One day, in the lands of Saxasol, nestled within the vast continent of Dhiphin, as the early whispers of winter began to chill the air, a pair of blacksmiths residing in the quiet countryside stumbled upon an unexpected discovery before their humble abode. A newborn infant, snugly wrapped in swaddling clothes, lay abandoned at their doorstep.
Without a moment's hesitation, the compassionate blacksmith couple scooped up the tiny bundle and brought it into the warmth of their home.
The two were Jaden and Caston, both teetering on the edge of their thirties. Jaden, a woman of moderate height with long, flowing brown hair, possessed a sturdy build that spoke of hard work, neither overly plump nor excessively slender. Her usual attire was a practical work dress, a canvas of gray adorned with the inevitable splatters and smudges of her craft, its hem falling just below her knees. Caston, her partner, was a man with short, sun-kissed blond hair, his frame lean yet sculpted with the sinewy strength of a blacksmith. He too favored a work uniform, though his was typically a stained white.
Gently, Jaden laid the small, bundled form upon a sturdy little table. Her brow furrowed with concern, she turned to Caston. "Dear," she began, her voice soft, "what are we to do with this child? We found it right outside our door after our trip to acquire new materials. Someone must have simply left it here."
Caston's gaze softened as he looked at the infant. "You and I," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of longing, "we have no children of our own, and our marriage is still young. Our customers will likely not pry too deeply if they see it. More importantly," his tone grew firm, "we cannot leave this newborn to the biting cold of winter in these lands. We will keep this child, Jaden. We will raise it as our own."
A thoughtful expression crossed Jaden's face. "What name shall we give this child?" she asked, her eyes tender.
Caston approached the small table, his attention drawn to the bundled infant. Attached to the swaddling clothes, he noticed a small, unassuming paper tag. Upon it was a single word: "Salson." He looked up at Jaden, a newfound resolve in his eyes. "This child," he declared gently, "will be named Salson."
And so it was. The two young blacksmiths, their hearts filled with a mixture of surprise and burgeoning affection, took on the responsibility of caring for little Salson. Two years passed in the rhythm of hammer and forge, and they observed with wonder the rapid growth of the child. His first strands of hair emerged, as dark as the iron they worked, and soon he was able to stand on his own two feet for fleeting moments. But it was his fascination with their craft that truly caught their attention. Jaden would often cradle the curious toddler in her arms as Caston demonstrated the intricacies of working different metals, the precise steps involved in forging an iron axe. At the sight of the glowing metal and the shaping hammer, Salson's large, brown eyes would light up with an almost magical intensity.
By the tender age of five, Salson moved with the effortless grace of a child who had found his footing in the world. His hair, now a thick, raven cascade, reached the nape of his neck. It was as if, merely by observing his adoptive "parents" at their work, the very essence of their craft had seeped into his young being. He possessed an uncanny understanding of how to fuse different alloys, how to coax raw materials into weapons, shields, and armor. His usual attire was a miniature blacksmith's uniform, a practical garment resembling a kimono in a muted, dirt-stained gray with subtle streaks of green. A worn leather belt, faded to a similar earthy hue, cinched at his small waist.
One crisp spring day, the clang of the hammer fell silent earlier than usual. Salson, having completed his self-assigned tasks at the forge, felt a pull towards the whispering woods that bordered their property. Without a word to Jaden or Caston, he slipped out of the house, a small dagger, no bigger than his hand, tucked securely at his side, ready to explore the mysteries that lay beyond the familiar scent of coal and hot metal.