The Star

She sighed as the final guests exited the Dancing Frog. The musicians had left two hours ago, and the sun had set three hours before that. Rubbing her eyes and yawning, she picked up the empty tankards and plates and washed up, wondering whether she should hire someone to help her. She wasn't getting any younger, and she'd appreciate the company. Then she remembered last year's turnover, and decided against it. Maybe in a few years, she thought, when I've saved up enough.

Laying down her towel and the last tankard, she picked up a broom and swept the cold stone floor. One of the patrons, probably the strange dwarf with the purple beard, had dropped a peculiar coin on the floor. She stooped to pick it up, a shock of pain shooting through her back. It was of a currency she had never seen before. It was perfectly round, unlike Syoll's eight-sided money, and made of an iron-like metal with a blue tint. She finished sweeping the floor and put it in a small drawer behind the bar, where she kept small trinkets and souvenirs. She then turned her attention towards a wooden chest on the counter and began to count out the day's profit.

A fist full of silver and copper coins and a pebble with a number carved into it. In the end, it came to about five gold pieces’ worth. Less than a miner's income, she realized, shutting the chest again. She sighed and noted down the numbers, added the scrap of paper to her folder, locked the front door, and went to her room.

Like all the other houses in Ironstar, the Dancing Frog had a single, large room above ground, and smaller rooms that were dug into the rock of the mountain on whose slope the city was built. Her bedroom and office were those smaller rooms.

She prepared for bed, surrounded by a cold, hard silence, the kind of silence one only finds under six feet of solid rock. She lay down and fell asleep almost immediately.

*

She rose early that morning, and prepared for another day of monotony. As she groaned, she felt a pang of guilt. This was supposed to be her dream. She had always wanted a mundane life, but had been born into the wrong family for that.

From a very young age her parents had made it clear: Her siblings would be the diplomats, and she would run the capital of Miennach, Ironstar. Overall, they had done a rather good job in raising her, she thought, having sent her to be educated in the lower districts, where goods were produced and manufactured. For a time, she helped an old blacksmith, learning not only about the service the workers provided, but about their lives, too.

Then, without any warning or chance for her to prepare, came the death of her parents, and her name was entered into the election of Ironstar's Triad Representative.

She had hoped that someone else would win, that, for the first time in centuries, her family lost the position of Ironstar's leader. But they didn't, and she instead made sure to use what she had learned to benefit the people, changing the tax system and a handful of other financial laws that existed to exploit the poor. At least, that had always been her goal.

Her daughter, Hevion, had been different. Keen to rule. So, once her daughter reached a reasonable age, she announced her retirement, bought the empty tavern, and let Hevion take over.  

The door of the tavern opened with a rumble of stone on stone, and she looked up from the counter she had been wiping.

"Good morning! How might I help you?" she welcomed the guest. He was an elf, she reckoned, by his slender build and the pointedness of his ears. He was dressed in a brown and green doublet and wore a mustard coloured cape, and brown waves of hair fell to his shoulders. His face was young, but his eyes were old, as was often the case with elves, and his posture expressed pure confidence.

"Good morning!" he announced with a voice deeper and more sonorous than she had expected, "I moved into town just yesterday, and wanted to introduce myself, and possibly advertise my new shop at Wellspring Square."

She arched her eyebrows. Wellspring Square was not far from the Dancing Frog, and was known for shops that sold the most valuable and high quality merchandise in Ironstar. Whoever this was, he must be good at what he did.

The elf continued. "My name is Filkas Smorah, I'm from a small port town in the north of Colliennach. I specialize in supplying, buying, and repairing small objects, magical and mundane, hence the name of my new shop: Trinkets and Tronkets."

She then remembered having seen an ad that announced this new arrival. She smiled. She liked him. "Filkas, was it? Yes, alright. Do you have some time, dear? Have a bite to eat, will you? You're new to Ironstar, aren't you? Don't worry, that's not a bad thing. Have a seat. If you like, I can advise you a little on local matters."

He grinned widely and accepted.

She spent the morning explaining the most important things about running trade in Ironstar. She didn't really think he needed it, but he seemed to listen to her, and she enjoyed the company. She hadn't, after all, seen her daughter in almost four years. It was lonely, but talking to Filkas comforted her.

Then, it was time for him to leave, and she made him promise to return to her, to tell her how business was going. The door shut behind him, and she reached towards her chest, where she wore a necklace with the sixteen-pointed star of Miennach. She clenched it tightly, until the points dug into her hand, and stood there, listening to the dampened sounds of civilisation outside.

She was, again, alone.