Chapter 1:THE PLIGHT OF THE FARMER
"Wisdom is not only defined by what you know but also by knowing what you don't. To know what you know and what you don't know, that is true knowledge."
The pulley creaked as Heather yanked it from above, her fingers gripping the worn, crusty rope twisted around the small bucket meant for fetching water from the well. A faint groan escaped her lips as she struggled with the weight, cursing the heaviness that always accompanied the rope after a night of rain. With a resigned sigh, she lowered the bucket into the well, ensuring it was fully submerged before she began drawing up the water.
As the rope slipped from her grasp, she felt a presence, as if someone were breathing down her neck. "What the heck?" Heather spun around, only to find herself enveloped in a tight embrace. Gasping, she recognized the familiar scent of her brother.
"Miss me?"
Andrea chuckled at his sister's startled reaction, squeezing her even tighter until his worn shirt became damp with her tears. Heather buried her face in her brother's chest, nodding in response to his question.
"Where were you?"
He smiled down at her before nudging her away from the well, taking hold of the rope to draw up the bucket himself.
"You know where I was, Heather," he said, glancing at her as he transferred the water into their ceramic containers.
Fidgeting, Heather's gaze darted around, searching for something.
"Where's your sword, Andrea?" she asked, her brow furrowing.
"There's no sword, Heather."
"What do you mean there's no sword? You went to the capital for the tryout, didn't you?" Andrea couldn't meet his sister's gaze, his voice tinged with reluctance.
"I did. That's why I was gone for three years," he finally admitted, sensing they were on the verge of a breakthrough.
"Right, so why haven't you brought back your sword? You should have brought it back, or did you leave it at the campsite?" Heather's palms grew sweaty as she grew increasingly restless, waiting for answers from her brother, who seemed hesitant to discuss what had transpired in the capital.
"There's no sword, Heather. I didn't make it. I wasn't strong enough, capable enough to join the honourable knights. I can't get us out of Jaded Oak."
Frustrated with her brother's revelation, Heather turned away from Andrea, unwilling to continue the conversation. Andrea was taken aback by his sister's abrupt departure, determined not to let the matter rest.
"What's so wrong about not wanting to become a knight? Look, I became a merchant and there's this small kiosk near the capital that I owned," he said, attempting to reason with her.
Heather, however, remained silent, finding his logic nonsensical.
Stopping in her tracks, she turned to look at Andrea one last time. Her gaze fell to his shoes—they were brand new, his clothes clean and fresh, unlike hers.
'I wish I were you,' she thought bitterly.
It wasn't fair for her or her younger siblings. They had sacrificed their education to send him to the capital.
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Plucking a few apples from the tree behind the stable, Heather wanted to surprise Wendy, her beloved horse. Sneaking up to Wendy, she burst out from behind the stable door, eliciting an excited neigh from her equine friend. "I brought you your favourite apple, freshly plucked from the tree!" Heather exclaimed, but Wendy was too eager to stay still, galloping around with delight at the sight of the treat.
"Hold still, Wen," Heather chuckled, unlocking the stable door and slipping inside. She stealthily fed the apple to Wendy, rubbing her side affectionately. Heather hummed a random tune her father used to sing, stopping abruptly as Wendy nudged her shoulder, offering her the last piece of the apple.
Wendy wasn't fond of sharing, but Heather gladly made an exception. As Heather reached for the apple, it accidentally rolled out of Wendy's stall and landed on Lady Maria Page's feet. Picking up the apple, Lady Maria eyed her daughter sceptically.
"For the umpteenth time, Heather, I've told you this apple is not for eating. We're supposed to sell them for coins. Giving them to Wendy won't earn us any money. None at all." she scolded. Heather rolled her eyes in annoyance, kicking the small pebbles found scattered in front of her.
"Wendy needs to be fed at least one apple a day. Hay and carrots aren't enough for her growth. If Father were here, he'd agree," uttering under her breath.
"Well, unfortunately for all of us, he's dead. If he were still breathing, we wouldn't be stuck in this forgotten part of Ovadel."
Wendy let out a small whine as if it was agreeing with Heather's sentiments.
"Stop speaking ill of your father, Heather. He died protecting the kingdom, protecting you, me, Andrea, and all of us," Lady Maria admonished. Heather was one of the few siblings who had been close to their father, Lord Tristan Smyth.
When he returned from war, he would bring back a trove of treasures and trinkets from the capital, much to the delight of Heather and her eldest brother, Jonathan. It had been their favourite time of year, waiting for their father to return safely. He had been their hero, but everything had changed.
Heather's father, Lord Tristan Smyth, fell victim to the brutal onslaught during the war between mankind and the spirits. Ambushed by a horde of malevolent entities, he fought ferociously, but the overwhelming numbers overpowered him.
Captured alive, Lord Tristan endured excruciating torture at the hands of the spirits, enduring unimaginable agony as they inflicted upon him unspeakable horrors.
Ultimately, they dealt the final, gruesome blow-beheading him in a savage display of brutality. Tristan's mutilated corpse was discovered among the fallen soldiers, his head gruesomely severed from his body, a stark reminder of the merciless nature of war and the price paid by those who stood against it.
Although the body was yet to be found, some even said that it was just a made-up rumour and that the god of war was punishing him by making him vanish through thin air.
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"Andrea came back yesterday at midnight. Have you seen him? He said he misses you," Lady Maria remarked, still holding onto the hay delivered earlier this morning.
Heather nodded nonchalantly, whistling to Wendy and avoiding her mother's gaze.
Heather sensed her mother's pride in Andrea's accomplishments, knowing she would soon be compared to him. It weighed heavily on her, the constant reminder of her inadequacies leaving her feeling unseen and unappreciated.
"You should learn from him, Heather. He's working as a merchant near the capital and is earning a quarter of what your father used to make. It's admirable,"
Lady Maria commented, her tone tinged with disapproval. Heather wanted to argue, but then it dawned on her.
"You knew he was a merchant all along, didn't you? That's why you weren't surprised by the news," she accused.
Her mother nodded in agreement.
"I did. I'm grateful he found his calling."
Heather's frustration grew, fueling her resentment toward her brother and Lady Maria.
"You're setting a bad example by letting him leave us behind. If Father were here, he'd never have allowed us to quit school for him. He died because of the war, not because he was a failure. The real failure is your son. None of them grew up to be honourable men,"
Heather spat, her anger boiling over.
Lady Maria grabbed a handful of hay and threw it at Heather, her eyes blazing with fury.
"Don't you dare speak ill of any of my sons," she snarled.
"-and those were just senseless rumours going around. who knows that he might be there with another woman and having children with her near the city. That's why he left us all."
Heather stormed out of the stable, snatching the apple away from her mother before leaving.
"Watch your so-called admirable son leave us behind. Watch as you regret letting us sacrifice our education for him. Father died for us, but you're betraying his memory."
she shouted over her shoulder.
To Heather's dismay, every word her mother spoke rang true.
She did lack everything—education, opportunity, and respect. With that bitter realization weighing heavily on her, she wandered into the woods, riding Wendy until they reached a secluded spot beneath the Jaded Oak, hidden from the prying eyes of the villagers.
Here, she finally felt free.
Gathering wild berries for Wendy, Heather watched as her horse contentedly nibbled on them, one by one.
(A/N: Take note that you are not supposed to give horses berries in large quantities. This is just fiction. I do not condone animal cruelty.)
As Heather tossed a few pebbles into the nearby lake, she couldn't help but reflect on the unfairness of it all.
"Anyone would be deemed witless if they weren't schooled. We barely have any coins to our name. Father left us with a handful of gold and silver, and you squandered it all on Andrea and Jonathan,"
Heather murmured to herself, her hand halting mid-air as she realized the truth.
"She still has that gold coin, doesn't she? After all these years, didn't she ever consider of the thought of sending any of us to the Academy? That conniving old woman set us up. This is absurd."
(A/N: As the story progresses, the map I'm currently working on will also be updated. If you're reading this while the story is still being actively updated, things might be a little confusing for you, as fantasy requires visualization of the world and layout of the map, along with other important details.
Do not worry, when the story is completed, I'll provide a link for everyone to refer to the map. Unfortunately, I can't upload any pictures here in this chapter. As we go along, I'll also discuss how the currency works, how to count, and other important details in each chapter. I hope you won't skip this part, as it will help you figure out some important aspects of the story.)
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