The morning sun rose over Haven, casting long shadows across the village square. William stood at the edge of his house, holding the broken shards of the black blade in his hands. The sword that had killed Thomas. The sword that had corrupted the Saint. The sword that had nearly destroyed him. Now it was nothing but fragments of cold, dead metal.
Elara came to stand beside him. "What are you going to do with it?"
"I don't know yet."
"Burn it? Bury it? Seal it away again?"
William looked at the shards. At the remnants of the weapon that had defined so much of his life. "I'm going to make sure it can never hurt anyone again."
---
William brought the shards to Marcus's workshop.
The young researcher was bent over a table, studying a series of diagrams. He looked up as William entered,
