Years ago (in 2020), in the faraway land of Montreal, a foul demon invaded the city and terrorized the citizens. (Not a metaphor for covid. I’m talking about a real demon with horns and fire and stuff.)
The Queen of Montreal assembled the wisest people of the town and asked them to find a solution. They sent the bravest soldiers, who ran away terrified. They flew their biggest war machines at it, which were burnt to a crisp. They invoked every god they knew, tried everything they could think of, and everything failed. When they ran out of ideas, they fetched the only priest of the smallest god, the god of Last Chances, and he told them this prophecy:
“Only one blade and none other
Can, at once, and forever
Vanquish the Fiend that torments you
Only one bird can forge that blade
Small bird, blue bird, ne’er forged afore
Weird silly bird with small guitar
Empty of head but pure of heart
Only one bird, and none other.”
So they searched high and low, among the good people of the island, and finally they found a little blue Owl playing the Ukulele and singing stupid songs. She had never forged before, her head was as vacant as an outdoor pool in January, and her heart as pure as the snow right after the storm, also in January.
“Little Blue Owl, said the Queen of the Town. I don’t want to demoralize you in any way, but it’s quite obvious that you will fail and get devoured by the monster, still, you must try, the future of the world depends upon it. To the Montreal Forge therefore you must go, and there, a Master Blacksmith will teach you, and you will forge the knife that will slay the Demon.”
So the Little Blue Owl woke up early a Saturday morning (very early, as she couldn’t sleep very well that night), walked and walked, and took the Subway to Square Victoria OACI station, then walked some more, beyond the Great Silos of the Old Port, and further she walked. Here stood the beautiful old Montreal Forge. She entered timidly (wearing a mask) and stood there, shyly facing the Blacksmith.
“First, he said, a Fire you must lit. Take your coal, and light it.”
So she did. And you know what, the first time, it worked great, and roared and blazed!
Then the Master showed her how to forge.
“Heat the metal in your fire, he said. Do not burn it. If you see funky sparks, it’s too late.”
The first time she put her piece of metal in the fire, it burnt. And she saw funky sparks. And it was too late. The blacksmith was very nice and didn’t even look annoyed when he gave her a new piece of metal.
Then the forging started, and it was the coolest, most amazing thing the bird had ever done in her little life, but it was terribly difficult. Not because she had tiny arms with no muscle in it (though that didn’t help), more because this is a very precise craft that takes decades of learning and practice to master, and she was doing it for the first time ever, so she looked like a fish handling a spoon to eat an apple.
She was very slow: in the time it was taking her to bring the metal (at the right incandescent-orange temperature) on the anvil, take the hammer the right way, adjust the angle of that, the placing on the anvil of this, and again the angle of that, she had time for maybe two hammer blows before it was too cold. And the hammer blows were bad!! She had a very bad aim: she would say to her brain “hit right there” and I suspect her brain was answering “YOU CAN’T TOUCH THIS doo dooo doo dee”, because she never could hit where she wanted to!!
There was also the Holding of the Tongs. That’s not easy for someone who, like the Blue bird, has lobster claws instead of hands. Her left hand would be like “I’M GOOD I’M GOOD I’M HOLDING IT” and voom, a bright-orange-hot piece of metal would fly on the floor and go bling, and then she had to spend five minutes desperately trying to pick up a flat thing on a flat floor, with flat tongs, which is not easy.
She didn’t hit herself with the hammer, though. To be fair, it would be quite difficult to do, except maybe you could hit yourself in the face on the way up? But she didn’t.
Once the forging was done, she rested and had lunch. Her forearms were very sore, her hands had suffered a great deal, and she looked more gray than blue, but you couldn’t have found a happier bird in the world.
After lunch, the Shaping of the Blade started.
That’s when she met The Grinder. The Grinder was not scary at all when stopped, and looked pretty with its colorful ribbon, but once it started, you needed a mask, and protective glasses, and the bird was a bit worried about her fingers and the hot metal, though once she was actually grinding stuff, she was so concentrated that she forgot to be scared.
Once the Grinding was done, it was time for the Filing.
Lots of filing. And the file on the metal sometimes would make a noise like a baby banshee calling her mother, which was a bit disconcerting, but still she filed and filed, and filed again. Sometimes, she was gripped with despair because it seemed to her that the filing didn’t do anything, and yet she kept filing and filing. And filing.
She filed until it was time for her to walk back home and sleep.
In the streets, people looked suspiciously at the disgusting gray bird with dirty feathers, but the Little Blue Bird didn’t care, because she was so very tired.
The next day, she had some more filing to do, because all the pieces of the handle of the knife needed to be aligned perfectly. When they were aligned and approved by the blacksmith, it was time to heat the tang of the knife in the forge, and then to pierce the wood block that was going to be the handle with it.
The wood block bubbled and burnt, and there was smoke everywhere, and it was the coolest moment of them all, almost as cool as forging, just so cool!!
Then there was some more filing and aligning to do, but the little Blue Bird was less tired this time, so she enjoyed the filing very much, and worked at it with a light heart.
The glue part was fun, as she was a simple-minded bird who delights in putting glue everywhere. Once again, she had to use a hammer to set the rivet at the bottom of the knife, and she marvelled at her inability to hit the spot she aimed for. Also, she stuck one of her fingers in the big vice, and it hurt a lot. Still, she didn’t hit herself with the hammer, not even once!
“The knife is almost done now,” said the blacksmith. “Go to the Grinder and Shape your Handle.”
So she did. And the grinder growled and threatened her fingers and burnt her, but still she grinded her handle. Once it was grinded, she polished it, burnt it, and treated it with wax, until it was smooth and black and awesome.
Not very symmetrical, though. I’d even say, not symmetrical at all. Quite misshapen, to be honest.
“The knife must be sharpened,” said the blacksmith “Or else you cannot say that it is finished. Not to mention that, if you have to use it to slay a demon, you’ll need it to be rather sharp.”
She sharpened it, and the knife worked properly and could cut through things, even though the point became blue because she wasn’t careful enough and it overheat, but she thought it was a nice colour so she didn’t mind too much.
“There you are,” said the blacksmith. “You forged a knife. Now go.”
The little Blue Owl left the forge, tired and dirty, brimming with pride. She was so very happy that she wanted to show her knife to everybody on the sidewalk! Though she thought better about it, thinking that with demons and whatnots already roaming the streets, the last thing people needed was an excited bluish owl waving a knife. That, she thought, would be too much.
Suddenly, she noticed that people had started running around and screaming, and while she was wondering whether she had been waving her knife without knowing it or not, the huge demon appeared in front of her and his booming voice filled the sky.
“HERE YOU ARE, PUNY OWL! SO THEY SAY YOU’RE THE ONE WHO SHALL SEAL MY FATE!!”
And he laughed. His laugh was very scary, but at the same time, the owl could see that it was, indeed, funny, because she was so very small and he was so very humongous. She laughed with him, heartily.
“To seal your fate, said the Owl, they should have sent a penguin!!
-WHAT? WHY?
-Oh no, you know, just… seal, penguin…”
The demon looked puzzled, then his shadowy face brightened and he laughed and laughed and roared.
“AHAH, THAT’S A FUNNY ONE!! SEAL!! PENGUIN!! AHAHAH!! BUT I DON’T SEE THE KNIFE, PUNY OWL, WHERE IS IT? WHERE IS THE KNIFE FROM THE PROPHECY?
-Oh!! Do you want to see it?? I made it myself you know!! It’s awesome! Look!”
The little Blue Owl took out the knife from her backpack as if it was the most precious and fragile thing on earth and gave it, handle first, to the demon.
“NO, NO, said the Demon. YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO, YOU KNOW, LIKE, STAB ME WITH IT!! IT LOOKS PRETTY COOL THOUGH.
-It does, doesn’t it? And look!! I’ve added decorations on the blade!! How badass does it look??
-VERY BADASS, YES.
-And I forged it myself!! For real!! With my tiny arms! Careful, it’s sharp. And very pointy. And I didn’t hit myself with the hammer, no, not even once!! And forging is the best thing ever!!
-IS IT?”
The Owl was too eager to observe it, but the demon looked more and more puzzled, and also somehow, smaller and smaller.
“Oh yes, I’ve always dreamed of doing it, but really I didn’t think it possible that anyone would let me do it, you know. And it was difficult, look, I cannot close my right hand anymore, it hurts! And look at my hands, the state they’re in! But it was not as physically demanding as I thought.
-OH, REALLY?
-Of course, it’s only a very small knife… And I mean, of course, you, you wouldn’t even feel the hammer, would you? You’re strong and all! Also, I don’t think you would have problems with the fire, would you?
-NO, I GUESS I WOULDN’T…”
And they talked and talked (mostly the Owl) and after a while, the demon was human sized and had completely forgotten about terrorizing the city. He said so to the Owl, who was much relieved, and the two new friends, chatting and laughing, walked back along the Saint Laurent, amongst the orange cones, on their way to the Old Port.
The End.
You too, dear Reader, can save Montreal from a demon by going to the “Introduction to Knife-Making” at the Montreal Forge! Or you can support them in many other ways.