Prologue

The young woman sewed alone by the fire. The night was cold, and the small hut where she worked swayed slightly as the wind blew, but her father had built the simple structure to be sturdy, and the drafts that eased in were no match for the warmth around the hearth. She wiped her eyes as she thought of her father. Sickness had taken both her parents the previous winter just before she turned sixteen, and being an only child left her lonely, especially on cold nights when conversation and laughter would have warmed her as much as the fire.  

A heavy sigh escaped the woman’s lips as she returned to her sewing and listened to the sound of the air whistling by. Her homeland was a quiet place. Once, a king ruled, and there were castles and noble lords and ladies, but a curse had befallen the land, and the king left on a journey to find a way to remove it.  The crops dwindled but didn’t die. Livestock survived but grew lean. No one in the land seemed to be able to grow or keep more food than they could use for themselves. Trading with outside kingdoms stopped, and anyone who wanted to become rich or simply live a comfortable life moved from their homes. When the king left, others tried to rule but departed after realizing they could not obtain taxes from the few, poor remaining dwellers, invading armies starved when they came with plans of conquest, and it was only a couple of years before everyone left them alone. Fewer and fewer people lived in the cursed kingdom, and soon, it would be forgotten with just a few folks like herself able to grow enough food to survive.

She sighed again, her thoughts miserable tonight, when combined with the wind and the cold. Perhaps she should leave, too; move to a nearby village in the next kingdom over, perhaps marry a good man and start a family. She stared into the fire, pondering these thoughts, when she heard a sound she didn’t recognize at first: knocking on her door. The sound was weak but urgent, and she rushed to the door and opened it.
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A stranger stood in her doorway. The man was old and withered and looked as if he might fall to the floor at any moment. She helped him inside and laid him on her bed near the fire. He mumbled incoherently and shivered as she took off his wet clothes and wrapped him in blankets to warm him. She immediately recognized the signs of fever and ladled the small remains of stew she’d had for dinner into a bowl. Gently, she held the man’s head up and helped him eat. He took no more than four bites of the stew before closing his eyes and falling into a deep slumber. She put the bowl near the hearth, placed three logs in the embers, then made herself comfortable on the floor in front of the fireplace. After some time, the woman closed her eyes and slept, her last thoughts swirling about the stranger asleep a few feet away.  

All text and black and white artwork Copyright Jennifer and Daniel Frazier 2019.
​Color artwork Copyright Catalina Murcia Alejo 2020 and licensed to Jennifer and Daniel Frazier.