The air in the village blacksmith's forge hung thick and heavy, like a living thing pressing down on everything inside it. The furnace roared steadily in the corner, its flames licking at the iron bars Karan had left inside to heat. Sparks danced occasionally into the smoky haze, illuminating the rough wooden beams overhead and the scattered tools that lined the walls. Chains clinked softly from hooks on the far side, their metal links worn from years of use in binding unruly horses or securing heavy loads. The ground was packed dirt, scattered with bits of coal and ash that crunched underfoot. It was late evening, the kind of night where the heat from the forge made the entire space feel like an oven, sweat already beading on skin before any real work began.