Rhian continued to clean.
He started from the back of the shop, picking up empty crates, discarded scraps, and old chunks of blackened metal.
He stacked what was usable and tossed out what wasn't.
The forge was alive with heat and noise, sparks flew in the background while Borik hammered on a large blade, but Rhian worked quietly, away from the action.
He wiped down the walls first, scraping soot off the corners and brushing dust off high shelves.
Then he moved to the tool racks, checking each one before placing them back where they belonged.
Some were stained from oil, others slightly chipped from years of use, but he still cleaned them like they mattered.
When the floor needed sweeping, he took his time.
There was fine black dust in every corner. It stuck to the soles of his boots and settled under the counters, but he handled it all.
He swept it up into small piles, carried it outside, then came back to mop what was left.
