09: The Cup

The midday hour had already passed when I left Hephon and made my way to the pottery.

Of course, Socks knew this route as well and led me through the alleys of Tarcania to the craftsmen’s district. Except for the tanners, most of the workshops were here. As I passed by, I heard the hammering of shoemakers and coopers, the clatter of looms, the rattling of rope winches, and other sounds I couldn’t quite place. It felt like a journey back in time because many of these crafts were still alive here but I only knew them from history lessons.

The smell of fresh bread wafted up to my nose, and I realised how hungry I was. I still had a little money Marcus had given me and quickly bought a slice of bread thickly spread with an herb paste. The bread was still warm, and the herbs smelled like Southern France, which I loved so much. Would I ever see the soft light of Provence again?

Before I could get too melancholic, I had to hurry to keep Socks in sight, as he wasn’t about to wait for me. Why should he? After all, he was a cat and knew his way around, while I would have easily gotten lost in this maze.

I followed him with long strides; although he was still small, he was pretty fast. I entered the workshop and saw three men sitting at pottery wheels. They were so focused on their work that they didn’t notice me at all. I watched them skillfully shaping cups and carafes from lumps of clay. There was something magical about how vessels seemed to emerge from nothing.

The walls were covered with shelves holding finished, fired, and glazed bowls, cups, plates, wine carafes, and jugs. Most were simply coloured in earthy tones, but there were also beautifully decorated pieces with intricate patterns.

I guessed that the oldest man must be the master and addressed him.

I cleared my throat to make myself noticed. “Hello, I’m Bobbie, and Leonora sent me to make my cup here.” The men looked up, and the oldest among them nodded towards the back. Only then did I notice a middle-aged woman sorting vessels to pack them in wood wool and place them in a crate.

“Ah, hello Bobbie, I’m Mira, the master of this workshop,” she greeted me. I felt my face flush.

I considered myself progressive—I had learned to fly myself—and automatically assumed a man would run the workshop. I was so embarrassed and stammered an apology. Mira smiled warmly and said, “You don’t need to feel bad about that; it happens to many because even in Tarcania we’re not yet at the point where it’s normal for women to run a business or even be guild masters. Leonora does a lot for that, but what has settled in minds over many centuries doesn’t change overnight. It seems it’s similar in your homeland.” I nodded sheepishly, and Mira hugged me warmly.

“I expected you earlier because Leonora didn’t give you much time.”
“Yes, the visit to Hephon and choosing my sword took a while,” I replied.

Mira smiled and led me to a potter’s wheel. “Have a seat. Have you ever done pottery before?” I shook my head. I knew my task was to make a cup, but how was I supposed to manage that?

I sighed. I wasn’t the kind of woman to get discouraged quickly. My travels, flying—it hadn’t come easy either. I had to fight for recognition and acceptance. But that was back home, in my world. Even though I was used to adapting quickly to foreign cultures, especially while travelling, this wasn’t just another world like Tarcania. I felt overwhelmed, and this wouldn’t be the last time I’d feel lost in Tarcania.

Mira seemed to sense my thoughts. “Come on, we’ll do this together. Your hands will shape the cup, but I will guide them. But first, you have to knead the clay.” She winked at me, and I felt renewed courage.

I dipped my hands into the water beside the wheel, took the lump of clay between my hands, and began kneading it. It reminded me of my childhood when I baked cookies with my mother at Christmas. I was allowed to help her, and I could remember her slender hands shaping the dough into a ball from the shapeless mass.

It didn’t take long before the clay was soft and pliable. I shaped a smooth ball and placed it in the centre of the potter’s wheel. I sat down, Mira behind me, and I began to turn the wheel using the pedal.

“Good, make sure the speed stays consistent. Find your rhythm and keep it. And by the way, that doesn’t just apply to pottery,” Mira grinned.

I placed my hands around the clay ball, and Mira’s hands enveloped mine. “Press the clay with both hands to centre it. Keep the pressure even as you move the clay up and down. This will create a small, thick column.” I followed her instructions and let her hands guide mine.

“Now press a thumb into the centre of the clay lump to make a hollow. Hold the bottom of the clay with your left hand and pull upwards with your other hand to shape the walls of the cup.” As Mira told me what to do, her hands guided mine, and slowly but surely, a cup began to take shape.

I dipped my hands into the water repeatedly to keep the clay smooth and supple.

Once it reached a comfortable height, we smoothed the rim, and I slowly stopped the wheel.

“You did very well, my dear,” Mira praised me. I smiled, knowing that without her help, the result would have barely resembled a drinking vessel. “Thank you so much for your support,” I replied. “Now we’ll cut the cup from the wheel with a wire and let it dry. Then it will be fired, glazed, and fired again. That will take until tomorrow. Come back at the fourth hour of the afternoon; your cup will be ready then.”

“That’s so fast? I thought all this took several days,” I wondered. Mira nodded. “In Tarcania, we have a special clay… and a bit of magic. You wouldn’t want to face Leonora empty-handed, would you?”

I shook my head. Of course not! I wanted to prove myself worthy and not fail at my first tasks.

I thanked Mira warmly and hugged her. “Where is S… Kelo?” I almost let it slip. I still needed to get used to his public name…

“Kelo?” Mira asked. “Yes, my little black cat.”
“Oh, you mean him. I think I saw him near the kilns at the back. It’s nice and warm there—cats love that.”

I went around and there was Socks, completely relaxed, only his left front paw twitching slightly. He was probably dreaming of chasing mice. I gently stroked his head and he sleepily opened his eyes.
“Are you finally done? I’m hungry, and mealtime is soon. We have to get back to the Guild,” he meowed at me before stretching contentedly.

I said goodbye to Mira and set off back to the Guild with Socks, which was slowly becoming my home.

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