Prologue Part 1
The master glanced at the sword she’d handed him and frowned.
“You want this reforged? That’s asking for the impossible.”
The smithy. A dim, cramped workshop that reeked of burnt charcoal, reminiscent of something ancient than new. The high-pitched clanging of hammers filled the air. Near the furnace where the master sat, three apprentices hammered away at a glowing piece of iron. One held the iron with tongs, guiding it under the smaller hammer, while the others took turns with heavy long-handled hammers, their powerful blows scattering sparks across the floor, some landing near her feet as she watched from a distance.
The heat inside was oppressive. Charcoal burned fiercely in the furnace, and in another corner, molten iron was being poured into molds. Within minutes of arriving, she felt sweat beading under her clothes.
The master was an old man, with white hair and deep wrinkles. Dressed in
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