"Hyark? Wake up."

  Hyark rolled over in her bed, the hard mattress pressing into her side.

  "Hyark?"

  Hyark's mother walked over to the bed and put her hand on Hyark's shoulder.

  "If you don't get up now, you won't have enough time to eat breakfast," her mother said gently.

  Hyark groaned, "Just a few more minutes."

  Hyark's mother sighed and went back to the kitchen as Hyark fell back asleep to the soft sound of bread being sliced...

  "GET UP!"

  Hyark's eyes shot open and were met by a pair of beady, green irises.

  "Tira, get off of me," Hyark said as she pushed her brother to the side of the bed.

  Tira, Hyark's kid brother, had a habit of waking her up by screaming in her face. Hyark wasn't a fan, but their mother didn't stop Tira, so anytime Hyark decided to go for an extra few minutes of rest, she knew was bound to be woken up not so gently.

  Tira jumped off the side of the upper level of the bunk bed, sticking his landing as gracefully as a cat. He turned back to Hyark and spread his arms wide in a bow.

  Their mother let out an exasperated sigh, "Tira, how many times have I told you to not jump from the top bed? It's too high up."

  Tira grinned back to their mother as he slid into his chair at the table, "Sorry, mother!"

  Hyark smiled at her family. It had been just the three of them for some time now, for almost as long as Tira could remember. Her brother was eleven, turning twelve in just a few days. Hyark couldn't believe just how tall he'd grown; he was already taller than she was, and at twice his age, she wouldn't be getting any taller. Tira, on the other hand, was already more than 4 feet tall, and might eventually reach the height of an average demi-human if he hit another growth spurt.

  Hyark climbed down the ladder from the top bunk and grabbed her clothes before heading into the bathroom to change.

  "Do we have anything besides porridge and bread?" Tira asked.

  Their mother set down a platter of jams and fruit on the table in response and Tira cheered enthusiastically. When Hyark came out of the bathroom in her work clothes, she saw Tira scarfing down as much of the bread slathered with jam as he could.

  "Leave some for your sister," their mother scolded.

  Hyark joined them at the table at the spot her mother had set for her, grabbed a piece of toast, and then inspected the jams. There were 3 different kinds, and they all looked fresh on top of the aromatic fragrance.

  "Where did you get these?" Hyark asked her mother.

  "It was a gift from Ms. Swasi at the shop," her mother replied. "She said her daughter loved the dress I made."

  "Vivi, right?" Hyark clarified.

  Her mother nodded, "Mm. Sweet girl."

  Hyark chose the red jam and spread it on her bread, then took a bite. It was delicious, made from a combination of fruits and spices she wasn't familiar enough with to be able to identify. Hyark ate her piece, then grabbed her bag and headed to the door.

  "Isn't it early for you to leave?" Tira called out from behind her.

  Hyark turned back and smiled, "I'll see you later, okay?"

  "Have a good day," her mother said as Hyark trotted out the door.

  The streets were just as busy as any other morning in the outskirts, run-down stalls and pop-up markets around every corner. Hyark was so used to her route that it was like she didn't even see everything going on around her, content to sit with her own thoughts. She made it to the workshop earlier than usual, but of course, she heard the banging of a hammer inside. She stepped in and saw her master at the forge crafting away at what would soon be a sword.

  Her master was a large orc named Neir, an older gentleman who had given Hyark a job in the smithy after her father had passed. Neir looked up at her and smiled.

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  "Come on," Neir's voice boomed, "no help standing around."

  Hyark spent the day assisting Neir on a full battle set for a fae lancer. Having a business in the outskirts meant that most stores and workshops would cater their wares towards beast folk, but the superbly high quality of goods at the Iron Heart smithy had been renowned for generations, to the point that even high-ranking fae would venture out to procure armaments from the workshop's master, a title that belonged to Neir.

  The work was grueling, the days long and hard, but Hyark felt something warm in her soul when she got to work the forge. She had started off assisting in the front, selling pre-made works by the other smiths, and then cleaned the forge after it closed. Eventually, she began coming early in the morning and staying late to have time to watch the smiths work. Then one day, as Neir was working late into the night and Hyark watched as quietly as a mouse, he asked her to 'give it a go.' He handed her the hammer, and Hyark knew she was in the right place.

  The next day, Neir announced to the rest of the workers that he would be taking Hyark on as an apprentice, shocking everyone, Hyark most of all. Smithing wasn't considered a profession suited for women, and the Spirit Kingdom, as magical as it claimed to be, was a place of tradition, that tradition being blatant and deep-rooted misogyny. Beyond that, Neir had only taken on a single apprentice in his career, his prodigé and son who left for the capital of the Demon Empire over a decade ago to begin a new life with his partner. Ever since then, Neir had refused the idea of taking on another apprentice, and infighting had already begun about who would take over the workshop after the old man. What made Neir's decision to take Hyark under his wing most shocking was the fact that she was a dwarf, and the line of succession, since the workshop began generations ago, saw to it that orcs passed down their uniquely developed techniques to the next generation, keeping the tricks of the trade that made their smith's goods a cut above the rest a secret to all. That was five years ago, and since then, Hyark had done everything she could to earn the respect of the other blacksmiths, pushing her mind and body to the limit. Within the past year, she had seemed to earn their respect.

  Night had fallen by the time Hyark was done for the day. Neir wiped the sweat from his brow and sat on the chair next to his station, then looked up at Hyark.

  "Soon, Hyark go on your own."

  Hyark blinked, "but I still have so much to learn--"

  Neir shook his head, "Neir tired. You know what you need. We talk more next week."

  Hyark walked home in a daze. That was the most Neir had ever said to her at once. Her old orc master was quiet, and Hyark knew his movements and process so well that he didn't need to tell her what to do, beyond one-word adjustments, usually. But their companionable silence was a bond Hyark held most dear, and she thought of her master like her own family. The prospect of going out on her own scared her. And she didn't know if that meant "hey, I'm going to hand the forge over to you now," or "you should go start your own forge." For as much time as she spent with her master and how well she knew him as a craftsman, she didn't know much about how he felt about anything. She had tried, many times, but he would either huff, grunt, or simply chuckle at her pitiful attempts to look into his mind.

  She reached her front door and stepped inside to see her mother cleaning up from supper and Tira getting ready for bed.

  "Hi, sis!" Tira yelled.

  "Hi, Tira. How was school?" Hyark asked.

  "Good!" Tira replied cheerfully. "We were learning more arithmetic today!"

  Hyark smiled at her brother, her heart full at seeing him so happy. Most of her wages were used to send him to a school in the inner city that didn't discriminate against certain non-fae otherkin, including dwarves.

  "Get to bed now, Tira," their mother said.

  "But I'm not tired!" Tira protested.

  "You remember what Dr. Quinoth said, right?" Their mother chirped.

  Tira let out an over-exaggerated sigh, "Fine, I'll go to bed."

  Tira waddled over to the lower bunk and climbed beneath the covers.

  "Goodnight, Tira," Hyark said softly.

  Tira yawned, "Goodnight Hyark, goodnight mom..."

  Tira drifted into sleep within seconds. Hyark helped herself to the bowl of stew her mother left out for her quietly, then washed herself and changed.

  When she returned to the main room, her mother was sitting at the table sewing.

  "Don't push yourself too hard, mother," Hyark chided.

  Her mother waved her off and continued to sew.

  Hyark sat with her mother and watched her sew, telling her about her day in a hushed voice to not wake Tira.

  "It seems like he's doing better now," Hyark said.

  Her mother nodded, "I think so. Dr. Quinoth's new treatment plan is keeping his... under control."

  Hyark nodded, then yawned and stretched her arms, "Goodnight, mother."

  "Goodnight, Hyark," her mother said as Hyark climbed into bed.

  Hyark thought back to her earlier conversation with Neir and her future. The unknown was scary, but change wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Hyark's thoughts drifted to Tira, the strange magic-related ailment that plagued her brother, how long it took to find a doctor able to treat him, how happy he seemed now that he was able to live a somewhat normal life, go to school, make friends... all things Hyark never had. But she was genuinely happy to be able to give her brother the life he deserved...

  A loud thump woke Hyark from her slumber. She turned her head toward the kitchen, where the noise had come from, and saw a large fae illuminated by moonlight shining through the open door. At his feet lay Tira and their mother, both unmoving.

  "Is this the last one?"

  Two figures stood in the kitchen, both in black cloaks, but their wings shone brightly behind them. Fae. The one that had just spoken was shorter and had a feminine voice, and soft pink wings; the other was tall and had wings as white as snow, but his face was obscured, somehow.

  "Yes, and bringing back a Blessed One should curry some extra favor."

  And before Hyark could get out a word, before the fae noticed her, all four of them -- her family and the two cloaked fae -- were swallowed up by a shadow.

  Hyark rolled out of her bed and hit the ground hard, then ran over to where her brother had just been and... nothing. The faint echo of magic, and that was all that was left. Hyark stumbled to the door and looked outside, but there were no signs of forced entry or a hasty exit. Just an empty house and an open door.