This is the next installment of Disparate Threads, a Fantasy-Fiction Blog-Serial that updates twice weekly. To read the story from the beginning (and to learn more about the world and the characters) check out Disparate Threads.
Mikael was spotted by the inhabitants of the farmhouse before she had a chance to change out of her fine clothes — though the dress was all but destroyed by layers of mud and filth. The snow had turned from a steady fall to a driving force as she ran through the woods, stinging her face and soaking her cloak. Mitchell Pirlan, and his wife, Gloria, had welcomed Mikael welcomed to their humble home, a small farmhouse warmed primarily by a cooking stove and a single fireplace. They offered her dry clothing, a hearty meal, a place to rest her head, and asked nothing of her in return. Even after a few weeks, the snow stranding them with little hope (and little threat, Mikael found herself thinking) of contact with the outside world, there were no questions. Gloria seemed simply thrilled to have someone to talk at, and Mitchell spent much of his time digging through the snow to check on the animals. When he wasn’t outside he was downstairs in the studio carving little figurines, toys, boxes, and other things of the like.
“Things are unsettled here of late,” Gloria spoke without pausing as she bustled around the room, doing what seemed to be at least a dozen different things at once. Meanwhile, Mikael struggled with her single assigned task of peeling potatoes. It was a new experience for her, something she had watched servants do a few times but never tried herself. Slowly slicing the thin layer of the peel away from the potato, bit by bit, took nearly all her attention and care, and then there was the matter of making sure all those little shavings ended up in a small pile rather than on the floor. In her short time at the farmhouse [Read More]