Over the next couple of days, Luke makes a point of frequenting the inn to visit with her, and very quickly, a friendship begins to grow. After she has recovered enough from her shock, Luke asks if she would like to see his place of work. Evangeline eagerly agrees and the next day finds herself outside of a blacksmith’s shop.

     “This is where you work?” she asks hesitantly.

     “It is. My father left it to me after he died. Come on. Let me show you around inside.”

     Placing a hand on her upper arm, he leads her through the door and into the warm interior. As soon as she steps into the dim space, Evangeline's eyes are drawn to the large furnace and the roaring fire taunting her from within. Immediately, her heart slams into her ribs and begins thrumming at a rapid pace. She shrinks back to her friend's side and grips his arm desperately.

     “L-Luke?” she stammers in fear.

     “What is it? What's wrong?” he answers while wrapping a protective arm about her.

     “I'm sorry, but I don't think I can stay. I want to go back to the inn.”

     “Why? What—“ the words die on his tongue as he follows her frightened gaze to the furnace. “Is it the fire? Are you afraid of it?”

     “Please, I know it's silly. I just...” Shrugging helplessly, she crosses her arms over herself and turns away to hide her face.

     “Listen,” he begins while gently turning her back to face him, “I know you've been through a lot. Considering your experiences with fire, I understand why you would be scared. But believe me when I say you are safe here. These walls are made of stone not wood. You have little reason to fear this shop will be destroyed by flames. More than that, though, I would never put you in danger. Do you trust me?”

     Lifting her eyes to meet his, she smiles faintly and gives a barely perceptible nod.

     “Alright. Why don't you come have a seat in the corner here while I show you that fire and heat aren't always bad.” 

     With his arms still around her shoulders, he guides her to a sturdy looking wooden chair and makes sure she gets settled before making his way to an array of tools hanging on the opposite wall. As his hands begin moving deftly about his craft, Evangeline settles herself more comfortably into the chair and tries to relax her tense muscles. Very soon, the workshop is filled with the sound of snapping and popping from the fanned flames, the hammering of metal against heated metal, and the hissing and sizzling of blistering iron rapidly cooling in a bucket of water. These various noises repeat over and over as he cycles through the processes of heating, shaping, and cooling.

     Through the din of a blacksmith at work, Luke's calm, steady voice brings her attention away from his busy hands and up to his focused gaze. “When I was younger, I got too close to this furnace and was badly burned. My father was concerned that I would become afraid of the fire and would refuse to follow after him in his trade. So, he brought me back here and had me sit in the same chair your sitting in now. As he worked, he explained to me that I shouldn't fear fire, but I should learn to respect it. Fire, he told me, has the power to both harm and destroy. At the same time though, it is able to create, refine, and strengthen.

     “Sometimes, life can be like a fire in that it can injure and break us or improve and shape us. We either let circumstances crush us or let them make us stronger. We have to make the choice. I learned from my experience that fire is powerful and it deserves a healthy level of caution. However, I also learned to harness that power and fashion beautiful and useful creations with it.”

     As Luke's story comes to an end, Evangeline notices that the clamor of his metalworking has also ceased. Her eyes follow him as he moves to the other side of the room and grabs some items from a shelf. He returns quickly and sets them on the small table beside her. She peers over at the objects curiously then raises an eyebrow when she sees a candle and a pack of matches.

     “What's this?” she asks skeptically.

     Holding up a finger in a request for patience, he steps back to his work area and picks up the iron piece he had been crafting. With a poorly-hidden smile, he strides back to her side and places it on the table with the other items. Evangeline's eyes widen in surprise at the sight of a carefully shaped candlestick. Its intricate, swirling design appears too delicate to have resulted from prolonged heating and hammering. Without a word, he places the candle in its new holder and lights it. Instantly, Evangeline is mesmerized by the dancing light as it sways back and forth in the darkened room.

     In a hushed voice, Luke gently pulls her from her trance-like state and back to the present. “A flame can also create a warm, comforting glow that drives away darkness and uncertainty. For countless centuries, people have used its light to guide and direct them when otherwise they would have been lost.”

     Taking her hand in both of his and kneeling so he is level with her, Luke continues, “And even though your experiences with the power of fire have proven terrible, I can't help but wonder if it was also meant to lead us to each other.”

     Glancing first to their clasped hands then to the flickering light, a new feeling of hope and expectation wells up in her chest. “I think you may be right,” she whispers. Biting her lip and taking a steadying breath, Evangeline slowly lifts her gaze to meet his and is greeted once again by hazel eyes reflecting amber flames.