Name: Make A Wish
Story: Starfall
Colors: Nacre #1 (Pearl); White Opal #1 (Wish)
Supplies and Styles: Seed Beads
Word Count: 498
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Notes: 1337, Portcallan; Zila Fayne. (A piece to introduce a character who’s about to get unwisely sucked into some of the politicking.)
Summary: There are some things Zila wants more than is wise.

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Zila counted a rain of small coins out of the box she’d put out and found her singing had earned her sufficient for some sort of supper. She gathered herself up and wandered away towards the Watersgate and the harbour, where the streets steepened, inclining towards the sea.

As she passed through street, many of the stalls were packing up, with little good left in the way of fresh produce, but they were replaced in turn by food vendors, some with a stall, some only with trays, offering almost anything Zila could have imagined to eat or drink.

Despite the enticing smells, it was something else that caught her eye and brought her to halt in front of one of them. An elderly woman, tightly swathed in a dark shawl against the first sharper sea breeze of autumn, had strings of pearlescent, shell-shaped tokens strung up from her stall that caught the light as they swung and turned. There were more shining piles of them spilled out in plates on the wooden stand.

“Genuine starstone slivers inside,” the seller called.

Zila was irresistibly drawn forward, despite her stomach’s complaints. “I bet!”

The woman gave a short, sharp smile and shook her head. “Oh, that’s not the way to have the tide bring you back your heart’s desire. Besides, I’ll swear to it. I don’t sell rubbish – that’s a genuine fine sliver over the tin. Ask anyone you like.”

“All right – just one, thanks,” said Zila. Portcallan people might laugh, but she was from Eisterway, close enough to Eisterland to have the sense to want the Powers to shine down on her by the sea as in the mountains. Plus, she needed all the luck she could get. She dropped a dozen, hard-earned dirty coppers into the woman’s waiting palm, and then turned to choose her token, closing her eyes and bringing her hand down at random.

Her lucky token clasped tightly in her hand, Zila continued her journey downwards. If she went further along towards Outer Portcallan, she’d find not only the sea, but cheaper food stalls, and she could stretch her earnings out a little more – she hoped.

It was still light, but the edges of evening were beginning to creep in and the city skyline rising behind her darkened as she headed west. Once down on the shingle beach below the Portcallan Tower, Zila ran to the water’s edge. Stopping there; waves lapping close to her feet, she closed her eyes and threw one tiny shell token as far as she could.

She wished – for a great future, a rich future, where she would sing for every important person in Portcallan. Why not? She’d made it all the way here from the eastern mountain hamlets she’d been trying to make a living in; she’d make her way off these streets and into Portcallan’s highest towers here, too.

What she didn’t expect was to have her wish granted before she’d even had the chance to turn around.