Time passed.
How much, Faelyn wasn't sure.
She might have dozed.
Might have just rested with her eyes closed.
But eventually, a cheer went up.
Loud and excited.
Successful.
She opened her eyes.
The blacksmith was holding up the first completed piece.
A cooking pot.
Crude in finish.
Rough on the surface.
But undeniably silver.
Undeniably functional.
Undeniably REAL.
The crowd erupted in louder cheers.
Success.
Achievement.
Pride.
Something new created through cooperation.
Something impossible made real through shared effort.
More molds were opened carefully.
Each revealing its treasure.
Pans of various sizes.
Utensils shaped for different purposes.
A complete set of cookware taking form.
Silver gleaming in the midday sun.
Faelyn stood, pushing through her exhaustion.
