Mira Fen's Arc

Chapter 6 of 6

The afternoon settled into a steady rhythm. The girl fitted valves with careful hands, and Mira worked beside her, trimming wicks. Then the door creaked. A stranger stepped inside, eyes already drifting to the shelf where the girl's first twelve lanterns sat. The footsteps paused. A throat cleared. Mira set her wick down and turned. The woman was old and small, gray hair pinned high, a soft scarf draped at her shoulders. She lifted one of the shelf lanterns gently — the rust-spotted one with the bent wick and stiff hinges. "This one," she said. "How much?" The girl went still at her bench. Mira felt the quiet shift, the wrong kind creeping in. The old woman set a worn silver coin on the counter, a tree etched faint across its face. Mira looked at the coin. She looked at the girl, whose hands had stopped moving. The lantern was crooked. The seal would leak by winter. But the girl was watching. Mira slid the coin back across the wood. "That one's not for sale," she said. "But she'll make you one. A proper one. Come back in three days." The old woman studied her, then nodded, tucked the coin away, and stepped out. The door clicked shut. The girl was staring at Mira, eyes wide. Mira picked up the rust-spotted lantern and set it back on the shelf, careful, like it mattered. "You have an order now," she said. The girl's hands found her tools again. The quiet eased. It was the right kind.