The silence between them seemed heavier than the air itself, broken only by the deep sound of the old man's breathing and the crackling of the live fire within the forge. The man, his gaze hardened, held Strax's presence for a few more seconds before turning away without a word, as if his decision had already been made. He walked with firm steps to the blazing furnace, where the incandescent heart of the iron roared like a beast trapped in flames.
With an iron hook, he pulled out a thick block of metal, reddish, almost white at the end, spitting sparks that flew like embers into the air. Heat spread through the narrow space, hitting Strax like a palpable wave. He didn't move, didn't blink, just followed the gesture with attentive golden eyes.
"Go away." The old man's voice echoed lowly, without turning his face. It was a command, not a request.
