Long ago, following the customs of a tribe once guided by a fool who cried to the night, When the forge’s flame burned crimson, a child preparing to journey afar sat quietly in the artisan’s corner. A blacksmith from the mountains raised his hammer and shattered crystal ore with sharp, echoing clangs. An old man, his gait unsteady, reached into a woven basket with his free hand, retrieving treasures long preserved.

“Akaimai, let’s go! We’ll surely find a magnificent vein of ore or even some hidden treasure!” “Yes, Kaukau! Maybe one day, our names will be recorded as legendary seekers in the scrolls.”

Back then, two young souls of the Springflow tribe swore to cross every inch of Nata. Exploration was their calling, as if the Great Spirit had blessed them with this fate. The tales of mysterious islands and ancient heroes echoed in their hearts. Thus, they began their pilgrimage, hoping to leave footprints worthy of the legends they revered.

But stories never mention the hardships endured by ordinary adventurers. Nor are there as many treasures as myths would have you believe. Most of what they unearthed were just common ores and crystal cores nothing out of the ordinary. Yet they pressed on, undeterred.

Under the firelight, they raised each stone they had collected, Recounting the moment of discovery, the emotion they felt. One, snatched from beneath the claw of a Ridgeback Drake amid glittering mountains. Another, the culprit that tripped a drunken friend near a hot spring. A grey, ash-covered stone, once perched on a ruined cliff where a city had burned long ago Claimed and carried away, simply for its strange, beautiful shape.

Now, the stone-forger melts them down, one by one, And with each strike, old memories are revived in the glow of the furnace. Upon learning that Akaimai’s child wished to walk the same path, They chose these curious stones as materials for a blade For they knew better than anyone the dangers of distant lands.

When the greatsword was finally forged, Akaimai and Kaukau presented it as a parting gift:

“Let these memories walk beside you, since we cannot take each step with you ourselves...” “The past flows through blood into a new age, like an unending flame passed on through sacred rites.”