Blade of the forgotten king

Previously

…It had simply changed. The temptation of the blade had been resisted, but the threat of Theron, a mortal danger, remained. I met his charge, my sword singing as it met his. The clang of steel echoed in the cavern, a testament to the ongoing struggle for power, for survival, and for the very soul of this broken land. The Blade of the Forgotten King remained on its altar, a silent witness to my choice, its dark promise waiting, perhaps forever, for another, less resolute hand. My own honor, I now understood, would have to be earned, not seized. And the path to earning it, I suspected, would be far more perilous, and far more meaningful, than any legend had ever foretold.