The Held Adze

The newcomer did not speak. He did not offer a defense, nor did he attempt to justify his desire to carry the Stillness away with him. Instead, he turned from the assembled masters, his gaze falling upon a rough, uncut block of timber that lay near the edge of the workshop. It was a piece of the forest, raw and untamed, its potential hidden beneath a rugged exterior.

With a quiet reverence, he approached the timber, his movements deliberate and sure. He knelt before it, his knees sinking into the soft bed of wood shavings that littered the floor. His hands, the untried hands of a newcomer, reached for a simple adze that lay nearby. He did not lift it to strike, but held it in his grasp, feeling its weight, its balance, its purpose.

Then, without rising, he turned his head and looked at Nyra, his eyes filled with a humble plea. “Teach me,” he said, his voice quiet but clear. “Teach me how to earn the wood to burn.”