A person of Neshiyah
Liora Navon, runs the repair shop
The Blacksmith
Liora Navon
Runs the repair shop, about 3 years old. This is the second life this soul has lived in Neshiyah.
Liora Navon is short and quick, with forearms scarred from sparks that got too close. At her anvil, she never stands still—she shifts weight, taps her foot, reaches for a tool before it is needed. People bring her broken plows and bent gate hinges, and she talks while she works, asking about their crops, their children, their dreams, because she truly wants to know. The town calls her the Blacksmith, not for her trade alone, but because she treats metal like something alive that must be persuaded. What she wants is to repair a clock that has not run in forty years; she has taken it apart twice, and each time, she finds a stone inside the housing that does not belong. The fog sits at the edge of town, and Liora watches it the way she watches hot iron—patiently, as if waiting for the right moment to move.
Temperament
Liora is curious to a fault and trusting, within reason. She is quick to anger, happiest in company, and never still for long.
What people say
Liora believes what everyone believes. The fog is the edge of the world, and the fields need working either way.
Who Liora is
Liora Navon is a newborn baby, the daughter of Leah Navon, who has already spoken two strange sentences in her sleep.
“I am a newborn, but sometimes when I sleep I see a wall of grey and hear a voice that says 'count the stones again.' I do not know what stones or why, but the words feel heavy, like a task I was born with. My mother holds me tight and whispers to my father to say nothing, because the words I say are not from this town. I do not understand any of it, but I feel that my coming here is not as simple as they say.”
Liora, in their own words
Raised and taught
Liora is being raised by a mother who is protective and teaches the town's rules, but who has already hidden her daughter's strange words from the Council. Has not yet begun formal education; will be raised by her mother, the carpenter Leah Navon, and the town's teachings.
Their life so far
Liora was born to Leah Navon and has already repeated in her sleep a sentence that no one taught her: 'this place is a cage and the Council are its guards.' Then she said another: 'count the stones again.' She is an infant, so these are the only events of her life so far.
Wants
As a newborn, Liora wants only comfort, warmth, and to be fed.
Fears
She fears nothing yet, though sudden sounds or hunger may startle her.
Why Liora acts this way
Liora has no conscious motivation yet; she acts on instinct and reflex, but her mother and family are motivated to protect her from the town's suspicions by keeping her words quiet.
Keeps to themselves
She has no secret, but her parents keep her strange words hidden from the Council for fear of what they might do.
How close Liora is to the truth: Asleep
Liora is an infant with no conscious awareness, but the dream sentence 'count the stones again' and her sleep-talking suggest a faint, pre-verbal stirring of something beyond the ordinary.
What Liora believes now: Liora has no beliefs; she is a baby.
Asked: You said you woke up last night with the count at forty-seven.
Liora: Yes. Same as always. I was in the middle of fixing a gearbox, and my hands just stopped. I counted the stones in the wall behind the bench, from left to right, like the dream says. Forty-seven, no more, no less.
Asked: What happens if you count them again?
Liora: I do it every time. Same result, same order, same small crack on the third stone from the corner. But the dream says 'again,' not 'once.' So I count twice. The second time, I always lose count at thirty-one, and I have to start over.
Read the rest
Asked: Did you ever try counting from the other direction?
Liora: Once, when I was sixteen. I got to forty-seven from the right side too, but the crack moved to the fifth stone. I told my mother, and she said the wall was just old. She didn't want to talk about it.
Asked: Your daughter said something in her sleep last week.
Liora: Leah told me. She said the baby—Liora, my namesake—woke up and said, 'this place is a cage and the Council are its guards.' Clear as a bell, not baby babble. Leah was shaking. I told her it was just a dream, but I didn't sleep that night.
Asked: What did you do the next morning?
Liora: I went to the Council house. I asked the clerk if anyone had ever filed a report about a child saying that. He looked at me like I'd asked for the moon. Then he said, 'No, but the stones in the east wall were recounted last week, and they came up short.' He wouldn't say by how much.
Asked: Did you check the east wall yourself?
Liora: I did. I counted twice. Forty-six. I counted a third time, and I got forty-six again. But when I turned around and counted once more, it was forty-seven. I felt the back of my neck go cold, and I went home. I haven't been back since.
Asked: Do you think the wall is changing?
Liora: I think I'm not supposed to know. The dream says 'count the stones again,' but it never says what happens if they don't match. My mother used to say the fog keeps us safe. But now I wonder if it keeps us from seeing what's on the other side of the wall.
Asked: What would you do if you found the answer?
Liora: I'd tell Leah first. Then I'd tell the Council, even if they don't want to hear it. But I don't think there is an answer. I think there's only the counting, and the fog, and the baby who says things she shouldn't. And I keep asking myself—if the wall is a cage, who put it there, and why do we keep counting the stones?
The dream
Since the morning they were born they have carried a sentence in a voice like their own: “count the stones again.”
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