Autumn's Fire

Autumn's Fire: Chapter 3

                I woke up in a similar fashion to the day before, but my brief morning terror was routine, so it didn't shake me very badly. This time, though, when I awoke screaming, Mum didn't run into my room because today was the busiest day of the week at the shop. On these days, Mum left before dawn to go to the shop, and it was my job to clean up the house with the maids. I dragged myself out of bed, and headed to the kitchen to grab my morning apple, and sat at the table for once. The table was too large in my opinion as it could seat eight people, and yet over half of the table was filled with miscellaneous shop items. I had argued with Mum many times about getting rid of it in exchange for a smaller one, but she refused, insisting that we needed a large one for the possible guests we might have one day. I rolled my eyes at the thought and sat heavily in one of the grey, wooden chairs that matched the table. I had never been sure if the wood was grey because of old age or if it was simply its natural color, but I always found myself staring at it when my thoughts drifted. I laughed at myself for being so fascinated by such simple things, but nonetheless, I dumbly studied the wood of the table and wondered about where it had come from.

A few minutes into my eating and pondering, a heavy knock shook the door and echoed through the house. I sighed, exasperated at the thought of the chores ahead, as I wondered over to the door. Slowly unlatching the locks, I tried to mentally prepare myself for dealing with people, and pushed open the heavy door. I forced my mouth to curve into a smile, hoping it was convincing enough to make it to my eyes. "Good morning everyone!" I called out in my best cheery voice, though I'm sure I sounded less than enthused. Perhaps I should've tried to imitate Thali the thought crossed my mind, but it was too late for that; maybe next time.

An oddly shaped and sized bunch of women stood huddled together in front of the door. The smallest one was also the fattest, a Gnomish woman, named Folwyn, whose face was so enlarged by her own fat that when I was a child, I was afraid of her because I thought she was constantly on the verge of exploding. But despite her weight, she always wore tight-fitting clothes, and I wasn't sure if it was because she couldn't afford any others or if she preferred to practically suffocate her body. Today she wore a tight brown dress and large blue hat that she had tucked her wild red hair and large mouse ears into. The hat was so tall it made her appear three feet tall, when in reality she was closer to two. I had always disliked her, as she always seemed to try to make everything much harder than it needed to be just to see our reactions; or at least that was my theory.

Once, I remember watching over the book shipments studiously in hopes of finding a book on Gnomes, just to see if her rude and distasteful nature was more reliant upon her people's culture. I waited for months on end, and eventually I watched over every shipment, even if it didn't relate to books, just to try to find something, anything. But no matter how I waited, I never found anything on the Gnomes. Finally, though, Mum grew worried over my obsession over it, and forbade me from continuing my search. I pouted for a few weeks after that, but eventually I did listen to her and gave up. Sometime a few years later, I overheard Mum ask Folwyn about it, but even she did not know of any books on Gnomes. That same day, Mum had consoled me with a pat on the back, and the guess that Gnomes were simply too secretive to want anything written about them.

Next to her was Klongrentra, a Zahhak, or Lizard Folk as they were more commonly known, who towered over the rest. Reaching about 7 feet tall, she had to lean down a bit to see me through the doorway, scrunching her white tunic over her long, blue skirt that, while plain, shaped her form nicely. She, like the rest of her kind, held normal humanoid features. Other than that she had scales instead of hair and had small slits in the place of any ears or a nose, while her skin was speckled with scales like a human might be with freckles. Her eyes matched her skin, which was a pale green color, and though she was intimidating on first glance, she never failed to wear a wide smile, the tips of her fangs brushing against her lower lip. When I had first met her when I was younger, I had welcomed all of her strange features in stride, even the small lizard heads that were a part of her shoulders and occasionally wiggled beneath her tunic. But the one part of her that always seemed to catch me off guard was the way her eyes, lizard-like in nature, blinked with a film that slid horizontally across them. Even now, it still occasionally sent chills up my spine. But I ignored this as she had always been my favorite of the four. She was kind and sweet, and was patient when I would mispronounce her name. Often, I would find myself cleaning next to her, and she would tell me stories of her people while we cleaned.