Spark
Chapter 1 (an excerpt)
Fire,
both life-giver and death-bringer, ruled the dark, sooty room called
Asiménia Fotiá. Glowing embers leapt up from the breathing inferno,
traveling on whatever slight breeze passed through an open door or
window. When their tiny lives were spent, they fell to rest on every
surface, now ghostly gray. Ashes, mixed with filaments of iron, bronze,
and silver, coated the brick fireplace, the black anvil, and the dirt
floor. Rows of tools, in various stages of completion, hung from hooks
on the ceiling. Chariot wheels, iron gates, and plates of armor angled
up against the wall. A ragged broomstick occupied the far right corner
of the shop. It had been used that morning, yet from the soot that
covered its Cyprus wood handle, one would think it hadn’t been touched
in a month.
Moist,
salty air from the nearby Mediterranean wafted in and swirled through
the smoke. But it brought little relief. The heat from the fire
pulsated, visible in the quivering air. The only other movement came
from the bellows, which pumped the fire into a roar. Hunched over the
bellows was the figure of a man; so at home in his surroundings that it
took a careful eye to spot him at all. His tunic, once white, was now
black with soot and tattered at the knees. An ashy film covered his
hands and face, silvering his African complexion. The only source of
light came from the man’s eyes, striking white scleras encompassing
pinpricks of blue sea. With these distinctive features, Isaias was
unlike any other commoner in the bustling port of Alexandria.