Still Depths (Water) × The Engine-Smith
Head down, polishing away, the engine in their mind already running ten layers deep.
The Engine-Smith grinds away at one thing in silence until it is right. Water runs a deep undercurrent of thought behind the hands, so the careful work has careful thinking moving ten layers down beneath it. So you build with a precision other Smiths share, but yours carries real intellectual weight underneath, the engine in your mind already running far below the one on the bench. The craft shows. The depth behind it mostly does not.
Your work is exact and it thinks, which is rarer than it sounds. Most makers get the precision or the depth, not both. You drill the detail like any Smith, then the thought keeps running under it, working out why the thing should be this way and not that, so what you finish holds up to far more than a glance. The Waxing Gibbous glows like a furnace coming up to full, heat building toward completion. You are the one whose work has a floor of reasoning no one sees.
Here is the catch the water installs. Deep thought, perfectionism, and inwardness pile up threefold, and you bottle the whole load until you blow up or seize up, nothing let out along the way. The work is done and you are still grinding it deeper, alone, saying nothing. Betelgeuse is the craftsman's red fire, burning over the forge. Some builds are good enough already. Press deliver, and let some of the pressure out before it has to break.
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A mirror, not a prophecy. It reflects you as you are right now. How you walk is still yours to choose.