'When creating something, anything, a smith must always have a free heart, a calm heart. Then, and only then, can he control his creation and mold it to his will.'
Lyrian recited these words, the words of his teacher, Brokkr, in his head, as he swung his sword in a manner which justified his teacher's craftsmanship.
His goal was to create the most perfect, precise, and powerful attack on this elephant Magma Dweller. Enough though his sword and body were both slightly unbalanced, Lyrian having never mastered his fundamentals, he still tried his best to maintain a state of flow to attack.
As the dweller in front of him clenched both fists together and threw them down toward the small boy below, Lyrian took in a deep breath. For the first time ever, it felt as though he could see things a tiny bit clearer. Everything was slightly slower, only by a sliver. This alone, however, was an indicator of Lyrian's growth in the art of smithing.
