A Knock at the Door
A Knock at the door
The fire refused to burn.
No matter how much wood Elara stacked, the blue flame flickered weakly, sputtering as if gasping for air. The runes carved into the stone hearth glowed faintly, pulsing in uneven rhythm. Outside, the storm howled across the mountain peaks, and the old tower shuddered with every gust. Elara’s hands themselves were shaking, from the cold and the exertion of stacking firewood.
Then—three knocks echoed from the door. Slow. Heavy. Measured.
No one should’ve been able to climb the mountain in this weather.
Elara slowly rose. She stopped stacking wood and moved to the door. The small peephole was completely obscured by frost, so she opened the heavy wooden door. Outside stood a giant. He wore only light fur coverings, yet despite the blustering wind seemed completely unaffected. Elara had never seen this man before, yet he gave off an air of familiarity. She saw a kind light in his eyes. He moved to head through the door, and Elara found herself stepping to the side. Elara went to close the door, but the cold from outside didn’t seem to be entering. In fact, she felt a draw to the outdoors. She left it open and moved to the Giant.
He sat down near Elara’s ineffectual fire and produced a small clay cup from the folds of his tunic. Elara was disconcerted with this stranger in her house so sat across from him.
“Where do you hail from, traveler?” Elara asked.
The giant looked at her with a sorrowful look on his face.
“I live every day in these mountains.”
As Elara talked to this man, the tremors in her hands stilled.
“Why are you here?”
He once again looked at her, as if appraising her.
“Even the strongest embers can find it hard to keep the cold out.”
She nodded her head in understanding. Elara herself found the same thing. Since her son had left, she had been tending to this tower all by herself, no place for a seventy year old woman.
“Here, stay by the fire. I’ll get us something to eat.”
Elara started to get up, but the man held up a hand to forestall her.
“No need. We’ll be going soon.”
At those words, Elara felt a strange sense of peace and familiarity. She was starting to get an idea of who this man was. The two sat in companionable silence for another five minutes, before the giant shifted towards her.
“Do you know why I’m here?”
“I did something wrong.” Elara responded.
“No no, nothing like that. Every fire goes out. Especially when no one is there to tend to it.”
“My son went out for wood. He’ll be back soon.”
“I spoke with him already. He sent me to you.”
“What could I have done?”
“Nothing. You did everything you should. Are you ready to go?”
Elara gave one last look at the stone room. She saw her rocking chair, the wood worn after years of use. Her little library in the corner, all the book titles faded away. Finally, she looked at the hearth and the fire that she could not start.
“I’m not sure. How will they find me?”
The giant waved a hand around the room and Elara saw herself laying in her own bed, eyes closed. She stepped closer. She lay as if in a gentle sleep. Her face was finally free of the worry lines that had etched themselves through years of harsh living.
Elara turned to the giant.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
The giant took Elara’s hand. Elara walked to the door with him, and Death closed the door as they left.
