The Heartsmith

In a forge suspended above the clouds, the Heartsmith reshapes emotion into form. Masked in molten gold, they cradle a glowing heart—part flesh, part machine—suspended by threads of light. Around them drift fragments of past hearts: shattered crystal, rusted iron, soft petals. Each beat is a strike of the hammer, each spark a memory reforged. This is not repair—it is rebirth through fire and grace.