Orum weighed the lump of star metal in his hand.
“It can’t be smelted,” his father said. “The forge isn’t hot enough.”
“When my dad gave that to me, he said it should remind me any skill has limits,” the old smith said.
“We’ll see,” said Orum.
The next day, Orum packed tools and supplies in a sled, picked a spear, strapped on his skis, and headed for the mountains.
Years ago, men came through the village, showing gold taken from a dragon. They had snuck in and out, as the dragon slept.