The Truth of the past[3]

I remember when it all began.

It was a day like any other, or so I thought. A man in a dark cloak came to me with a strange request. He asked if I could craft a weapon for him—using a material I had never encountered before.

The substance was otherworldly. It gleamed faintly under the light, its texture neither metal nor stone. It pulsed, as if alive, and—most unsettling of all—it absorbed mana on its own. I couldn't help but be curious. What was this material? Where did it come from?

I never imagined that accepting his request would mark the beginning of my people's demise.

I took the material and set to work, trying every technique I knew. But nothing worked. Unlike any metal or substance I had ever forged, it resisted all attempts to shape or manipulate it. Its structure defied the very laws of crafting.