The Search for the Firvare

Chapter 1

~Solora~

Solora was rushing around as usual, her golden hair flying behind her as she went from table to table. It was not even the afternoon yet and already the bums were asking for more wine. What was even more depressing for Solora was that here she was, sweating under her tan dress and apron, only to serve men who were giving her papa's tavern a bad reputation and spreading it all over Dek.

Well, Solora wasn't really her papa's daughter. She figured it out when she realized, at nine years old, that her golden hair and amber eyes did not come from her Papa or her mother, who she only knew through her father's paintings. Papa confirmed that he was not her real father and that he found her as a baby when she asked. However he also claimed that she was his miracle and would continue to love her. Therefore she felt an obligation to repay him, even if it meant putting up with the bums that came in everyday.

"Solora, are you daydreaming again?" Solora blinked. She realized that she got lost in her imagination again as she pictured Papa with his bushy beard expanding into a smile as he picked up her baby self. When she found herself back at the tavern she realized that it was Papa who spoke.

"No Papa, just...about to wipe down the counter," Solora called to Papa who was in the kitchen. Quickly she walked over to the counter, put down the wine jug, and started to wipe the already clean counter with the cloth from her pocket. She could hear her papa chuckle to himself and was relieved she did not get in trouble.

Just then the tavern door creaked opened, causing Solora to turn around and look. Standing in the doorway was a tall figure concealed in a dark blue cloak. The cloak's hood was up, even though it was a hot summer day, making it impossible for Solora to see if she could recognize the person. After all, Dek was a small village and Solora almost knew everyone in it. The figure started to walk in and was about to close the door when Papa's booming voiced echoed across the room.

"You can keep that open, it's a bit stuffy in here." Solora turned to see Papa walking out from the kitchen, gazing out at the new guest. The figure paused for a moment, then slowly opened up the door again. The figure then slid the door stop underneath, walked -- or what Solora thought, floated -- over to the furthest table, and sat down. Solora thought it was strange how the figure moved, so ghost-like. But Papa's loud voice interrupted her thoughts.

"So, today is a very special day Solora," Papa said as he approached her. Solora looked up and smiled.

"Oh, so you remembered this time," Solora teased.

"Come, come. How could I forget my daughter's sixteenth birthday?" Solora was finally turning sixteen years old, which in her mind was the age when a girl becomes a woman and obtains more freedom.

"You have forgotten my birthday last year," Solora remarked.

"Well this is an important year, the time to find that special someone." Solora thought her father was the perfect example of Dek's thoughts on being sixteen: the age when a girl becomes a woman, yes, but is enslaved to a man through marriage. A wave of annoyance washed over Solora.

"We are not going to talk about that on my special day Papa," Solora snapped. She then snatched up the wine jug, reached over the counter to grab a mug, and briskly walked over to the back table. She heard her father sigh as she passed him, and Solora felt a knot of guilt twist in her stomach. Solora hated disappointing her father, but why couldn't he just realize that she wanted to be independent, to soar over the clouds, to experience the world for herself. Alone. As she got closer to the cloaked figure, she shook away her frustrating thoughts and slowed down to make herself appear more professional.