Kaelen snorted, turning his face back to the blade, as if he had no time for games. But the tightness of his hands on the sword betrayed that Strax's provocation had resonated somewhere within him.
The silence returned, heavy, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the muffled sound of their breathing.
Strax, however, seemed in no hurry. He settled himself against a stone pillar, his posture relaxed, but his eyes fixed like those of a predator studying its prey.
"A blacksmith who hammers away sins, forges penances, and keeps secrets..." he murmured, almost as if speaking to himself. "You're more interesting than I expected, Kaelen."
The old man didn't answer. He simply picked up the hammer and returned to his work.
CLANG.
The hammer rose and fell, each blow marked by the same solemn rhythm, a beat that filled the space as if it were the sound of an ancient heart that refused to stop.
