The damp earth clung heavy to the roots of the tangled briar patch spreading across the old church backyard. Above the overgrown garden, the early dawn sky hung like a sheet of tarnished pewter, cold, slate grey, and completely devoid of warmth. A thin, biting mist drifted lazily through the jagged thorns, obscuring the base of the crumbling stone walls that enclosed the sanctuary perimeter. Zeven stood near the centre of the clearing, his large frame silhouetted against the hazy morning light as he focused entirely on the small wooden bench before him. The metallic scrape of a whetstone, rhythmic and sharp, cut through the heavy silence of the morning, scattering fine silver dust into the wet weeds below. He ran the dark stone along the edge of his remaining silver alloy dagger, feeling t
