Clank! Clank! Clank!
The sharp rhythm of metal striking metal rang down the cobblestone street, a melody of labor and flame.
Each strike sent sparks leaping through the dim workshop like fireflies escaping from a dream. The scent of burnt coal, hot iron, and sweat drifted out to where Auren stood, hands in his pockets, watching the glow of the forge flicker against the blacksmith's walls.
Inside, the craftsman moved with mechanical precision, each swing of his hammer smooth yet forceful, like a man who had been born and raised beside molten steel.
"Are you perhaps the famous Herbon, the new member of the Blue Bound?" the blacksmith asked suddenly, his deep voice rumbling through the clangs as he caught sight of Auren from the corner of his eye.
Auren blinked, caught off guard.
'Is he talking to me?'
