Nearing the farm, Reece slowed the wagon down and shouted back to me. “The Arcana are at the farmhouse. Looks like they’re inside—I can see their horses tethered up outside. When we’re back, you untie Loly and take her for a drink. The trough’s just behind the farmhouse. Try to stay out of sight and don’t talk to the Arcana. Do you understand?”

I grunted in response, sinking deeper into the barrels, their rough wood biting into my back. There was definitely something more going on here. Reece’s insistence on keeping me away from the Arcana felt... off, the same as when we’d crossed paths with them on the road. What was he hiding? Or was it something about me?

The wagon jerked to a halt at the rear of the farmhouse. Reece dismounted, his boots landing heavily on the ground as he made a straight line for the farmhouse door. I stayed behind, doing as I’d been told, removing the harness from poor Loly’s back. The leather had left deep indentations in her side, a stark reminder of the hard life these farm animals endured. I patted her nose, offering what little comfort I could as I led her for a drink.

The quiet moment with Loly allowed my mind to wander. My thoughts swirled with the day's events. That strange energy I had felt in the orchard, the tendrils of power that seemed to connect everything—the trees, the apples, even Reece and me. It was still buzzing under my skin, like a current of warmth I couldn’t quite grasp.

I absentmindedly grabbed an apple from one of the barrels, intending to share it with Loly, but when I bit into it, the taste was bitter and rotten, despite its outward appearance. I spat it out, disgusted, and went to toss the apple aside when Reece’s voice snapped at me from the corner of the barn.

“What do you think you're doing? Those are for the collection. They're not for you—put it back.”

I dropped the apple, turning to face him. Something shifted in the air between us. The tendrils of energy I had sensed before seemed to flare up again, now clearly visible as they flowed in and out of him, flickering like embers. My confidence swelled—I was going to confront his behavior, once and for all.

But before I could speak, Reece’s tone softened, his earlier hostility replaced by something more cautious. “Da wants you inside. The Arcana are gone.”

“What?” I stumbled over the word, momentarily thrown off. I had been so focused on what I was going to say that his sudden shift caught me off guard. “The Arcana are gone?”

“Yeah. Da wants you in the farmhouse,” Reece said, avoiding my gaze as he busied himself with untying Loly. “I’ll take care of her. You’re a strange one, Rags, that’s for sure. Now go on, hurry up. There's still plenty of work to do when you’re done.”

Feeling a twinge of unease, I headed inside, my heart pounding in my chest. Ged was seated at the table when I entered, his massive frame somehow smaller than it had been earlier in the day. His once broad shoulders slumped with weariness, and the deep lines on his face seemed more pronounced. His gray beard, streaked with white, covered much of his weathered face, but his eyes—clear and sharp—were fixed on me.

“Ragan, my lad,” Ged began, his voice low and gravelly. He nudged a chair toward me with his boot, the old wooden legs scraping against the floor. “Come and sit down for a moment. We need to have a little chat.”

“Reece said you’ve been a great help this morning. That’s great news, my lad.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. Had Reece really said something nice about me?

“Just trying to help,” I said, forcing a smile. “You know, pay my way.”

Ged leaned forward, his hands clasped together on the table. “Did you see the Arcana outside?”

“Not outside, but me and Reece met them on the road to the orchard. I didn’t speak to them much, Reece... well, Reece did most of the talking.” My fingers brushed against the side of my head, still tender from where Reece had struck me. Even though he’d lashed out, I couldn’t bring myself to tell Ged. I don’t know why, but it felt... wrong.

Ged’s eyes narrowed slightly, studying my face. “I see. Do you know who the Arcana are?”

I shook my head, avoiding his gaze. There was a growing sense of shame bubbling up inside me, though I couldn’t place why. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but guilt still gnawed at the edges of my thoughts.

“Didn’t suppose you would,” Ged muttered, scratching his beard. “It’s been... oh, sixteen, maybe seventeen winters since I last saw one around these parts. The Enforcers, Adepts of the Arcana, answer to no one but the King and the High Lord Arcanit himself—Balos.” His voice dropped to a near whisper, as if even speaking the name out loud, would cause trouble.

“They’re steadfast in their beliefs, boy. And ruthless in executing their duty. They’d burn this whole farm to the ground without a second thought if they even suspected a ‘Mu’ was hiding here.”

“A... Mu?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I met Ged’s eyes.

“A magic user,” Ged replied, his voice steady, but the gravity of his words hung in the air like a noose. “Mu’s we call ‘em. Outlawed years ago after the Celestial Wars. The Arcana are here investigating what happened at Moss Side—the same place Jacob found you. Do you understand what that means?”

I nodded slowly, the reality of the situation sinking in. A cold wave of panic washed over me, my chest tightening as the color drained from my face.

“Now, don’t panic, lad. Nothing to worry about—yet. Jacob’s my brother. I trust him with my life. He wouldn't have brought you here if he thought you were a danger to us. But we have to be smart, keep what we know to ourselves. The Arcana could return at any moment, and when they do, it’s best you steer clear of them. Keep your head down, stay out of their way.”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “I will. I won’t cause any trouble, Ged. You won’t even know I’m here.”

“Well,” Ged said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “I don’t know about that. We’ve still got plenty of work to do, but maybe for the rest of the day, you can help Sophia out with the feeding. Might be easier on that swollen eye of yours.”

I winced, my hand instinctively rising to my still-tender face. The dull throb was a constant reminder of Reece’s aggression earlier.

“Jacob should be back in a few days,” Ged continued, his voice calm but firm. “When he gets here, we’ll sort all this out, without bringing the Arcana into it. Just keep your wits about you, lad. We don’t need any extra attention.”

I nodded, I didn’t want to cause these people any trouble and if only half I knew was true, stirring up anything right now could get these people killed. “I understand, Ged. I’ll keep to myself and help with the chores.”

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Ged gave a slow, approving nod, his eyes softening. “Good lad. Go on, now. Sophia will be expecting you.”

As I stood to leave, I glanced back at Ged. His large, calloused hands rested on the table, the lines on his face deepened by worry and age. For a moment, I saw not just the strong, resilient farmer, but a man who had lived through hardships, and pain. It was my face, my old face with all the pain that you endured through life. A man trying to protect his family in a world that had no mercy for those who fell out of line.

Stepping outside, I let the fresh air hit my lungs, the warmth of the sun contrasting sharply with the cold knot of fear that still lingered in my chest. I had to be careful, the danger here is not just to myself, but everyone here, the whole farm.

The Arcana, hunting down magic users like prey. And I... I was something else now. Something I didn’t understand, but it was tied to that power I had felt in the orchard, and in my hands—the way the energy had flowed into me. The way it had made my body burn with a strange heat.

I need time. I need to be careful.

I found Sophia by the pigsty, her small frame almost hidden behind the large trough she was filling with grain. Her golden hair caught the afternoon light, glowing as if she herself were lit from within. She hummed softly to herself, an easy, lilting tune that reminded me of a summer breeze through long grass. As I approached, the smell of fresh hay mingled with the earthy scent of animals, and for a moment, the weight of the morning’s events seemed to fade into the background.

Sophia looked up and flashed a bright smile as she saw me. “Well, look who finally made it! Come to help me with the real work?”

I chuckled, feeling a lightness I hadn’t felt since I returned from Aerndill. “I guess I’ve been drafted. What do you need me to do?”

“First things first,” Sophia said, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “These pigs are greedy, but you’ll love them. See this one?” She pointed to a plump sow near the back, its snout already buried in the food. “That’s Griselda. She’s the matriarch, you could say. If you feed her first, the others will fall in line.”

I grinned. “Griselda, huh? She looks like she runs the place.”

“She thinks she does,” Sophia replied, tossing more feed into the trough. “But don’t let her boss you around. She’ll nudge you if she thinks you’re not paying attention.” As if on cue, Griselda snorted and shoved her way closer to Sophia, demanding more food.

“Here,” Sophia said, handing me a bucket of slop. “You take this over to the goats. They’re fussier than the pigs, believe it or not. You’d think they’d eat anything, but no—apparently, our goats have refined tastes.” She rolled her eyes playfully.

I took the bucket and headed toward the goat pen, where a pair of goats, both with large, curling horns, stood watching me with an almost regal air. I shook my head, laughing softly to myself. “Refined tastes, huh?” I muttered, tipping the bucket into their trough.

As the goats began to eat, I leaned on the fence, watching them. “You know,” I said aloud, though I wasn’t sure if I was talking to the goats or to myself, “back where I’m from, goats like these were a rare sight. Farmers prized them for their milk and wool, but most people never knew just how stubborn they could be. If you wanted to move a goat, you had to get it to think it was its own idea.”

Sophia appeared at my side, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Really? What else did you raise back home?”

I hesitated, memories of my old life—before all of this—flashing before me. The battles, the losses, the weight of those years. But here, in this moment, with Sophia looking at me with such interest, it felt like those memories belonged to another man. I shrugged. “Chickens, mostly. They were easier to manage. Well, except when the foxes came sniffing around.”

Sophia giggled. “I can imagine. The hens probably ran around clucking like crazy.”

I laughed, a genuine, deep sound that surprised even me. It bubbled up from somewhere I thought had long been closed off. It felt good—like a release. Sophia joined in, her laughter light and musical, like the melody she had been humming earlier.

For a while, we simply fed the animals in companionable silence. I helped with the cows, lugging heavy buckets of water to their troughs while Sophia tossed out handfuls of feed. The cows were docile, their large eyes watching us with a kind of patient wisdom, as if they understood more than they let on.

The farmyard itself was a peaceful place, despite the constant activity. The barn stood tall, its weathered wood glowing in the late afternoon sun. Nearby, chickens scratched at the dirt, clucking softly as they pecked at grain. In the distance, fields of wheat swayed gently in the breeze, golden and ripe for harvest. The air was thick with the scent of hay, earth, and animals—a far cry from the clean, misty air of the Faye realm, but comforting in its own way.

After a while, Sophia leaned against the fence, her expression turning more serious. “I heard Da talking to Mum last night,” she said, her voice quieter now. “He’s worried about the clollections.”

I turned to her, listening intently.

“They don’t talk about it much in front of us,” she continued, “but I heard him say the Arcana have been asking for more and more each year. It’s like they’re never satisfied. And with the harvest being late this season...” She trailed off, her face clouded with concern.

I felt a pang of sympathy for her, for Ged and Ros. The Arcana were ruthless, that much I had learned, and if they were sniffing around here, it couldn’t be good.

“I’m sure Ged will figure something out,” I said, trying to offer some comfort. “He seems like a smart man.”

Sophia nodded, though her worry didn’t fade. “I hope so,” she murmured.

We stood there for a moment longer, watching the animals as the sun dipped lower in the sky. A breeze picked up, carrying with it the sounds of distant birdsong and the rustle of leaves. It was peaceful, but beneath that peace, I could sense an undercurrent of tension. The Arcana were a shadow over this place, and I knew that my presence wasn’t helping to lighten that burden.

But for now, in this quiet moment with Sophia, I allowed myself to enjoy the simplicity of farm life. I had been through more than most could imagine, but here, surrounded by animals and the soft glow of the setting sun, I felt unburdened by it all.

A sense of normalcy. A brief taste of what it might be like to live without the weight of, command, the weight or responsibility, the weight of destiny pressing down on me.

Over the next several days, I threw myself into the work, determined to keep my head down and do my part for Ged’s family. With the Arcana still out there, their presence looming like a dark cloud, I knew I couldn’t risk tapping into whatever strange magic had awakened inside me. I had to protect these people, this farm. They’d taken me in, shown me kindness, and the last thing I wanted was to bring the wrath of the Arcana down on them.

The days blurred together, each one filled with the same exhausting rhythm. We focused on gathering the harvest—fields of golden wheat and barley that seemed to stretch forever. I’d never worked in a field before, but it didn’t take long to pick up the rhythm. Swing the sickle, cut the stalks, bundle them together, load them onto the carts. My body ached in ways it hadn’t in years, but there was something satisfying about the work. It felt honest, simple, and it kept my mind occupied.

Reece was still a pain, never missing a chance to mutter some complaint under his breath or bark at me to move faster. He worked with a chip on his shoulder, and though it grated on my nerves, I held my tongue. I wasn’t about to let some spoiled child push me into doing something reckless. The threat of the Arcana was enough to keep me in line. No matter how much I wanted to tap into the power I’d felt at the orchid, I knew I couldn’t. Not here. Not now.

In the evenings, we gathered around the table, sharing simple meals—stews made from root vegetables and meat, fresh bread when we were lucky. The air around the table was always thick with the weariness of the day, but there was comfort in the routine. It felt like being part of something, even if just for a short while.

Word came from Ged’s brother, Jacob, saying he’d been delayed and wouldn’t be back for a while. That meant I’d be staying here longer than expected. I didn’t mind. There was something about the routine of the farm that grounded me, gave me a sense of purpose. Even with the back-breaking work and Reece’s constant irritation, it felt better than the chaos that had followed me so far.

Days turned into spans, and before I knew it, a month had passed at the farm. The rhythm of life settled around me like a familiar tune—sunrise and sunset, fields and harvests, work and sweat. Time flowed so steadily that it almost felt like the past was a distant, forgotten dream.