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About a year ago, on a moonless night, you sneaked out of your master's workshop while he was in the throes of slumber. You blindly stumbled through the river-grasses until you were far enough from the village that you could light a torch without being seen. From there, you made your way to the titan's hand, looming ominously out of the earth at a slanted angle, as though it was reaching for something. It took a moment for you to gather your courage but sure enough, you approached the giant's grasping digits to take a closer look.
The stony skin of the titan was gouged with many deep wounds, where more swords had once been lodged. You were not the first person to think of stealing a blade from the giant's corpse, clearly – surely the titan would not awaken if you stole one more? Wrapping your hands around the leather-bound hilt of one such sword, you gave it a mighty tug. It didn't budge. Again and again, you tried to yank the weapon free, pulling with all of your strength, planting both of your feet against the stony finger as you strained to free the ancient sword.
And at last, after what felt like an eternity of effort, the blade came free. Your persistence was rewarded with a double-edged sword, its blade straight and pointed and as long as your arm, etched with a series of ancient runes that were beyond your comprehension. A long white ribbon was tied around its ring pommel, easily as long as the blade itself, catching the wind as you held the weapon aloft. Despite the passage of time, nothing about the sword had decayed and it felt almost as light as a feather, in spite of its size. In that moment, you knew that you made the right decision. You would study this sword and you would learn how to make more like it, or so you swore to yourself.
Yet you could not do so while your master still lorded over you. So you wrapped the blade in one of your winter robes upon your return to Sanao's workshop, and you buried it underneath the roots of his abode. With every day that passed, you lived in fear that he would discover the sword or that the titan might awaken, yet neither outcome came to pass. More than once, the old artisan walked right past the spot where you had hidden the sword, with no idea of what you had done. With the passage of time, you overcame your anxiety – you no longer worry that someone might discover your secret. All you need to do is wait, for your master to retire and pass the workshop down to you, and then you will be free to study the blade and learn from its steel.
Yet before that day arrives, everything changes.
It is a cool spring morning, and you are assisting your master with the preparation of charcoal – he prays to the spirits of wood and flame for their favour, while you feed kindling into the kiln. You keep your head bowed in respect and remain silent while Sanao chants, for the esteem of the elements is of vital importance.
