There isn’t much time, I have to hurry, I say to myself as I ride through the land of peaceful white.

All the villages, the people and even animals must be sleeping, since it is the middle of the night.

I’m riding on a horse side straddle, full gallop somehow, despite that I don’t feel confident in my riding skills.

Is it dangerous? Is it reasonable? I ask myself these questions not knowing really what I’m doing.

I could get lost, my horse could trip, a lot of accidents can end up leaving me in the middle of nowhere, without any help in the freezing cold.

No one would be able to save me and I would surely die. Thus, why am I risking my life?

Because there is a reason why I’m taking this huge gamble, there is a profound goal, and that objective is to save mother.

I learned that there is a crowd of people which is heading towards my home, with touches and ill intentions.

If I don’t save her, if I don’t stop them, I will lose her forever and that’s not what I will ever allow.

That’s why I borrowed the horse from Harrivetta’s stable without asking,

and rode all the way from the mansion to the village as fast as I could.

The echo I passed was the sound of the galloping hooves hitting the rocks on the ground.

There was not one, not a single person I have met on my way, only the silence of the night.

No one knew where I was or what I was doing, but this secrecy suited me quite well, I guess.

I was told by my friend that I often think to myself, and that’s what I have been doing all this time.

“This is!” I shout as something appears to my vision.

Finally, after the long journey I have arrived at the cross section that leads to my house.

There is my mother, I tell myself, as I step off the horse into the deep snow.

My feathery dress is dark, and my long fur lined boots protect me from the cold.

I start running, through the private road leading to my home, and rush towards my mother.

There is a cloud coming out of the chimney, hinting that someone is inside, I notice.

As I make it to the door, and go inside, my eyes start to water reflecting the sight I witness.

It is mother, who sleeps soundly on the armchair, as the wood in the fireplace sizzles in the kitchen.

She is safe, I discover, and almost faint from that shock, despite that it is also a relief for me as well.

It is that I expected that my mother would have been in much worse state that surprised me the most.

“Mother I have returned!” I tell her as I run towards her and embrace her.

“Darling, is that you?” She responds half-awake, hugging me back.

“I was truly worried!” I say as I look upon her gentle face.

“Why is that you were so worried darling?” She asks in a soft voice.

“Because I couldn’t find you at the party and I heard men are coming.” I explain, trying to calm myself down.

“Is it so? Coming at this time is despicable, truly. If I could I would tell them to get an appointment.” The mother explains.

“So will you run away with me? There is still time and I have a horse.” I tell her.

“Escape to where? Darling, you shan’t be this confusing to your mother.” My mother lectures me.

“Yes mother, I apologise, but what will you do when then come?” I ask her.

“I will tell them the truth and they will be on their way, as always.” My mother tells me.

However, that is not what I have learned, that the men aren’t coming here just to talk.

They have ill intentions that will hurt mother, that is why she has to go now.

“No mother, you must understand.” I plead to her.

“Perhaps I already do darling, but you simply haven’t noticed.” She responds.

“Your desire to reason with them is absurd, please do understand at least.” I state.

“Quite so darling, reasoning with ruffians would be absurd.” She states.

“What do you aspire to do then?” I ask.

“I will tell them the truth, just like I did previously to you darling.” She tells me. ”After all, that is what I suppose they want from me and what will please their minds.”

However, is that plan truly reasonable? Is staying and talking with them would do good for my mother?

The truth about the coal and the railroad plan would not only damage her reputation,

but can potentially destroy our entire family with no ability to recover.

Not even my father, who I barely know of, would be able to do anything.

Perhaps he can inherit the land, but the villages wouldn’t want to work for him anymore, I think.

What would happen with me is not important right now, I have to convince my mother.

“So you knew that the coal was poor quality? You knew that the provider mixed different grades of refinement together to save on sales?” I ask her.

“It is so my darling, that is why I informed everyone.” My mother explains calmly. “I made a notice in the paper explaining the various qualities of coals. I did warm them, even told the pastor, but if they didn’t listen, what was I to do?”

If what my mother is saying is true, that is not her fault that the villagers didn’t understand.

Therefore, any issues about the quality of coal or the type of the fireplace the clients were using is not our responsibly,

not the provider's fault either, but it’s theirs. My mother tried to help them, tried to warn them but her plea was just not enough.

What else is she supposed to do in this situation? It is obvious who should take the blame.

“Moreover, the issue of education lies within the state, doesn’t it mother?” I state.

“That is true darling, and I wonder where all the finances go for school.” My mother giggles. “At times it appears as if the children of those people are smarter than their parents.”

“Yet, when it comes to the politics, I must ask you of the railway.” I change the subject. “Is it true that you intended to waiver from the plan to place it behind the church, away from the village, in order to support the original delineation that was already set in stone?”

“If you must ask, then which plan do you think would be the favourite of the villagers?” My mother states. “There is only progress they will enjoy after all is set to place. Besides, I had to say words in order to convince others to join into the discussion. Only then were they interested in supporting the investment, making it go full power into fruition now.”

It is that the progress of the villages, the future prosperity residents might not yet be aware of,

is more important than what they can see and experience right now within their low class households.

Coal is just the first step, the next one are shops, factories and eventually the rest of the infrastructure.

It is truly an gigantic investment that many people need to support in order for it to be successful.

Thus, perhaps even if there are questions to my mother’s negotiation strategies, it is all well in the end.

“Then what of my recital? Haven’t you promised that you would listen?” I ask.

“I was extremely busy, and since there was no time to leisure, I must apologise darling.” My mother tells me. “I was at the party, do not worry.”

“I haven’t seen you. Or, as a matter of fact, no one did.” I add.

“Then darling, does that mean I wasn’t there?” My mother slimes.

“I suppose I can’t say.” I lower my head. “I’m sorry for my doubt mother.”

It is true that if even no one saw her, that if she wasn’t able to make to the first dance or my performance,

it doesn’t rule out the possibility that she was actually there, somewhere in one of the private rooms.

My mother prefers to stay in such places. I can attest to that with confidence since I’m her only daughter.

She is always quite busy around the house and needs silence, so neither me or Emmi bothers her.

Actually, there is also the person I met during the party that walked to talk of my mother.

It was Sayabri, the girl near my age who I befriended, the supposed daughter of my mother’s previous husband.

“Also mother, I want to mention something about the person I have met at the party.” I tell her. “Her name was Sayabri Masahrena and we fast became friends. She wanted to talk with you.”

“About the rumours I presume?” My mother giggles. “Truly darling, if you keep company with the wrong crowd, you might become spoiled and improper.”

“It’s not that she was serious about them mother.” I sigh. “It’s that she wanted to know the truth, about her mother and about me.”

“You already know the truth, don’t you darling?” My mother explains. “You are my daughter and she is potentially a result of adultery. Need I say more?”

“No mother, it is enough.” I say as we embrace one another.

The moment passes as I sit myself on her lap, while she rests on the armchair near the fireplace.

In this moment of silence, the thoughts that have been in my mind for so long surface.

Maybe even if this warmth is fake, it doesn’t matter. Maybe if my mother lies a little, it doesn’t matter.

Whenever she is my true mother, it doesn’t matter. Whenever she tells me the truth or not, it doesn’t matter.

The only one important thing is that she is truly my mother, the only one I have.

I don’t want to lose her, not now. My wish is to forever hold onto her.

Suddenly, there is a knock on the door and my attention is directed over there.

I notice someone is trying to get in, so I decide to return to the ground and walk to the door.

“Mother I will get the door.” I tell her.

“It is fine darling.” She nods at me.

I open the door and see a woman dressed in maid clothes that gaze directly at me.

Before I am able to say a word, I am pulled outside, and dragged some distance from the house.

The wind shuts the door and we stop, looking at each other. Only then I see her face.

“Emmi, why did you want me to come here? You wanted to talk, right?” I ask her, confused.

“It is perhaps so young madam, I wanted to converse with you here.” She responds.

“What of your sudden pleading? Could you be kind to explain?” I query.

“Have you noticed any men around?” She asks me whispering.

“I have not, I assure.” I respond.

“Then we mustn’t worry mother.” Emmi states.

“But is it true that they are on their way?” I inquiry.

“It is so young madam, but I know what to do.” Emmi tells her.

Remembering Emmi, after all the maids I have met in the mansion, comes quite easy for me.

She was and still is a part of my family, and hence I can understand her emotions a bit better.

Being a workaholic, she always wants to be perfect in her chores, while caring about others.

However, at this moment, she was acting a bit different. It was similar to the time we went to the forest,

where we went out foraging for small eatables. That time we found something strange.

“She plans to tell them the truth, isn’t that right young madam?” Emmi assures.

“That is correct, my mother stated she will talk with them.” I relate.

“Thus, as a maid for my madam, I will too state the truth.” Emmi states.

“Then I am thankful for your support Emmi.” I bow to her.

“I will tell the truth to you, not to them.” Emmi tells me. “The truth about your mother, and then something more.”

The story that Emmi tells me has made her go back into the past. It was the time when she worked as a maid in the mansion.

She was asked to do much less tasks that she is doing right now, as a servant of our family,

but there was one particular request that she received. She was asked to take care of a baby, to hide it from everyone.

The whereabouts of said child were shady, since no one really knew its true father or mother.

It was only rumoured that she was a product of adultery between a noble and a servant.

That is why dealing with it had been done in the shadows, without witnesses, and hence why the task was given to Emmi.

She has decided that the best way to hide it was to carry it all the way into the farmland, where her family was.

There she would entrust the baby to her mother, and give her the money she was entrusted by her lord.

That way no one from the mansion would ever learn about the child, she hoped.

And even in the instance they would, Emmi could have always lie that she was the mother.

Unfortunately, the baby would have brought misfortune upon the Emmi’s family house.

A fire broke out, and there was barely anything left from the wooden foundation.

Emmi’s parents, who were there at the time of the accident, were found dead in the rubble.

Yet, miraculously the baby survived, and the priest called this a miracle.

That’s because at the time there was a spirit medium walking past the house.

She noticed the fire, quickly rushed inside the burning structure and saved the child.

That’s all she was able to do however, because of the state that the house was in.

And so, what she told the priest was that a fire spirit visited the household and brought upon the misfortune.

That’s what her mind told her, that’s how she felt inside.

But that wasn’t the entire truth. There was a human element involved in all of this.

The money Emmi gave their parents was spent on the cause of the fire, namely the coal.

The person who sold them the lumps of coal was no other than Beamortha herself.

She was directly responsible for everything that happened during that day.

Yet, she also denied any connection, saying that it was only an accident, not the involvement of a spirit.

That is because the general public was not satisfied hearing the explanation from the church.

They desired an opinion from a knowledgeable person, like from a well versed lady, rather than someone with authority that represented the church.

And that is when Beamortha explained how everything happened, how the old furnace was at fault.

Everyone was satisfied with her word and gave her trust, despite that she lied, never mentioning her involvement and the coal she supplied.

That’s what Emmi told me, and I am curious to know how she learned about all this.

“Tell me Emmi, when did you hear all that from?” I ask her.

“It is fine to say it was madam.” The maid bows. “But she hasn't told me directly.”

“Then what you say is true? The baby is still alive?” I query.

“Yes, she is quite indeed alive and healthy.” She replies.

“I would require some confirmation if I were to believe in your story Emmi.” I add.

“Then why don’t you ask her who is the baby?” Emmi smiles.

All this time Emmi was gazing at me, and I could see my reflection in her lemon eyes.

Does that mean the baby was me? Then my mother performed, or was forced to perform, adultery?

Is that what happened? But why would she go as far as to burn the house down?

Was she worried others might notice that her daughter was hidden from the world?

Was it that she couldn’t allow a fake family to take custody of her own baby?

“What of the birth certificates? Have you archived them?” I ask her.

“I am quite sure she has them inside her desk.” Emmi tells me.

“Then what you say is true? I was the baby you speak of?” I inquiry.

“It is truly so, I’m glad you have noticed it finally.” Emmi mentions.

“Alas, would you say that revealing to me that information changed anything? I’m still her daughter and that is all I need to know.” I reply.

“There is another part to the story.” Emmi explains. “After you were rescued, I retrieved you from Minorta’s mother’s care and started wondering what to do. I could not just simply go back to the mansion with a small child.”

“Therefore, you have decided to abandon your job as maid and decided to stay in the hut, the one we found in the forest? In order to raise the child?” I question.

“That is true, I felt like the worst mother, not being able to provide for a child.” Emmi speaks. “Further, my resignation only pleased my lord since he longer would have to deal with the problematic baby of unknown origin. Only then have I started worrying.”

“Yet, if I was that baby, that means something happened next, right?” I ask.

“That is indeed so. Days later I was discovered by Beamortha, who just happened to pass by, looking for a suitable place to build her house.” Emmi continues. “I told her my story, despite not knowing yet she was the one that sold the coal to my family. What she offered me was a job as a maid, but there was one condition. I had to hand over the custody of the baby to her.”

“Then that is how I would become hers again, isn’t it?” I figure.

“If you so believe then yes, that’s the story of your reunion. However, because I said this much, I must forbid you from mentioning anything to her.” The maid pleads to me.

“I wouldn’t think of doing that.” I nod. “As we are now is fine.”

“Then if you excuse me, I have to tend to madam.” The maid bows.

If everything about her story is true, would that mean she was able to forgive my mother?

Perhaps she believes that Beamortha had no ill intentions or didn’t know of the danger?

“One more thing young madam.” The maid stops in the middle of the road.

“What is it Emmi?” I tilt my head.

“The time we spend together, in the house and before I met your mother.” Emmi speaks. “I treated you as my own daughter. That is why I always desired for you to grow into a splendid young lady.”

“Is that so? I am forever thankful.” I bow to her.

“And do you remember the present I gave you? The book on the fire spirits?” Emmi asks me. “It is that book I found most interesting after the accident. Personally, I believe it was the fire spirit, just like the spirit medium says.”

“You do think so? I recall that one time you asked me about spirits.” I say. “But I never learned if you believe in them yourself.”

“To speak the truth, there is a passage in the book.” Emmi recites. “It said that incidents happen often involving humans and spirits, and that fire spirits are guardians of house fire. What attracted my interest however was the passage about a fire spirit called Luciflarerion.”

And as the maid spoke of him, I also began to remember the time as I was reading about Luciflarerion.

In the book Emmi gave me, he is described as the bringer of light and revealer of truth.

He is the one protecting the weak, the unjustly trailed, giving them the strength to rebel against oppression.

He was also cast down by the Goddess into the spirit realm, as he started to question her rule over heaven.

On Earth, he is a powerful spirit that had many sightings from various spirit mediums around the world.

Whenever they sense him, they would point out the feeling of being lit on fire, the desire to fight for truth and anger would engulf them.

Finally, there is a prophecy involving him. When the world will be reborn for the final time,

the Goddess will pull all the faithful, spirits and humans, from the soil and bring them to her side.

Those that will stay behind would suffer, as Luciflarerion would scorch the ground with everlasting flames in anger.

What would follow would be his ultimate defeat by the Goddess, and the battle on Earth will turn the world into hell itself.

“It was quite the description I must say.” I say as I scratch my head.

“Well do please be careful young madam.” The maid bows and leaves me.

And as she slowly disappears from my vision, the men that I was told about earlier enter my sight.

It would be only a matter of minutes before they reach my house and my mother.

Yet, despite that she told me it’s going to be okay, that she will simply talk with them,

I can’t see her anywhere. Thus, perhaps she is still in the house, I ponder, as I take a look.

I look through the window to discover that she is not sitting on the armchair in the kitchen.

Worried, I quickly entered the house and searched, but I couldn't find her. It’s the same as during the party,

she simply vanished. There is only one logical reason, she must have escaped, I tell myself.

Perhaps she was convicted by my words, and left, just as I asked? I would be glad for that.

However, now I find myself in a situation that I would consider as terribly dire.

The crowd of people won’t be pleased that they would see me, instead of my mother.

Further, if I run now, they will notice and I would be chased down quite easily.

So I can’t escape, no matter what I do. But yet, there is one small chance if I believe in myself.

I open the door and walk outside. The mob of people carrying touches and tools of war spots me.

I approach them calming, carrying a case with my violin inside of it, and gaze over them.

They stopped, surprised that I was able to meet them in the middle of the road, that I was able to face them.

And for a moment, we both are silent, as each of them looks at the young maiden standing before them.

“Are you her child?” A stranger asks.

“Have you seen her child?” A mother asks.

“Where is Beamortha? Bring her to us.” Someone demands.

“That is not possible, she isn’t home.” I answer.

“Then what of it? Suppose we believe you?” A man says.

“Come down, she might be able to help us find her.” A person suggests.

“Say little lady, will you be this kind and tell us?” A woman asks.

“It is as I said, she isn’t here.” I state. “And further, I won’t be able to help you find her.”

“Why is that child?” A man asks.

“Because you will harm her. I know what to expect, thus I will stand.” I tell them.

“Don’t be so hastily in judgement, we only want to talk.” Someone replies.

“A talk you will have!” I exclaim. “I will stand in her place and state of the truth.”

That is what I have decided to do, to stand in for my mother, even if she isn’t really here.

That is what my plan was for the open party was as well, because I couldn’t find her.

I always protected mother, I always fought for her, because she was the one that give me my life,

my precious existence as the young red haired maiden called Pyrecilla. A life that I will hold onto to.

“Is it true your mother knew about coal?” Someone asks.

“Yes, and it appears you haven’t read the label.” I point to them. “The various types of coals and which furnaces are suitable for burning them were all related to you. Hence, your ignorance doesn’t compensate for your responsibility for the damages. And besides, she wasn’t the supplier, my mother was only a person who wanted to improve your living conditions.”

“Those are lies! No information was provided.” Someone shouts.

“That is not true, I believe that…” Another tries to say.

“It is as he says, the coal was a fraud!” A man states.

“What of the railway?” A woman asks.

“As you know, the railway will be expanded in the near future. But it won’t reach this village.” I explain. ”Instead it will go through the path away from your farmlands, must you worry.“

“What I heard is that the railroad intents something else.” An old man says. “They are planning to go straight through the field over there. I saw some men doing groundwork there already.”

“That is to say, my mother does not have a decisive voice in the matter. She only stated your interests to the railway industry, but it is up to them what they will do.” You voice.

“That is not true, since the land belongs to her.” The old man mentions. “She has the ability to deny the railway if she so pleases.”

“Then what of the railway? Would it not bring prosperity to the village?” I ask them. “All the goods that came from the station will make it into a city. You will have work and pay you have never imagined before!”

“I don’t mind now.” Someone says.

“It’s not terrible, but I don’t think it can be better.” A woman says.

“Right! The capitalists are the ones that convicted the millman!” A person shouts.

“Isn’t he earning more now?” A voice asks.

“The bread became uneatable.” A wife complains.

The crowd didn’t appear to listen to my arguments, but I wasn’t defeated just yet.

I still had one asset I could use in order to convince them to let my mother go.

“Don’t you think calling her a capitalist is a little much? All she did was to help improve the village.” I state.

“Depends on what you mean by improvement.” Someone points out.

“I understand that you don’t want someone telling you what to do, that you people prefer the lifestyle on the soil.” I start to explain. “It is the bond with nature, the giving and taking every season, which grant you people meaning. I wouldn’t say my mother wants to take that away.”

“Perhaps it is true, but what of it?” A man asks.

“The bakery, the church and the coal industry. Aren’t they all your enemies, the ones that force their ideals upon you?” I argue. “As the class with least wealth, to whom you turn to ask for help? My mother is the only one here that is able to turn down those ventures and keep peace. She is your protector.”

“If you say so then perhaps…” A man thinks.

“It is indeed that she is the only person that represents our voice. ”A stranger ponders.

And just as I was having a good turnaround, there was one person that had to mention something.

“Didn’t she perform adultery?” Someone whispers.

“I heard she sold coal that burned down a house.” Another murmurs.

“And that she overworks her maid.” A woman mutters.

I knew that at some point I would have to face the rumours. It was the same at the party.

At the time of my performance during the evening, I was making a quite good impression on everyone.

However, afterwards I started getting questioned about my mother, from the people I previously met.

It was because of their admiration for my ability that they gave me their respect and started questioning the gossip,

which had to be corrected with the truth. Every single rumour, one by one, that kept on coming, had me wish I wouldn’t become this popular.

Yet, when Harrivetta said it was time for us to go, I was saved and finally, after a long tiring evening, I could feel relief.

But that only lasted for a brief moment, as after she got back home, she started to question the actions I took that I took in order to protect mother’s reputation.

It was not our very first time we had an argument, which usually ends up with us both stating our own opinion’s.

At times like that I try to think of her as a friend, and I still do, but our relationship started to become a little complicated after that night.

I wanted her to know that I am there for her, that if she needs a little sister, she can use me.

Yet, she denied the need, instead stating that I was the one in the wrong, that people can’t keep escaping to their desires.

That is however something I can’t personally accept.

I wonder now, are those peasant before me think the same, that they have an imagination of a farmland,

a peaceful place where they can work the soil without worries like strangers or capitalism?

“Please stop your talking!” I shout, silencing their whispers. “Is the fact that I’m her daughter isn’t enough? Should I bring the birth certificate?”

“We are done hearing you.” Someone says.

The crowd decides to advance and search the house themselves, for evidence and perhaps valuables.

I wouldn’t let them of course, standing still with my violin in my hands, ready to make the final stand.

“Then allow me to play, if my words mean nothing to you.” I tell them.

The beauty of the language, the quality that whispers to the spirit instead of the mind.

If that wouldn’t stop them I will not know what will. Frankly, a small young lady,

standing in the middle and playing her violin isn’t the most frightening of sights,

yet I have no other choice, I have to play, I have to do this for my mother.

And I sing the music of Salayev, everything around becomes peaceful.

The snow that glitters from the rays of the moon and the touches.

The wind that silently dances and spins from the left to the right.

The fire that starts whispering of warmth to the crowd gathered here.

And finally the soil underneath our feet that sleeps soundly in the night.

All of the nature is in unison, much like the simple mind is with the soil.

It is their song, the song of the people. It is their struggle every day.

It is their determination each year. It is their happiness every generation.

Whatever happens, doesn’t matter, since we have bonds that connect us.

“To be happy for others.”

Someone says.

The next moment I discover that the song ends, but I have trouble feeling my bones.

I suppose I’m no longer standing, since my legs can’t sense the ground.

And moreover, what of the people, what of my mother, and what of me?

All those questions come at me at once and I start to notice a picture.

I see feet, not walking, just standing still. Was I able to stop them all?

I also hear someone in high heels. Is that mother that came to see me?’

I also see blood near where I’m lying. Is that mine, I’m bleeding?

I’m freezing, cold and shivering. I cough and what is released is more red.

But what have I done? What have I managed to do before the crowd threw me to the ground and beaten to a pulp?

I presume I caused a smile on my mother’s face, as she was holding my feeble hand.

That’s the last picture I saw after my eyes closed on their own.

This wasn’t a bad life, I suppose. At least I remained with my mother in the end.

“I will hold onto…you.”

I mutter.