Gedda Foss

Gedda Foss's Arc
Chapter 2 of 6

Gedda Foss's dream is restoring his mother's pottery shack into a thriving artisan workshop..

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by @Xidan
Chapter 2 comic
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Chapter 2

She arrived two days later with a canvas bag slung over her shoulder. Gedda met her at the door and pointed toward the kiln, but she'd already stepped past him into the shack. Her bag hit the floor with a clang before he could motion for her to wait outside. The girl knelt by her tools and pulled out wrenches, setting them in a line on the floorboards. The smell rose from the shelves behind her—his mother's glazes, still sealed in their jars after all this time. The girl's nose wrinkled. She turned and looked at the table against the wall, covered in finished bowls and half-glazed cups. "This is a workshop," she said. "Why does it smell like copper and ash if the kiln's been cold for days?" Her eyes moved from the pottery to Gedda's face. "Whose work is this?" Gedda's chest went tight. He reached for the clay mound on the bench and grabbed the notebook beside it. His hands shook as he opened it and drew quickly—a simple sketch of a woman at a wheel, her hands shaping a tall vase. He wrote beneath it: my mother's. He turned the page toward the girl. She studied it, then looked back at the shelves. "Where is she now?" Gedda's pencil hovered over the paper. He couldn't draw that answer. He set the notebook down and pointed at the kiln instead. The girl watched him for a long moment, then nodded. "Alright," she said. She stood and walked to the kiln, running her hand along the cracked firebox. "I can fix this. But I'll need to come back tomorrow with more mortar. And I'll need to move some of those jars to reach the back wall." She looked at him. "Is that alright?" Gedda nodded. The tightness in his chest loosened slightly. She wasn't asking about his mother anymore. She was asking about the kiln. He picked up the notebook again and drew a simple thumbs-up. The girl smiled. "Good. I'll be here at dawn." She packed her tools and left. Gedda stood alone in the shack, staring at the sketch of his mother. He'd let someone inside. The workshop wasn't secret anymore. But the kiln would work again.

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