Inmer safir's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Inmer Safir wiped down the counter for the third time that evening. The shop had emptied an hour ago, but he stayed. He always stayed. Going home meant quiet rooms, and quiet rooms reminded him of what he wanted most — a house full of noise, full of people, full of the small daily arguments that meant a family lived there. He pressed his warm palm flat against the wood and listened to the wind push at the door. The door slammed open. A stranger stumbled in, cloak torn, holding a bundle close to her chest. She crossed the floor in three steps and pushed the bundle into his arms. "You're the only one who can keep her safe," she said. The infant was wrapped in a bright crochet blanket, flowers stitched in every color. Inmer felt the small weight settle against his hot skin. "Why me?" he asked. The stranger only shook her head. She ran back out the door. Inmer followed to the threshold and saw her footprints cut straight through the flower garden beyond the shop, petals crushed into the dirt where she had appeared. Then she was gone. The infant blinked up at him with eyes that caught the light the same strange way his own did. He held the child tighter. He could not take her home. He could not leave her here. He thought of the bright, domed house at the edge of town — empty for years, built for families not from this world. He wrapped the blanket close and started walking. By dawn, the child slept safe inside its painted walls, and Inmer sat awake beside her, his whole life rearranged.