Vincent stepped away from the blade he’d been working on. It had taken a month or more to get the design just right. By all accounts, it was a beautiful, functional sword; absolutely nothing wrong with it. As he studied it, however, he growled. With a roar, he snapped the blade in half and then tossed the rest aside as he seethed, then tried to calm down. His workshop had several such displays littered around the room. Nothing was good enough anymore.
Calm once again, he looked around and sighed. It was time to shut down production; of the store, of the site. No more taking order, no more ready to purchase blades. Nothing was too his standard anymore, and he felt as though that, after nearly two centuries, ennui was starting to set in. Perhaps it was time to find a new craft to study; a different metalworking profession, perhaps, or something different entirely. As far as metalworking went, the only thing he could think of was making jewelry, and that didn’t appeal to him either.
Back to the drawing board, he told himself, and left his workshop, heading into his haven to begin doing some research. The problem was, where to start? He closed his eyes and thought, but came up blank. Perhaps a bout of torpor was in order, he contemplated. Perhaps not. He was likely to have the same problem when he woke.
There was time to find a new passion, he told himself. But he hoped that something would come along, sooner rather than later. For now, a hunt was in order