Long ago, a craftsman sat on the edge of a great canyon and looked down at the winds racing below. Gathering a lifetime of memories, he decided to create one final pair of weapons for the people of his clan, drawing inspiration from the land they called home. Small and lightweight, they were made to mirror the gully, carved with the patterns of a storm in motion. For three days and three nights, the craftsman worked, oblivious to the passing of time, focused only on his memories and the task at hand. When at last they were finished, he smiled, lay down his tools, and passed on. Ever since, the weapons have been passed down through the clan, holding the story of their maker. The carvings have barely faded, forever the colour of a clear, blue sky.