Marigold Thistledown's Arc

Chapter 1 of 4

Marigold Thistledown knelt in the wet dirt and measured the new path with her hands. She wanted the stones wide enough for a cart and a centaur, side by side. This village was her promise: a home for anyone who had nowhere else to go. A shout pulled her up. At the woven arch of vines and knotted branches, a small group had stopped to rest. A huge orange cat pressed against a hooded figure. Bundles spilled on the ground beside them. Marigold counted faces. A blue troll. An elf child. A green-feathered traveler. The guild had warned her about people like these. Two guild watchers stood near the stone hovel, arms folded, already writing in a small book. One watcher stepped forward. "Send them on, Thistledown. Or we pull the coin tomorrow." Marigold walked to the arch. She lifted the green welcome banner from its peg and pressed it into the hooded traveler's hands. "Come in," she said, loud enough for the watchers to hear. "All of you." The watchers shut their book and left. Marigold watched her funding walk away down the road. Behind her, the giant cat padded through the arch, and the village had new residents she did not yet know how to feed.