A simple life in the middle of nowhere

"And summer is beginning to end soon too, I guess" Lycaon thought to himself, gazing peacefully at the clear blue sky in front of his eyes, the gentle wind softly shaking the leaves of the apple tree under which he was dozing off. The warm afternoon was as tranquil as life could possibly be.

"Winter should not be an issue for the village this year, unlike the last, this time all of us worked our asses off in the fields and farms. There's plenty of food here for twice the population we have." he sighed with contentment. "Not that I had to do any difficult work myself, you could say I am one of the luckiest folk in town with the trade I got here". Lycaon looked proudly at the couple of sheep grazing on the field, spread out evenly.

He was a shepherd for more than a decade, learned the way from his late father, who died when Lycaon was but fourteen. Now, as a fully grown man at the age of twenty-six, his days were all the same, almost blending into one another. As there were no predators lurking around the village, such as wolves or bears, Lycaon's only task was to keep the sheep from straying too far from the pasture and to bring them from and to the barn in the morning and at dusk.

His stomach rumbled. "I haven't eaten anything since I left home, and soon I'll be getting hungry. That apple over there seems rather juicy from down here." He said as he lurched to his feet and picked one of the apples hanging from the tree with his crook. There was never a more succulent fruit, he thought as he sat back down and put his straw hat back on the crown of his head, slightly tilted to shield him from the sunlight that the leaves might have let in. Not before long, Lycaon went back to sleep.

The apple tree stood alone on the meadow, alone from its brethren in the apple garden, located a few dozen meters from where Lycaon rested. In the orchard, where his two brothers worked, Virgil, only ten years of age, helped with the simpler tasks around the garden with his older brother Saul, two years younger than Lycaon. He was considered by many around the village to be the eldest sibling, thanks to his seriousness and mature personality.

Their sister, Avis, helped with the household chores and aided their mother, who was bedridden by an unknown sickness. She was nineteen and would soon leave the family house.

Their lives were by no means extravagant, but they were truly honest and sincere. Melov'era village offered a consistent and simple life for all of its people, each given an equal piece of the pie. No work was considered more valuable than another, instead, they were seen as complementary to one another. There was no currency to divide or ridicule those without, as the villagers never had the need for money. They bought and sold between themselves, but only by trading resources. Thus, everyone depended on everyone, and no one's lot was greater than another's. The shepherd was just as respected as the mason.

...

He was woken up by the barking of a dog. Her name was Wool, and as Lycaon liked to say "she was more often than not the only one not sleeping on the job". Her ears pointing at the sky, she barked joyfully at him, waiting for a response.

"What were the sheep up to while I was resting? Did they start any trouble?" he scratched her behind the ear as he got up. Wool only barked happily in response to that. "You took care of them? I knew I could trust you, girl."

Together, they went and gathered all the sheep into one place and slowly walked back to the barn. The sun was beginning to set.

As he was walking around town with his dog after finishing work, Lycaon met with his brother Saul on the road.

"How was your day at the orchard?" he asked.

"The usual work, nothing I can't manage. Seems like Virgil is starting to improve, he was less of a burden today than yesterday." he said jokingly.

"Glad to hear, soon he will be scolding me too for slacking off on the job, like you and Avis. Now that you mention it, where did he go off now?"

"He told me he'd go out with his buddies this evening, play around on the edge of town. You know how we all were at his age, adventurous like that."

"Haha, I sure was, but I don't remember you being the adventurous one." Lycaon laughed. "You always stayed home with that scowl on your face, telling us how dangerous it was. And we were only going up to the base of the hill."

"Or at least that's how much you told me you were going to do."

"Almost forgot to tell you, Avis said the merchants are coming to town tomorrow, said we could buy some more wood from them."

"So you'll be seeing your friend Kester again, I haven't seen him in ages. They barely come around here anymore." Saul paused for a second. "There's also Nell coming along with them, I'm sure. Maybe you too could talk again, fix things, you know?"

Lycaon thought about it for a second. "I don't think so, last time we talked ended with a fight. I think I prefer this more..." he struggled for the right word. Lonely, maybe? "Solitary lifestyle."

"You might regret that decision later on in your life, brother, but I won't force you. You always loved nature more than anything."

"Exactly. You thrive in the heart of the village, helping people where help is needed and always being someone to rely on. I, on the other hand, would go out with friends and socialize, but at the end of the day, they would always find me alone, on a hill in the middle of nowhere, gazing at the sky."

"Yeah, I guess you were like that."

...

Now, after sundown, almost every day of the week, Lycaon could be found in Melov'era's only tavern, The Dainty Bell, always open and always full. He had no need to worry about finding a seat, as there was one reserved only for him by the innkeeper.

He would often come with two or three buddies of his, some were tailors, others farmers. This time he was alone, at his usual round table, eating porridge with a small beer and thinking about the eventful next day while waiting for Gleeful Mike. He was the merchant who arrived in town earlier than the rest, traveling on a large panther-like mount from distant lands. His items were always more exotic than those of the other merchant group, which usually arrived a day or two later. The townsfolk were fond of the theory that Mike hurried every week to come first so that he could trade more resources than them. Imagining him scurrying through endless deserts and jungles just to get here one day before the others was extremely amusing to the villagers.

Lycaon finished his meal and ordered another while waiting for the busy merchant, who was more than likely trading with dozens at once, while Saul was trying his best to keep peace and order where he could.

Finally, just when he was about to lose hope and head home, the inn's doors were opened by none other than Mike, carrying a gigantic bag of goods on his back. His signature companion, the large cat, was sitting down at the inn's entrance, curiously looking inside through one of the windows with two large amethyst eyes.

All of a sudden, the tables emptied as people went outside to get a closer look at the alien creature. Meanwhile, little to no attention was given to Mike, who waved at Lycaon as if they had last met yesterday.

"Good to see you, old friend. How's your one-man traveling bazaar holding up these days?" greeted Lycaon with a mug of ale in hand for Gleeful Mike.