Standing in front of his workbench, he picks up the angle grinder which slices effortlessly through the layers of folded metal. The blade demands that he stop. But Troy is deaf to its protests.
The last time the sword had felt the heat of a furnace was when it was being forged, but this heat is a sacrilege, a desecration of its blade.
Cutting the sword into three pieces, he fashions them into kitchen knives to appease his wife.
Despite being in three pieces, the sword still thinks as one. The insult to its honour must be redressed.
Troy cautiously presents the knives to Sam. To his relief she accepts them, finding their form now more agreeable to their surroundings.
She plays the light over the hamon of each blade, admiring the intricate patterns left behind by the tempering process.
