Interlude
The girl was starving, and she was tired, and her body ached fiercely. Although that last was so ever-present, she was so accustomed to it, that sometimes she almost didn’t notice it. Almost.
She’d wandered all night across the countryside and arrived in the city at dawn.
And then she began to wander there. It was bitingly cold, snow coating the ground.
She’d managed to steal a cloak in the first town to cover the nightgown she’d woken up in.
It did little to keep her warm, and the boots she’d stolen had holes in them.
But the cold was the least of her worries.
She knew she had to find something to eat, and somewhere to sleep, or she’d end up passing out in the streets and then who knew what would happen.
It was the glow of the coals against the fresh fallen snow that caught her attention.
There, at the back of the alleyway, a glimpse of an oven, or a forge of some sort.
She looked left and right to make sure no one was watching her, and then she strode forward, following the orange flicker.
Snowflakes fell lightly, coating her cloak and stinging her cheeks when they came in at an angle.
When she got closer to the fire, she could feel the warmth radiating from it, and it was the nicest feeling she’d ever felt.
A forge, not an oven, she realized when she reached the end of the alley.
Probably a blacksmith’s shop. They’d left an open space at the back wall to vent the smoke, perhaps because the chimney was broken or blocked.
She couldn’t see much farther beyond the forge, but she heard the sound of something rattling within, and the strike of a hammer on an anvil, and somehow it soothed her.
And she knew she shouldn’t stop, but she couldn’t go on any further, either.
She was too tired and too weak from lack of food, plus her limbs had been half frozen, and now that she was here in the warmth from the forge, she never wanted to leave.
So, she sank down along the stone wall, feeling the heat radiating through, and she fell asleep in the snow.
At some point later she was startled awake by the sound of a gruff voice.
A door opened to her right, a door she would have noticed if she hadn’t been so delirious earlier.
A man stood in the doorway, bare arms the size of tree trunks, bronze and covered in a sheen of sweat. He looked down at her, and he frowned.
“What’re you doing here, girl?”
The girl looked up at him, and then she tried to get up and run. But her legs betrayed her, giving out, and instead she stumbled and fell to the ground.
She heard footsteps behind her, and then saw a huge hand in front of her face, offering to help her up. After a moment’s hesitation, she took the hand, and was lifted as if she weighed nothing.
“Stay here,” the man said. “I’ll bring you some food. I’d offer to let you come in, but I know you won’t.”
The girl stared at him, and he nodded and disappeared back through the door. A couple of minutes later he returned with a bowl of stew and a piece of bread. He handed it to her, then stepped back into the doorway to show he meant no harm. The girl sat back down in the snow and ate hungrily.
When she was done, the man said, “I could use someone to help around the forge. You know, sweep up, help with customers.”
The girl looked at him. “Me?”
“Yes.” He chuckled. “You. If you want.”
She contemplated for a moment, and then she nodded. She couldn’t keep running. At least for a few days, she had to rest. “Yes,” she responded.
“Okay, then. Good.” He nodded. “You got a name?”
The girl knew she must have a name, but she didn’t remember what it was.
Just like she didn’t remember anything else prior to the month before.
And no one had asked her that question since she’d awoken, and been on the run.
And so she answered with the first thing that came to her mind, because it was the first thing that had made her happy in over a month.
“Embyr,” she said, glancing up at the glowing forge next to her. “My name is Embyr.”
And she had no idea as she spoke those words what a prophecy she was creating.