As far back as I can remember, I've been enamored by the craft. The melodious sound of metal hitting metal. The beautiful glow of the near-molten works as they’re shaped.

It began on a day like any other, or so I'm told. To be honest, I was too young to recall how I was first introduced to our small town’s smithy. As my mama tells it, she was carrying me along with her, as she went out to trade for produce. It was near harvest, so the small market was more cramped than usual, forcing her to take a slightly different path from normal.

She says I was always a restless, fussy child. Always fidgeting in her arms, always grumbling and crying for no particular reason.

But as she took that detour around the other side of the market, she came closer to the smithy than I'd ever been before that point.

It took her a moment to notice something had changed, that I was still in her arms, silent. And at first, she was worried. Not knowing what brought about this sudden change in her little girl was frightening, and she needed to make sure I was alright.

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She picked me up from her chest, and saw my little eyes glistening, looking away from her, focused completely on something in the distance. She followed my gaze, finding in its path a building not quite so busy as the rest in town, due to its craft’s busy season being opposite to the harvest.

The smithy, forge still glowing in the afternoon light, banging of metal ringing out, muffled heavily by the crowd. And yet, even then, the sound was quite a bit less pronounced than one would imagine, not as loud or piercing.

In her curiosity, mama started in the direction of my gaze, towards this place that calmed me inexplicably. As she neared the entrance, and the clashing and clanging got louder, she noticed my little voice, still yet to call her name, as I started to hum. My lids grew heavy as the [Forgemaster]’s song lulled me into its grasp.

And I fell asleep in that place, where most couldn’t stand the heat or the noise.

And my mama knew in that moment, that I had already found what I was meant to do. Before knowing anything else, I had found my calling, the forge drawing me, as if by instinct, into its warm embrace.

And I loved it.