods are all lined up. Ah, there is also a firework festival this month. You should stay there couple of days, I will join you at the festival, it is too good to be missed. Last year, Brother Francis got a crush on a bakery lady, he got married, and already expected his first child this month.”
As the night slowly creeps out, the atmosphere heated up. The blacksmiths took turns in works, there is a certain rule to the maximum hours of work every three hours. The wanderer insisted to see the blacksmith workplace, as they called it The Bunker. Seeing where the metals came alive.
When the morning arrived, the young blacksmith walked the wanderer to the city gate. He entrusted the compass from Ahra and some metals to trade in another city, “A city that never sleeps. You should try to find a name”.
The wanderer laugh, “Actually, I did. It wouldn’t be much a surprise if I tell you right now. So, you just have to wait.”
They both smiled after that and parted when the sun greeted, leaving each other a fire that never dies.
