( Amanda's POV, An old blacksmith forge )
The forge was a world of itself, a realm where fire and metal danced under the watchful eyes of those who knew how to command them.
Within its fiery embrace, Amanda stood, the heat painting her face with the glow of creation, her hands steady despite the inferno that raged before her as they tried to smash the steel she was forging into as thin of a sheet as possible.
*CLANK*
*CLANK*
*CLANK*
Beside her, a figure bent with age, yet imbued with an aura of indomitable will, observed with eyes that had seen the shaping of countless legendary weapons.
"Watch the metal, Amanda," Edna's voice was a rasp, a whisper almost lost amidst the roar of the flames. "It speaks, if you listen."
Amanda nodded, her gaze fixed on the glowing piece of iron clasped within the tongs.
