He waited for her patiently. Inside it was just as nicely furnished. Armor and weaponry hung upon the wall, showing the skill of the blacksmith who lived there. Nobody was at the counter, but there was a bell. However, behind the counter hung up by the ceiling was a familiar blade. Oblivion, it's red crystal shining.
She faltered, her eyes widening as she looked up at it. Her brows were furrowed and she just stared at it for a moment.
She looked absolutely distaught, approaching him hesitantly. There might have even been tears in her eyes as she came up to him.
Her lower lip trembled and she faltered, looking over her shoulder. "Can you tell me about Oblivion...?"
His gaze sharpened, and his expression became serious. Whenever that happened it felt as if he loomed over her like death would over the bed of someone's whose time had come. "What about it? It was my sword."
She looked up at him, stepping back from him a little. She seemed really distressed, pulling her cloak tighter around her. "But... that's it? It was just a sword?"
His grip on the scythe tightened, and he glowered a bit. "Yes. Now would you stop being cryptic? Why are you asking?"
She sniffled, looking up at him fearfully, her brow furrowed. "Oblivion is in there. Above the counter."
She made it in. As she went she would catch a glance at a young man in another room. It was open at the end, allowing fresh air for him as he bent over the anvil, hammering away at the red hot iron. He looked to be a human, about 24. He didn't see her, too busy with his work.
