Chapter 73: Invisible
Dune walked slowly through the forest village of Varrinor He passed by half-beasts haggling for fruit, children darting between stalls, and armored guards leaning lazily against moss-covered walls.
Soon, the rhythmic ringing of metal drew his attention. A forge.
The blacksmith's shop was built between two trees, with vines woven into the roof and smoke curling out of a hollowed horn that served as a chimney.
Weapons of all kinds hung along the walls, blades, axes, spears, even strange curved daggers he didn't recognize. Dune stepped inside.
The heat hit him instantly, along with the stench of sweat and steel. Several smiths were working, sinewy men and women, their hands blackened, their eyes fixed on glowing metal. One of them noticed him and gave a nod, expecting just another customer.
"Hello?" Dune spoke but it was too loud, nobody heard him. "Hello??"
"Tsk" Dune unsheathed his sword.
The room froze.
The blade gleamed unnaturally, as though it drank the light instead of reflecting it. Every line, every edge, every groove was perfect. Its weight, its balance, flawless.
The nearest smith leaned in, eyes wide. "What in the gods' names...?"
Another stepped forward, whispering, "That's no ordinary weapon. That's a masterpiece."