Bed ridden stains and dirt still cover her sheets and pillows. Plank floors are sandy beneath her bare feet, hearing the dirt creaks with each step.

Faylin sets the ore onto her desk, near her bed. Magnifying with a glass, she inspects each speck of mineral. Metal infused rock is glimmering on the other side of the glass. For once, Faylin has a broad smile on her face.

Lyrian sits down and opens a book, feeling guilty but yet tired from the day's events. "Hey Fay, sorry I didn't quite make this the best day of your life."

She stays focused on the ore. Her fingers glide along the sides and bumps. Her nails are scraping against the metal, and she has wiped away a layer of dirt to see underneath. "It's alright Lyrian, I needed these. Don't feel bad."

"I tried planning ahead and making a special day for you. But...yeah. I still think what you did was reckless. We might not even be allowed in there anymore."

Faylin turns to him and smirks, "well maybe in about two months, we can always go back when those bastards forget."

Lyrian shakes his head, "You're impossible. I'm going to bed. Today has been tiring."

Faylin smiles, "Alright, goodnight. You did great today." Lyrian stands to leave the room as she continues inspecting her materials.

The rest of the day, she spends all the time she can checking the quality of the ores and metals. Late into the night, she finally decides to put it away, and calls it a night. She climbs into her dusty bed and falls asleep, leaving the smithy undisturbed.

***

A pounding knock on wood comes from the door to the front smithy. Faylin wakes up, and is groggy from a short night of rest.

She opens the door and a human in fine noble wear stands high. "Faylin."

Faylin squints her eyes, "Hagren. What brings you here?" She looks up and sees that behind Hagren are two guards.

Hagren takes a step forward, his long blonde hair, grey eyes and soft skin shining from the sunlight behind. "I need to speak with you." He points inside the smithy.

"Sure." Faylin moves aside and lets him in.

Once in, Hagren walks over to Faylin's desk covered in papers and blueprints for contraptions and tools. "This place is always dirty. I do not understand why you do not clean this place." He frowns and looks back to her. "Anyway. I come for your tax collection from the Avesian Empire." His arms cross in anger, "also I had a complaint last night from the king of Bogh Buldar."

"The Avesian Empire?" Faylin awakens, "The king has done nothing for us. Why must we give such money?"

"Because. We are all apart of the kingdom and need to help protect and fund the people who guard our borders."

"But the money never reaches those men. It's greed, and corruption."

"It is to save money for possible future wars, and crisis. Anyway, stop avoiding. And your taxes go up 20% as a punishment for breaking our allies' laws in Bogh Buldar."

"That's outrageous! Hagren please, I cannot afford this. Already half of what I make is spent in taxes," Faylin whines. She balls her hands into fists as her eyebrows furrow. Veins begin to pop.

Hagren huffs, "look it doesn't matter, pay up." His voice grows angry as he holds his hand out. The two guards at the door are holding their spears tight at attention.

Faylin walks over to a small vault built into the brick of the building. She hesitantly cracks the code of the vault, clicks the lock open, and takes out a bag. With frustration, she counts the coins, throwing them on the shop counter, one by one. Change jiggles in the pouch, as she holds it out to Hagren.

He takes the money, opens it to inspect the coins and then shoves them in his pocket.

"Looks like it's all here." Hagren nods, then he exits without saying a word.

The two guards follow suit behind. Faylin slams the door shut and screams while holding her head, "fuck!"

Later in the afternoon, Faylin sits alone in her shop, hunched over, exhausted, and stressed. She stares blankly at the paperwork of a commission order, barely starting the project. The bell hanging over her door rings as Gimrik barges in. "Heyo, how's Bibby? I came with a couple of new books for her to read."

Faylin looks up at him, still annoyed from the taxation. "I'll take them up to her." She pauses, "actually I don't feel very well Gim. Do you mind taking them up to her?"

Gim walks over and places his hand on Faylin's forehead. "Aye lass, what's wrong? Yer burning up."

"I think it's just from lack of sleep and food. It's been very hard lately to cope. Nobles and kings taxing me constantly, I don't have time for commissions anymore."

Gim frowns, "that ain't good. Well come on, I'll take ye up to rest. Ye know ye can come stay wit me whenever ya want if things go south with the shop."

"I'll be alright, just a bit under the weather is all."

"Alright then." Gimrik walks through the shop and passes Faylin with books in his arm. He stops at the doorway and looks back at Faylin. "By the way, someone's out to kill business owners."

Faylin looks up from her paperwork, "what do you mean?"

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"There was a murder in the Avesian Empire last night. Someone killed a nobleman, and no one knows who."

"Really? Good then. I hope they suffer."

"Now yer talking nonsense." Gimrik then turns and heads to Bibby's room with books in hand. "Don't come crying to me when your next."

Faylin is left alone to finish up the commission paper. She sketches and writes on parchment. Paper covers her desk and creates piles of mess. Faylin focuses solely on finishing the projects assigned to her for the rest of the day.

Lyrian comes in the shop with a cheerful smile, "Fay, it's time to get out and have fun."

"I don't have the money for that," Faylin mumbles looking at her work.

"Yeah right, what about all that platinum, gold, osmium and palladium we stole the other day? You sold some didn't you?" he leans against the counter watching her.

"I sold the copper and iron as a couple of swords and garden tools," she replies looking down at a commission paper. "And I'm not going out. I'm trying to figure this thing out. I have a deadline soon."

"Come on Fay. Let's go to the tavern. You need a night of fun," he says pulling up a backwards chair to sit on.

"I don't want to."

"Come on, for me?"

Faylin looks up and meets his gaze with a small glare, "fine. For you, but not because I want to." She stands up and gets herself ready, dipping her hands in bowl of water before leaving.

They walk together through town. Cobblestone streets are wet with the early autumn rain. Puddles splashing as they walk by the smell of woodsmoke and baked bread that fills the air as they pass a bakery.

Depression is all around the grey skies for Faylin. Buildings are dull and lifeless with only candles that seep through windows. The people all seem to have a depressed look in their eyes which doesn't help Faylin. But not all are sad as Lyrian notices.

The sound of the busy street fills their ears. Children play in water. Adults gossip upon each other. Merchants shout their wares in the marketplace. The tavern door creaks open.

They enter the tavern. Its small with wooden tables, chairs and benches lining its walls. Lanterns are hung on each side of each table giving off light and warmth.

Inside it's cozy, and lively. The tavern is bustling with customers, bards, and laughter.

Faylin and Lyrian find a seat at a table.

As they sit down, a waiter comes over and asks for their orders. Faylin orders herself a mug of mead, and Lyrian orders himself a stone fruit tea. The waiter walks off to get their drinks. Faylin is seeing many surface dwarves and humans having fun, drinking mead and eating hearty food. In a dark corner, the table next to them, she spots two cloaked figures drinking themselves away in silence. The waiter returns with their drinks, "Here you are, enjoy."

"Thanks." Lyrian smiles. He and Faylin sip their drinks.

"So, what's new at your shop?" Lyrian asks, "You seem so busy all the time. Is the King and nobles pushing you down more?"

"Yes, actually." Faylin lowers her head, her cheeks red from the alcohol. "I can barely afford to pay for mom." Faylin starts tearing up, "she can't even walk or take care of herself. She can't move her back, it's like she has no back muscles. Things are just getting harder and harder."

"Fay, hey I'm sure it will all be okay." He comforts her, placing his hands on hers, and rubs with a gentle thumb. "It's not going to be easy, but it will get better. Just remember, you're strong and talented, and I'm here for you if you ever need me."

Faylin wipes her tear filled eyes with a sniff, "thank you Lyrian."

"Maybe a fortune would help?" A hooded figure from the table next to them looks back at them. She walks up and throws back her hood, revealing long light grey hair and a young dirty face. The lady looks like she hasn't washed or slept in days.

"If only I did have a fortune yeah," Faylin chuckles over her crackling cries.

"Not that kind of fortune," she giggles. "I'm Luminitsa, a fortune teller." She extends out a dainty white hand.

Faylin hesitates for a moment, looking into the woman's cute blue eyes, then shakes her grimy, sweaty hand, "um, Faylin."

Hints of awkwardness falls between them as Faylin can feel the old dirt on her hand. But Luminitsa doesn't seem to care how she looks or if she smells like a used wet rag.

Luminitisa grabs Lyrian's hand with a jolt. Lyrian jumps as he feels a cold grip wrap around his wrist, but then his vision begins to change colors. Lights flash through his mind.

"What is your future?" the woman questions as Lyrian feels his entire world fade into black. His breathing slows, his heart thuds heavy in his chest, then suddenly he can see. He is watching a black castle in the distance, surrounded by mountains and a forest. Everything looks dead around, but in the throne room within the castle, a man with golden eyes stares back.

"You will become the most powerful mage alive," the man's lips curl up into a smile, his teeth jagged and sharp. "But you are weak now," the man speaks out, but then is cut off.

The woman snaps her fingers, waking Lyrian up. He breathes deeply, his chest rising high and then exhaling, after he has blinked a few times.

"You will eventually come to a tough decision between between a job and your friends. You're not good at making decisions, are you? Well, you will in due time."

Luminitsa sits down with Faylin, turning her attention away from Lyrian. Her long legs fold neatly under the table as she places her hands in front of her, "so, Faylin."

"Yes ma'am," Faylin answers politely as the woman stares into her soul with her bright glowing eyes. Faylin wonders why the tavern didn't notice or ask her to snuff out her own magic to keep it dim. "Let's see you."

"My what?"

Luminitsa smiles, "your soul, future, past."

"My past...isn't very nice."

"I can tell by just looking at you, Faylin." Luminitisa looks down at Faylin's arms, "you've endured pain and sorrow. Haven't you?"

Faylin folds her arms across her chest, "please. Not here, not now."

Luminitsa takes Faylin's hand and she starts to see visions of her mother being trampled on by horses, stomped on by hooves. She sees the angry faces of nobles and kings, their fists slamming onto tables. "Enough," Faylin tears her hand from Luminitsa's grip. Water is running down Faylin's cheeks. She wipes the wet streaks away quickly and then storms off.

Lyrian chases after her calling, "Fay, Fay wait!" Lyrian grabs her arm and stops her as Luminitsa has been silently standing behind him. "It's alright Faylin, I'm here. I'm here," Lyrian says.

Faylin turns and hugs him burying her face into his shoulder, "thank you." Faylin turns her head to Luminitsa, "I'm sorry, thank you for reading us, but I must go. My heart is torn with emotions I don't wish to open right now."

"I-I was only trying to help," Luminitsa explains, looking with her head held low.

"Is my sister bothering you?" the other hooded figure says with a smile and cool expression while smoking a pipe. "Sorry, she's been practicing a lot lately."

Faylin can only catch a glimpse but she does seem to be recognizing him, "Serrill? Is that you?"

He uncovers his hood as a few strands of jet black hair fall over his forehead. Serrill's nose wrinkles when he smiles at Faylin, his light blue eyes piercing her gaze.

"Yes, it is I."

"What are you doing here?" Faylin asks crossing her arms, hiding her shock.

"Don't worry, mages like I don't hold a grudge. I'm just passing through this town," Serrill laughs at Faylin's reaction. "Lighten up Fay, it's all good. Anyway, me and sis got to get going. Enjoy the fortune."

Luminitsa waves innocently and Faylin says farewell.

Lyrian looks to Faylin, "Who were they? Seemed like you recognized the guy."

"I did. He used to be an assistant blacksmith with me. But then I fired him because he didn't listen and instead dealt with shady underground deals."

Lyrian nods his head and looks at the crowded tavern surrounding them. He then looks towards the door. "Do you wanna head out? I think you've had enough social time today," he smiles awkwardly with his pearly white teeth.

"Yes please, let's head home," she says, feeling pleased to be sheltered alone again.

Lyrian and Faylin walk out of the tavern leaving the cold night air to greet their faces.

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Luminitsa

image [https://files.fm/thumb_show.php?i=jrk4btpun8]