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From the Journal of Weren, Village Historian
1st day of Winter
Year 10 of Fire's Reign

Today has been quite an eventful day indeed.

I was sitting quietly in my study pouring over notes and old volumes of history that needed to be mended when a knock came upon my door.  My wife Rhana was there beckoning to me anxiously.

“She has returned,” she whispered.

I could see tears in her eyes and wondered who it was that had appeared to make her react in such a way.  Following her out into the freezing air I was suddenly filled with a happiness so profound I cried as well.

The Water Goddess was back among us.

She stood in the center of the village square gazing at us warmly.  Her body was wrapped in a sheet of then silk secured with pearls and other treasures of the oceans.  Fins ran from her shoulders to her wrists and along her legs flexing now and again as the cold wind ran over them.  Hair of silver hung about her waving as though trapped in the flow of the lazy summer streams.  Eyes of green looked out from a small face above the delicate nose and pale lips.  She was the same as we had seen her nearly ten years ago.

Except that she did not stand quite as tall or quite as proud.

Then she began to walk.  She never turned from her path or explored other streets; she seemed to know exactly where she wanted to go.  And we followed her to the home of Emily and Caleb.  When I arrived I suddenly recalled that Emily had gone into labor earlier in the day and that it was not going well.  The midwife had sent for the elders some time ago as it did not seem that Emily or the child would survive.

It was this home the Goddess entered.

Emily was laying in bed her breathing shallow her face pale.  Caleb held her hand and whispered to her.  The midwife held the infant in her arms but the child looked no better off than her mother.

“I do not understand,” the midwife said to the elder Morene.  “The birth should have gone smoothly but it appears that both mother and child will not survive to see the night.”

Suddenly the Goddess moved forward quickly and took the silent infant from the midwife’s arms.  Placing a hand to the child’s forehead she closed her eyes to cast for what ever it was that ailed her.  Then her eyes flew open and she drew her hand away.

“His treachery knows no bounds,” she whispered placing the girl in her mother’s arms.  “His curse runs through this child’s veins."  She suddenly seemed to bend under a great weight.  "It is for this that I have returned.”

Morene came to her side.  “You are weak Goddess.  You cannot mean to sacrifice what little strength you have to save a cursed child!”

The Goddess laughed gently.  “You who call yourselves Walkers can see the flow of time but one way.  You can tread the waters to the past as your strength allows.  To record history was the purpose I gave to you.  But I can see the paths that stretch to the future if only occasionally and blurrily.  Since the first day of my exile this birth has weighed heavily on my mind and so I have been saving my strength to save these lives.  This child has a purpose to fulfill.  Whether it is for good or ill I cannot tell you but all people should be granted a chance to play their roles.”  She put her hands on the child and mother.  “Guard her well.  She will be strong and He touched this little one for a reason.  Whatever it is, it will not be for the good of all.”

A sudden, blinding light filled the room and when it faded our Goddess was gone.  Morene returned her attention to the child now sleeping quietly in her mother’s embrace.  Seeing me in the crowd that stood just outside the door, she motioned for me to enter and took the infant into her own arms.  I drew out my book of village history and a pen when I realized she intended to name the child.

“Emily,” she said slowly.  “You are blessed to have this little one.”  She smiled down at the girl now awake and gazing at her with wide eyes.  “I name you Miranda.”  As I wrote the name down she returned Miranda to her mother’s side.  “She will be well trained.  I assure you of that.”

“Thank you,” Emily whispered.  The exhausted mother stroked her child’s face once before falling into a deep sleep.

Morene watched them for several moments longer before leaving the small house followed by the elders and I.  Outside the house she stopped to address the crowd.  “Emily lives as will her child…Miranda.”  Eyes went wide when the name was spoken.  “The Goddess has charged us with the care of this infant.  Let us fulfill her wishes as we have always strived to do.”  When the crowd nodded, Morene began leading the elders away, no doubt to discuss the implications of the birth.  As she passed me I heard her whisper, “A Walker with the gift of flames…what will come of this?”

As we watched them take their leave we fell into our own discussions.  What would become of this child, a child who should have died thanks to the curse of fire that runs through her veins?  How would such a curse affect her true gift to walk the seas of time?  And what was Morene thinking to name this infant after the first Walker to have walked in the world?

Rhana said later that everyone should cease their worrying, that the Goddess herself had said the girl would be strong.

As I prepare to lay my pen down for the day I think over what she said.  I must say that Rhana does not fully understand the unease some of us feel.  It is not the child’s power or lack thereof that worries me.  There is no doubt she will be quite valuable in the years to come.  It is who she is valuable to that fills me with dread.