Juniper Smyth's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Juniper walks the perimeter of her square, boots crunching through fresh powder, counting her steps and picturing where the next row of stalls will go. The unicorn sculpture catches her eye again, and she nods at it like they're in this together. She pulls out a carved wooden sign from her pack, the word "Welcome" burned into the grain in careful letters, and props it against a snowbank where the road opens into the square—because people need to know this place is for them, that gathering here means something, that this is where the market begins. She stops in front of the old hall, its timber beams hung thick with garlands and its windows glowing warm against the grey morning. The snow on its peaked roof looks like frosting, and inside she can already hear voices—merchants arguing prices, boots stomping off cold, someone laughing. This is it, the heart she's been building toward, and her chest tightens with something that feels like relief and terror mixed together.