As a storm had built overhead in the clouds, Yanyue's plain gray scales had darkened to a steely blue-gray with darker fur than that. Equally, their introspective mood upon hatching, about life and freedom, had shifted to a feeling of thrilled excitement regarding those same things, no introspection required.

Static darted through their fur without their notice, and they ran. But they wanted to run even faster. Suddenly, the air began working with them, and for a long moment, they felt like they were flying, almost. Yet far too soon the feeling ended, leaving them in front of an inviting entrance to somewhere that didn't really look like an ordinary crevice.

It looked, perhaps, occupied in a way that the rest of the world so far had not. If in a different mood, perhaps Yanyue would have hesitated.

But it was a storm outside, so instead, the scrawny little baby noodle bounded in, eager to see what was inside.

Within the cavern there was a deep, almost smothering heat, a striking opposite to the cool, wet wind blowing outside. Where the bay was wild and filled with rain and waves, the interior was relatively quiet, bar the low rumble of magma beneath the stone.

The dim light was likewise warm, and a black-cloaked figure with a masked face and horns was peering up from an anvil set against the wall. The red gleam of lava illuminated him from a forge likewise dug into the cave, and the stranger lowered a hammer that was held in one hand. The other hand remained carefully pressed down atop a piece of dented metal, and he cleared his throat, speaking warmly but haltingly.

"Hello. Are you... taking refuge from the storm? Welcome... to the Workshop."

@Yanyue

"Woah, it's hot in here!" the child proclaimed firstly, and with a thought attempted to give a burst of air to cool themself down. It worked fairly well, a pleasant gust that cooled themself.

"Hi! What's a refuge? I was exploring. I hatched recently! Thank you for the welcome, though! What's a Workshop?" Yanyue inquired, rapidfiring words with enthusiasm.

The child tilted their head with curiosity, observing the being before them fully. "You seem cool- Like, in an awesome way, not the temperature way, I mean, since it's actually pretty hot in here."

Outside, the storm started to settle into more of a rain. The child's scales gradually shifted to a deep blue, the gray tones gone.

As the shift occurred, the child's energy flagged, as if the talking had drained them, perhaps, to those that did not know otherwise, like the child. They glanced outside, a bit forlorn. "...I hatched, so I'm free from my chrysalis. But... is freedom freedom if you can only touch the ground, seeing the air but never existing in it?"

"What is freedom, you think?" they asked, voice having grown softer since their mood had turned.

"To take refuge," the blacksmith answered gently, setting down the hammer, "means to find shelter from something. In this case... the storm." A mild gesture of one hand indicated the rain outside. "It is hot... because this is a forge," he added, in his halting way.

He made his way toward Yanyue, admiring their design as he did so. The same aesthetic informed his own preferences: sand gardens and tea, katana blades and blossoming cherry trees. He met the child halfway, then offered a bow of respect and greeting. Ahh, but-... what a tangled question they asked! He exhaled softly, blinking at the depth of it. "That is a question with... many layers, I think, and many answers. If you are in... no hurry, I might make us tea, and we can... talk it over? There is more to it than you know," he added, thinking over the chains that lay throughout the cave--indeed the very nature of the caves themselves. From metaphorical cages to literal rebellions, the question of 'freedom' was one that had shaped the very Fate of this place.

A vague sadness touched him, though he did not yet know why.

@Yanyue

Forge, that was a word that the child thought they knew. To forge was to create, they thought. But 'a forge', that was a place. And what did being hot have to do with it all, they wondered.

"I don't understand," they admitted, saddened by this lack of understanding. "What does a place being hot, have to do with creating...?" Yanyue voiced, trailing off with uncertainty.

Yanyue blinked at the bow, but they tried to reciprocate the motion as best the could. And then the other offered to talk over their question, and Yanyue gave a soft expression that held a bit of hope to it regardless of their saddened mood. "I am in no hurry, and I think I would like to talk it over. It feels very important. But also, I think I don't know a lot of things. I don't know what tea is, either. Will it be a bother to you, to explain things to one that knows so little?" their voice had slowed down considerable from their earlier excitement, with natural pauses.

"My name is Yanyue, I should have said that earlier. May I ask your name?" they introduced themself, and politely asked for introductions in return.

The Blacksmith seemed pleased, a kindness to his voice and gestures as he turned to lead the way farther back into the workshop.

"I enjoy visits... from your kind," his answer began. "Please, ask as many questions... as you like. If I grow weary... I will tell you."

He cleared a space at the back, moving scraps of leather and nails from a small table. This space was a little alcove, different from the rest of the workshop, though the forge's work had bled into it in the form of those bits of scrap and scattered tools. But a tiny bonsai tree was kept in a blue ceramic pot in the light of a lava flow, and two sheets of old, but clean, light blue and light green silk decorated the walls. Shelves held things like plates and cups--and a kettle, which he dipped into a nearby trough and set on a ledge beside the lava. He then busied himself selecting a pouch from among others on the shelf (glancing back at Yanyue as he picked, as if trying to decide what flavor the dragon might prefer) and preparing cups. And all the while, he spoke.

"This workshop... is a forge. The heat allows us to shape the metal. It makes it... soft, so we can form and mold it. I am... The Blacksmith. That is what... I am usually called," he went on.

Deft hands moved cups to table, shifted pinches of tea into a small metal ball with holes, and moved the kettle closer to the heat. "Freedom... is, I think... the ability to follow your wishes and your dreams. To do... what you would like to do. To follow... interests, and whims. Without... hmm. Being restricted," he said aloud, but it bore a thoughtful tone, as if he were only now truly putting a definition to it. "It is... abstract. But restriction... it may be in the form of the physical. A cage. Gravity... as you mention? If it bothers you... or chains. Or it may be, too, abstract... Rules, or threats... Does this make sense?" he asked, tapping claws on the kettle.

It wasn't boiling yet, but he gestured to a pair of carved wooden seats. Yanyue could fit on one, if barely, and other chairs sat waiting in the shadows for more guests, all in different sizes. "Sit... the water must boil, before... I can make the tea." A soft peppermint smell, with hints of green and fruit, now rose from the cups--the dried leaves were fragrantly aromatic.

@Yanyue

To Yanyue, it sounded as this being was lonely, perhaps... Yet he seemed so very kind. It struck Yanyue as distinctly saddening that a kind being could be alone. "You are not my kind?" they asked with soft confusion. "Not a... gembound?" the word itself was still somewhat new to them, fresh as they were to the world, but that was what Yanyue was.

"Is that... a title or name? 'The Blacksmith?'" their questions were more subdued, with a hint of some sort of melancholy, but Yanyue did not think much of that. The rain continued to pour outside. Instead, they thought that they would not like going without their name entirely.

"Do you prefer a title? Or a name?" Yanyue asked, voice soft and curious.

"Without restrictions... I see." The dragon pondered this. "Restrictions... like being bound to the ground." Yanyue nodded, assimilating this knowledge.

"Are rules bad? If they restrict freedom?" Yanyue asked. The word 'rules' did not sound innately bad to them, not like the word 'threats', but it also restricted freedom. There was also something else, as if it was on the tip of their tongue.

Yanyue climbed up onto the chair, all one foot of scrawny dragon. "That smells... nice," they commented, in their softer tones.

Suddenly, they paused, realizing what was there, on the tip of their tongue. "Gem... bound? they repeated the word they had said earlier, now with a deliberate pause. "I understand that gembounds have gemstones. But what about that makes us bound? Doesn't... Doesn't bound mean restricted?"

Suddenly, the term 'gembound' seemed quite concerning, in a way the child had not thought to consider.

The Blacksmith considered, and shook his head. "No. I am not... so different. But my creation was... other." He didn't elaborate, for now. "As for my name... it is a title that has become... a name. I find it... suiting." He offered a brief and kindly glance.

He took a moment now to pour the tea, settling the metal ball full of leaves in first one cup to steep for a few minutes, and then the other. "Be careful... it is hot," he warned, pushing it over. It would, once it had cooled enough, taste of peppermint and green tea, and a little bit floral.

Then he took his own seat, curling his cup between his hands. They were old cups, delicate ceramic, and his had a small chip that had been repaired with gold. "Rules... hmm. No, I do not think they are... always bad. They can help keep... an order, to things. To create... frameworks... and outlines for us to work in. It would be... terrible, if we could not trust one another... if there were no rules on conduct. If you could not... visit, without fear of harm. As for... 'gembound,' I do not think it's... bad. Bound can be... physical." He turned, and gestured to the katana at the wall. "This blade... it has a hilt, bound in leather. That is all that... this word means. Your stone is your source of power, in a sense... your life. Our bones are bound within us... but that is best, yes?" he asked, amused.

He blew on his tea, and leaned back as he lifted cup to mask-face, sipping. He studied Yanyue for a moment, wondering at the moods that seemed to drift along with the dragon, and then tipped his head. "You wish... to fly?" he asked them.

@Yanyue

”A title that has become a name… I suppose as long as you like it, that is good,” Yanyue offered. Perhaps a title that was meant well, Yanyue wouldn’t mind being callef that all the time either.

”I did not know that there are more ways for beings to be created,” Yanyue spoke, voice soft with thought. ”I simply hatched alone from a chrysalis, though I met someone else soon enough.”

Outside, the rain had stopped, and some clouds sat overhead, though they were slowly clearing.

Yanyue’s hues of their scales gradually shifted from a middling shade of blue to a light gray.

The noodly dragon sniffed at the tea, and they relaxed from the scents. ”It smells good, but I am worried that I will break the cup. They are very pretty, especially yours,” they spoke, tones still soft but without the same subdued sadness as prior. Simply thoughtful.

”In a way, perhaps rules keep our freedom, maybe?” They suggested, after a pause to introspect some. ”Like… without knowing that ‘code of conduct’, we could not safely act without being afraid, and fear makes us feel threatened, which also binds us from feeling free to act.”

The sun came out outside, faint clouds clearing, and the dragon shifted fully to pearly white, just as the other shared insight regarding bones. The child gave a surprised laugh. ”That’s a good way to think of it, I suppose!” they grinned at the thought, and then they leaned forward, ever so carefully, and tasted the tea. It would be inconsiderate not to try the tea after it had been made, even if the cup was impossible for them to hold.

It was warm, but pleasantly so at this point, heating them up inside without the discomfort that came from outward heat. More like basking in the sun than sitting next to fire. A part of Yanyue wished they could have curled around the cup. The tastes were intriguing, different from other things it had tried before, limited though those things had been. ”It’s very different, this tea, but I like it, thank you.”

They remembered more pouches, some looking different than others. ”Does all tea taste like this?” they wonder with innocent curiosity.

At the question, they brighten metaphorically (this time), and they nod with enthusiasm. ”Yes! Flying is… It sounds like a special kind of freedom,” they say, delight sparkling in their eyes.

”Sometimes, when I run, and the wind follows me, I almost feel like I’m flying!” the child proclaimed.

”But, I know I’m not,” Yanyue admitted. ”Flying would be so cool, though!”

The Blacksmith sipped his tea. "I repair them... if they break. Don't worry. When I do, I use... prettier things. Gold, or silver... so that it is still precious. And shows... where it has healed, and become stronger." He sounded softly pleased, at this, as though still happy to look upon the golden cracks in the cup.

He drank again as Yanyue waxed philosophical, nodding along a little. "That is... a very wise way to look at it. And to say it." It was amazing to this day how these young ones could sometimes see more clearly than the ones who had been alive for centuries. A new perspective; that's what it was. And a good one. He took a moment to ponder it, to turn it over in his mind and commit it to memory, genuinely paying full attention to it. "Yes... very wise."

And--oh no, tea. The Blacksmith leaned forward almost imperceptibly, his gentle passion for his crafts rising and becoming very audible in his tone. "No... not all tea. There are many kinds. This is a blend..." and for several long moments he rambled contentedly about his various types of tea, how he grew the plants, what the characteristics and flavors were, what sort of issues each tea was good for treating, and so forth. He was out of breath by the time he stopped, but seemed quite pleased to have been asked.

He glanced around his workshop as Yanyue spoke of flight. "I enchant some things... as well as smithing. But I cannot help you... to fly. I could help with... moving through the air, but it is... slower. Less precise. Not as much freedom... as flying, but if you wish..?"

@Yanyue