I reached the forge with Kai just as the morning sun peeked over the vilge rooftops.

  Smoke curled from the chimney, and the air smelled of hot iron and burning charcoal. My father stood at the anvil, hammering a glowing piece of metal. Sparks flew with every strike.

  “You’re te,” he said without looking up.

  “I was training in the forest.”

  He finally turned and handed me a small hammer—lighter than the ones he used, but still heavy for a kid my size.

  “Today, you learn to swing it.”

  I’d never worked metal before. But my father didn’t start by teaching me to make swords.

  “Don’t just hit,” he said. “Watch where the metal bends. Listen to the sound. A good strike rings clean. A bad one… just clunks.”

  I gripped the handle and swung.

  The blow nded off-center. Sparks scattered uselessly.

  Kai snorted. “You hit like you’re scared of it!”

  My father didn’t ugh. “Again. And this time—use your eyes, not just your arm.”

  I closed my eyes for a second.

  I remembered how mana moved through my body that morning in the forest. Was it possible… it moved through metal too?

  I focused—not with my muscles, but with my mind.

  And when I struck again, something felt different.

  The hammer nded true.

  Dong!

  The sound was sharp, clear. Even Kai stopped ughing.

  My father studied the metal, then me.

  “Tomorrow,” he said, “you start making your own bde.”

  ***

  On the walk home, Kai nudged me. “How’d you do that? You swung like you’d done it a hundred times.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I just… felt where it needed to hit.”

  It wasn’t a lie.

  Back in my room, I pressed my hand against the wooden wall.

  And for a second—I felt it.

  A faint pulse. Slow. Steady. Not like mana in my body… but close.

  I didn’t tell anyone.

  But I knew then—my ability wasn’t just about me.

  It reached further.

  That night, I looked at the small hammer on my desk.

  I touched it again.

  And deep down, I wondered:

  If I can feel metal… can I become it?