Albite's memories of her mother were always filled with the image of a woman spinning thread in a shabby hut.

Her mother possessed an intelligence and capability far beyond what was typical for a rural woman, but there was a reason they had to live in such a place.

Each morning, without realizing it, Albite's mother would utter seemingly random phrases.

"Is the woodcutter's house on fire?"

"...No?"

"Oh, that's good. It means he remembered to put out the embers."

Most of the time, these statements were off the mark, but occasionally, they were eerily accurate—like when predicting an unexpected …