TALES FROM THE FORGE

A smith remembers every burn.

The wound teaches the hand where not to reach again.

I want my crown back.

I want it now.

I burned the past… so I might carry the flame.

Even steel requires a place to rest.

Even the sharpest blade longs for its sheath.

Fire does not negotiate.

All belongs to the Crown—or it belongs to the fire.

Keep your tools sharp.

And your mind sharper.

I invited darkness to the table.

I survived the truth that it was always mine.

Fear is a good servant but a terrible king.

Fear still whispers, but I no longer kneel.

Some truths cannot be spoken.

Wisdom begins where words end.

The keys were always in my hand.

When there is nothing left, there is more to give.

When all else fades away, the fire remains.

Hard places breed hard men.

Fire make us inevitable.

Not all monsters have wings.

I was forged in fire.

She was shaped by the wind.

The forest claimed the dead.

I refused to join them.

The cruelest illusions are the ones we beg to believe.

Some wounds simply bleed in silence.