Rowan finally reached the edge of the forest while still holding Cardin carefully with both hands. He looked like someone who was carrying a very angry chicken. His shoulders were stiff from fear and he kept glancing around as if a monster would jump out at any moment.
But when Rowan arrived at his home, he finally let out a deep breath. Cardin looked and saw a small wooden house with a small but clean yard.
"This is your house?" Cardin asked. He was still a bit annoyed from being dropped a lot of times.
Rowan puffed out his chest proudly.
"Yes! It may be small and not very fancy and sometimes the roof leaks when it rains. But hey! It is clean and comfortable!"
Then he pointed his finger on it.
"I clean it every day."
Cardin's voice warmed a little.
"Oho... Good job, kid. At least I won't be lying in some dusty corner like forgotten junk, huh?"
Rowan nodded happily and completely missing the sword's sarcasm.
"I know, right? I hate dust. Dust is evil. It hides in corners and probably waiting to attack our lungs!"
"...Sure." Cardin muttered. "If you say so."
"Let's go inside!" Rowan said and walked inside the house.
Just like what Rowan had said, his house was small and wooden. It was a bit old but very clean. It was so clean that Cardin believed Rowan fought all the dirt and dusts every morning.
It looked cozy and warm inside. The living room and kitchen were connected with a small wooden table, three mismatched chairs and neatly arranged cups and plates. There was also a stone stove near a small window and everything was probably organized in Rowan's careful way.
It wasn't fancy but it felt safe and warm.
"Welcome to our house!" Rowan happily said.
"Mhm. Thanks." Cardin replied.
"Wait. Let me call my dad."
Rowan looked around and called his father in a loud voice.
"Dad! I'm home!"
Soon, a deep voice answered from another room.
"Coming, coming!"
A moment later, a huge man stepped out while removing the old heavy gloves he was wearing. He was tall, broad and built like a wall. And most importantly, he was covered in beard. Even his beard had beard. But his eyes were gentle as if he was someone who were carefully patting a kitten to avoid hurting it.
"Ah, Rowan." the man said while smiling under all that hair. "You're back. How did the selling go?"
Rowan's face brightened in an instant.
"I sold all five kitchen knives, Dad! I got one silver and six coppers! The butcher also mentioned that your knives were sharp and easy to handle!"
Jack, his father, gave his son a big and proud nod.
"Good work, son." Jack said. "But what's that?"
Jack was pointing the sword in his arms. Then suddenly, Rowan gasped as if he remembered something important.
"Oh, right. Dad! This is Cardin." Rowan said and proudly held up the sword. "He's a sword."
Then Rowan looked down at the sword in his arms.
"Cardin, this is my father. His name is Jack."
Jack blinked his eyes and raised a thick eyebrow at his son.
"You mean... the sword?" he asked.
"Yes! He's also a talking sword." Rowan said with full seriousness. "And he's broken and all cracked. But I will fix him or you can fix him if you want! And he talks. And hmm... Did I mention he talks?"
Cardin wished he could roll his eyes. Then he cleared his imaginary throat and politely introduced himself to Jack.
"Hello, Jack. Nice to meet you. My name is Cardin. And please don't drop me."
Jack stared at Rowan first.
Then at the sword. Then back at Rowan. Then at the sword again.
"...Rowan." Jack slowly said. "Did you name the sword?"
"Huh? No! He came already named!" Rowan quickly said. "He told me his name after I picked him up in the forest! The sword talks! Listen!"
Then Rowan shoved the sword into Jack's huge hands. Cardin quickly braced himself and expecting to be dropped for one more time.
But Jack held him firmly and turned him around. He was inspecting the broken sword with sharp eyes like a real craftsman would always do.
"Hmm." Jack grunted. "The metal used for this one is good. It is light and balanced too. But definitely broken. It has cracked everywhere and the handle is a mess. A shame, really."
Rowan leaned close to his father.
"Dad, did you hear him talk?"
Jack paused for a second. Then he slowly looked at Rowan. And then he laughed.
It was loud and hearty. Jack laughed like someone who just found out his child accidentally hugged a huge cactus and still telling him they're fine.
Seeing this, Rowan's face turned red.
"Dad! I'm serious! He talks!"
Jack laughed a few more times before he wiped a tear of laughter with his finger.
"Alright, alright. Rowan, that's enough jokes for today. Now help me prepare our dinner."
"But dad..."
"No buts. Come help me chop the firewood so we can start making our dinner. I will cook us a good potato soup."
"What do you mean you're cooking? I don't want to eat any more burned soup this week." Rowan complained.
"Sshh. Just be grateful your old man is cooking for you."
Then Jack put Cardin back into Rowan's hands and started walking outside.
"And don't talk to swords too long, Rowan. People might think you're being strange again."
Rowan froze. Cardin was silent for two seconds. And then...
"Did your father just imply 'you' are strange?"
Rowan pouted.
"Hey! I'm not strange. I'm just cautious."
"You begged me not to eat you." Cardin reminded him.
"That is called survival instincts!" Rowan proudly said.
Cardin sighed in his rusty and metallic way.
"And he can't hear me, huh?" Cardin added.
"No..." Rowan replied while shaking his head. "He probably thinks I'm joking."
Rowan looked down at Cardin with the saddest puppy eyes he could muster.
"Do you think I'm crazy?" he suddenly asked.
"Yes." Cardin answered without hesitation. "But harmlessly crazy. So don't worry about it. I think you're all good."
"That doesn't help." Rowan mumbled.
Rowan let out a sigh and shook his head. Before following his father outside to chop firewood, Rowan hurried to his room and gently placed Cardin on his neatly made bed. And then he paused.
"Please don't roll off." Rowan whispered to the sword while putting a blanket on it.
Cardin, who was once again offended but still trying to stay calm, replied to him.
"I'm a sword, Rowan. Not a potato."
Rowan hummed.
"You're right. Potatoes roll easily that's why we always keep them in a sack."
Cardin groaned.
"That's not the point!"
And with that, Rowan nodded seriously because apparently this all made sense to him. Then he ran outside after his father while leaving the sword lying on the pillow like the world's most confused guest.
Now alone, Cardin couldn't helped but muttered to himself.
"Just wow... This is my new life now? I was a hero who defeated the Demon Lord! And now I have to live with a cowardly apprentice blacksmith whose father can't hear me. Just great... Fairy King, my ass! He is just a scammer! Ugh!"
Then he let out a long suffering sigh.
"At least the house is clean."
And so, the broken sword and the cowardly lad began their new lives together.