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Parents called for their children to settle. Since there weren’t enough chairs, they sat at their parents’ feet.
One of the blacksmith’s daughters—a girl of maybe three or four—rubbed her eyes and reached for Mia.
After a quick look to gain the mother’s reassurance, Mia lifted the girl onto her lap. The small child instantly sank against Mia’s chest, her eyes sliding to catch Grayson’s stare.
He didn’t know what to do, so he gave her a small smile.
She just blinked up at him, a thumb in her mouth.
“Listen well,” Lyda said, her voice a little roughened with age, but still strong enough to fill the room. “I have a special tale to tell tonight.”
Keegan—who had edged through the crowd to stand near Mia—let out a low snort. “She always says that.”
Timothy, who stood beside his younger brother, gently slapped the back of his head. “Quiet,” he muttered.
Keegan rolled his eyes, but he obeyed.
Lyda’s gaze wandered the crowd. “Once,” she began, “long ago, in a time before kings, the rains stopped coming to Ryden. The drought was terrible and lasted years. Fields dried up, rivers vanished, and the animals died. And as Ryden withered, people cursed the fates, believing they had abandoned this land.”
The entire room listened raptly. Grayson himself couldn’t look away from the woman as she continued her story. “In a small village very much like ours, there was a young woman named Elena. She was known for her great compassion and kindness, but her heart was heavy as she saw the suffering of those around her. She decided to seek out the fates and ask them why the rains had stopped falling on Ryden. She did not know how to find them or speak to them, for everyone knows the fates listen and watch as they will, and they cannot be commanded. But Elena was determined to help her village. So, armed with little more than a kind and determined heart, she embarked on a quest to find the fates.”
Mia shifted on the bench beside Grayson, her shoulder brushing against his arm. Her attention was fixed on Lyda as she held the blacksmith’s small daughter on her lap.
“Elena traveled for many weeks,” Lyda said. “She asked every stranger she encountered if they knew where the fates dwelled. No one knew, but Elena did not stop her search.
“One day, she came across a young man who stood in the center of a crossroads. He had sharp eyes and dark hair, and when Elena approached him with a smile, those sharp eyes narrowed.”
Tension pulled the air in the common room taut.
A thin smile played at Lyda’s lips; she knew she had entranced them all. “When Elena drew close to him, she greeted the sharp-eyed man kindly, as she did all strangers.
“In return, he frowned. 'I rarely see travelers these days,’ he told her. ‘Especially those with cause to smile.’
“'There is always cause to smile,’ Elena argued. ‘You just have to know where to look.’ She studied him a short moment and said, ‘You look weary.’
“The young man did not deny this, for he was, indeed, weary.
“'Here,’ Elena said. ‘Share of my bread and water.’
“Her generous offer surprised him. ‘No one has ever shared their food and drink with me,’ he said.
“This saddened Elena. ‘Everyone should receive kindness,’ she said, handing him some of her bread.
“Together, the two strangers sat and began to eat. The young man eyed her curiously, for he had never met anyone like her. ‘What is your name?’ he asked.
“‘Elena,’ she answered. ‘What is yours?’
“‘I have been called many things, but I have never liked any of them.’
“‘I will call you Raven,’ Elena decided, ‘because your hair is as black as a raven's wing.’
“The man liked this name. ‘Where are you bound?’ he asked.
“‘I am on a journey to find the fates,’ she told him.
“This seemed to puzzle Raven more than anything else. ‘Why?’ he asked.
“‘I wish to ask them why the rains have stopped.’
