An Ember in the Wind, Sec. 1 - 5

1


Mara admired the sky. When hard times struck her family's farm, her mother told her to look up. So she did. She soon convinced herself that simply looking up solves nothing, but nevertheless found the sky fascinating. Gray skies were her favorite. Cold, gray days were frequently peculiar days, and life was always more fun when peculiar things were about and ready to be explored. She pondered the behavior of the sky. It so frequently changed colors, but always in a peculiar order: blue, gray, white, gray, orange, white, black,...

What controls the sky? she thought, as it would certainly seem that if it were free, it could choose to be any color it wished to be!

Indeed, the sky was never of the colors red, pink, or aquamarine. "Don't fret, sky," she would say. "You can be aquamarine if you wish. There are rules of etiquette dictating how one should present themselves, and I understand that. But we're friends, and friends should encourage each other to explore and become better people."

Of course, the sky didn't respond. But Mara laughed and danced through the field, occasionally looking upward and calling to the above. How grand it would be to see a green sky! she thought. To see a free sky... free to be any color it wished to be. And I could fly up to the sky and introduce myself. The sky would not have to feel shy I hope. For I would think the sky would be friendly.

It would say... hello, Neece Louise! It is so lovely to see you! And I would have to correct it and tell it my name is not Neece Louise. It is Mara! But skies have not much in the way of memory, and so I could not blame it for having not remembered my name. And of course, I would forgive it. I like to think of myself as a kind person, and forgiving is the sort of thing kind people do.

Oh, how wonderful it would be if people could talk to the sky!

Mara laughed as she spun herself, arms stretched, in the field. Her long, black hair whipped around her, cutting through the dust she kicked up. She plucked a daisy from the grasses, smiled, and exclaimed, Oh! And how wonderful it would be if people could talk to flowers!

But the daisy did not have any words for Mara. It drooped in her hand. She studied it carefully, pondering how it got onto the field in the first place. "Are you a visitor? Don't be shy. My name is Mara. And what is yours?"

Her attention was seized by a loud snap.

The field was a small clearing just a few yards away from her father's house. It was too small, and full of rocks, to farm. It was on too much of a slope to build a decent house. Indeed, it was of no use at all to anyone except to Mara. It was her field, an empty canvas on which to paint a grand world for herself.

Today, though, there was an intruder on the field. Mara watched with curious eyes as a man cut across it. He wore all black, and was too far for her to make out much more detail than that. He did not notice her. He marched straight toward the house, crunching twigs, branches, and any other debris without notice.

The man stopped at the door for a moment to inspect his satchel. He knocked on the door thrice with a calculated motion. Mara stood in the field, still and silent, with great curiosity, as she watched the man enter the house.

Visitors on the farm were rare. When they did come, they usually were couriers, bringing goods from the market. Such days, spread very far apart, were happy occasions, if only for the adventure of seeing a new face.

Yet, Mara was not eager to greet this man. She continued to watch the house in silence, and stood very still. He did not look like the other couriers. He gave her an uneasy feeling.

But Mara, like the cat, was curious. And, often, curiosity got the better of her. She slowly made her way through the fields, being careful not to make a sound, and approached the house.


2


By the side of the house was a small pile of firewood. The pile was always lopsided. The bottom logs had long since rotten, and nobody had bothered to remove them. It was the log pile where, last year, Mara thought she saw a fairy. She was so excited she ran to her father, who immediately scolded her. "Stop being silly!" he sneered. "Go help your mother."

Mara never saw the fairy again, but she was always careful when she climbed on its home. The log pile afforded her a view of the main room of the house from the window. She was seldom allowed in the house when visitors arrived, but demanded to know all the happenings. She carefully climbed to the window and peeked inside.

The man and her father were talking. Like always, Mara was too far to hear what was going on. It seemed nothing interesting was going to happen. She began to grow bored and her mind wandered back to the daisy. It was just a moment later when she saw the man look to the left, look to the right, and hand her father a small envelope. The envelope was ivory, with a wax seal that bore the initials "AQ". It was bulky, perhaps full of coins, and had some writing on the cover which Mara could not read from her distance.

Mara loved to read. It was rare in these days for commoner's children to read, much less a girl. But her father, a tradesman of a trade she didn't quite understand, frequently brought home books and pamphlets and other materials produced from the recently devised printing press. As much as she loved to read, she loved to imagine, and what she read often was not what the text said.

This time, though, she focused very carefully on the envelope's label. Soon her father placed it flat on the table, and disappeared into the back room.

Mara stared into the sky for a moment. She could not shake the horrible feeling, nor determine why she felt it. She shook her head and scolded herself. Acting silly will not help anything at all!

She took a deep breath and wandered to the front door. As hard as she tried, she could not bring her hand to turn the latch. She could feel the cold iron in her hand, but no will to pull.

Suddenly, she heard a click. The door swung open. She looked up and her heart leapt out of her chest. The man in black stared down at her.

For several moments they stared at each other like cats. Mara gulped. The man had a crooked nose and aged skin that had been tortured by the sun. He flashed a grin that was missing several teeth.

Mara turned around and ran off into the woods.


3


Mara ran further and further into Carrboro Forest. She ran so far and so long she soon began to forget why she was running at all. When she stopped, she found herself in a part of the forest she had never been. She couldn't recall ever having trekked so far into the woods in her life.

The forest canopy was thick, cutting out nearly all of the sun. Mara's eyes grew wide at every creak and snap. She heard a loud pop behind her. She quickly spun around and found herself staring face-to-face with it:

Nothing.

She shook her head and scolded herself for acting silly. She then wondered if, perhaps, nothing was the greatest thing to be afraid of. Certainly man has been afraid of nothing more often than something, she thought. She scratched her head and took another look at her surroundings with more focused eyes.

For the most part, nothing struck her as unusual. She had seen flowers and shrubs and tree trunks before. But there was a path, obscured slightly by a bush. The path lead through a little tunnel formed by thick foliage. From where she stood, she could not see what was at the other end. But something cast a soft, bright blue glow.

The light ricocheted off the wet leaves and danced through the dust like little trapeze artists, beckoning Mara to watch their show. She stuck her hand through the bush and watched her hand glow.

Mara heard another snap and quickly backed away. She shook her head again and scolded herself for worrying about the squirrels, skunks, and other forest creatures scurrying behind the shrubs.

She sighed and turned back to the tunnel. The light at the other end soothed her. It called her to come closer. She carefully pushed the foliage aside, closed her eyes, and poked her head through the leaves. When she opened them, she found two black dots staring at her. She was just pondering how much they resembled eyes when the rest of the face came into focus. It was a dark face - a shadow, with barely noticeable features. When it suddenly thrust itself at her, she shrieked and pulled her head out of the foliage.

Mara did not immediately run. She gazed into the bushes. The face stared back. She could feel her breath tightening, and a sharp chill run down her back. The face stared calmly, silently, and without motion.

Mara breathed harder. She could feel herself slowly backing away, but was not aware of doing so. When she stepped on a branch and nearly fell over, she quickly regained her composure. She let out a tight scream, turned, and ran further into the woods.


4


Mara ran out of breath. She fell to the floor and gasped for air. Not very far in the distance was a small house. It stood in a clearing, underneath a beam of light. A neat little fence circled it, built at the very edge of the shadow, so that it separated the light and dark.

Mara tried to climb to her feet, but her body did not listen. She tried to crawl to the light side of the fence, but fell back down. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

When she awoke, she saw a man standing above her. He was old, with a beard that glowed silver in the shards of light. His eyes squinted, and he seemed to lean at a slight angle. He had a friendly, but concerned, smile.

"My dear!" the man said. He sat on a small log that had fallen next to her. "What has you so distraught?"

Mara looked up at the man for a moment, then closed her eyes. She tried to recall the events that had brought her here. Did I really see a ghost? she thought. It \textbf{must be the woods just playing tricks on me. What would father say if he saw me? How odd they would think of me back home!</i>

She then shook her head. "Nothing. I am just being silly and there is no sense in running about the world as such."

"Nothing, eh?" The man chuckled. "You seem a bit more worked up than one with no worries would. But... very well."

Mara climbed onto the log. She sat and stared into the woods. The man stroked his beard for a moment. "Well then. Perhaps you would be willing to listen to my worries. I could use a friend to share them with."

Mara tried to smile, but then looked away. "I don't have any friends."

"Oh, well that's too bad." The man shook his head. "Then I suppose you'll just miss out on hearing the worries of an old fool."

Mara looked up at the man again. "I wouldn't mind being friends with an old fool."

"Well," the man said. "I wouldn't mind being friends with a silly girl."

Mara smiled. "Well, then. You best start holding up your end of the arrangement."

"Well, if we're going to be friends," the man said. "I think I ought to know your name."

Mara introduced herself as "Mara... Mara Sanghid, daughter of Amedean the Gypsy and Elise -"

The man interrupted her. He laughed. "That's quite a long name."

Mara nodded. "I don't want to be confused with all the other Maras."

"Well, my name is Sylow," he said. "A distinctively shorter name. I do hope you're not terribly disappointed."

"Oh no!" Mara said. "I shouldn't confuse you with all the other Sylows I don't know."

Sylow lifted an eyebrow, then shook his head. "I suppose you do have a good point," he said. "Perhaps I shall be Sylow the Mathematician."

"Oh!" Mara exclaimed. "I was not aware of any scholars in these woods."

Sylow nodded. "Hence my worry. I'm afraid my vision has started to fail me. When I was young I had good sight. But I had no books! Now I have books, but no sight."

"Maybe I could read them," Mara said.

"Oh?"

Mara nodded. "Oh yes. I can read! I love to read. And I wouldn't mind reading aloud in the least."

Sylow smiled. "I think I would like that very much."

Mara stared down the trail. The sun was beginning to set, and deep shadows started to stretch across the clearing. "My worry... the man."

"The man?"

"My father is... some sort of tradesman. Today I met the most disagreeable sort of dealer."

Sylow looked down the trail as well, wondering what Mara found so curious about it. "What sort of dealer?"

"I don't know. He might have been a dealer. He gave my father what looked like an envelope full of money."

Sylow slowly nodded. "I see..."

"Maybe it was... intuition?"

"Sometimes intuition lies," Sylow said. He then thought quietly for a moment. "Sometimes, though, it is the best thing to be heard."

Mara sighed. "So... which is it?"

"I think you'll know," Sylow said.

Mara nodded. "Can I ask you another question?"

"Sure."

"A silly question."

Sylow chuckled. "Any question you wish, dear."

Mara thought carefully for a bit. "Have you seen a tunnel of leaves? With blue light?"

Sylow's smile dropped. "A tunnel?"

Mara nodded. "It's... a bit of the way down the trail."

Sylow glanced at the path leading away from his house. He then looked down at Mara, who was staring at him. "No," he said. "Never seen it."

Mara continued to stare for a moment. She then looked away. The sun was beginning to set. The beam of light shining on Sylow's house had disappeared, and the air grew cold. "I think I should return home," she said. "Father will be very upset."

Sylow nodded. Mara bid him farewell. She promised to return and help him read his books. Sylow, in turn, promised to be her friend. "And friends," he said, "share the wisdom they've earned so that each other can be better people."

Mara smiled and nodded. She then darted away. Sylow called out to her, "Mara!" as she was about to disappear.

Mara turned around. Sylow then said, "Don't stop walking."


5


Mara stood in front of the door to her house. She silently contemplated the ramifications of going inside. She dreamt of her warm bed, a crackling fire, and something to eat. She feared her father's reaction upon seeing her enter so late. She feared her mother's worried cry.

As she pondered, she heard laughter. She took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Her father picked her up and spun her around. "Mara!" he exclaimed. He sat her down on the chair. "My dear. Do you know what has just transpired?"

"What?" she whispered.

Her mother was laughing. Her father was unusually giddy. In fact, Mara could not recall ever seeing him happy at all. He waved a fist-full of coins in her face. "We just bought ourselves a better life."

He then darted into the back room with her mother, laughing and calling to her the riches they would buy.

The front room was suddenly, eerily quiet. Mara stared at the table. The envelope was open. She peeked at the door to the back room once more, then carefully made her way to the table.

The envelope rested flat on the surface, back-side up. Mara gently picked it up by a corner. She read the label. In very hurried script, the envelope read, "For your silence."