Forged Destiny [Book 5: Ch. 7]

A hand dove in, rummaging around metal before I brought out a thin sheet, probably part of armour once, or maybe a caravan. Gripping the edges I closed my eyes and concentrated, reaching deep inside myself. I'd never tried this before. I knew my eyes flashed because I felt it. Something shifted inside of me, and an odd sound – kind of like a whisper of steel on wood, sounded before me.

There were six scratches on the metal, three spanning out from where each hand gripped. They were deep and rough, fanning out like rays of sunlight. It was my first engraving.

And it looked awful.

That was fine. I was only here to keep myself distracted, after all. I concentrated again, this time keeping my eyes open as I watched six more lines slowly engrave themselves, crossing over the original ones in a perpendicular fashion. The sheet was chequered now, almost like some fanciful garment. On a whim I narrowed my eyes and poured my focus into the metal, scarring it over and over until the once-smooth surface was a mess of jagged lines and angry swirls.

It seems to take longer the more I want, I realised, watching the patterns etch themselves. The bigger the piece the more time, and it's easiest around the areas my hands are already touching.

—Forged Destiny [Book 5: Ch. 7]