The Blacksmith

Clang! Clang!

The hammer rang out, sang out, crisp and clear. The hammer was the beat of his heart, the rhythm of his life.

He ignored the heat from the forge, even when red-hot spatters of metal landed on his arms. His skin was pockmarked with white scars, his eyes sunken ruins.

At last, the chain was completed. He affixed the shackle and sat back, satisfied. His smile never wavered when the bone-cold hands gathered his chain and affixed it to his neck. It settled into place with the others.

He picked up his hammer and began to forge anew.