MAGNETISM
The earth breathed where iron met fire, dust curled in the wake of a storm, and metal pulled toward unseen forces. Bronze and rust-colored threads curled over the surface of a carpet so rich in warmth it seemed to hum under the weight of an unseen pull. The air thickened where its fabric met the floor, as if movement slowed as if time itself hesitated before stepping away.
A blacksmith wiped his palms on his apron, tracing the lines with hands that had bent steel but never silk. A traveler who had crossed deserts without fear hesitated at the edge, feeling something hold him there longer than he intended. He spent years gathering stones and pressed his ear to the weave, listening to the quiet hum of the earth itself.