The Distant Blade
The hammer fell for the ten-thousandth time, a rhythmic thud that vibrated up Elias’s arms and settled deep in his molars. Five years. That was the count. Five years of charcoal, sweat, and the slow, grinding erosion of his soul, all for the sake of the Distant Blade. The metal was a dark, stubborn thing, refusing to sing, refusing to yield to the heat until it was forced to give up its shape....
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