Fog rolled up from the river and spread across the village. The crisp air did nothing to stop the many figures from floating through it. Their features were obscured through the haze creating the illusion that a horde of phantoms had descended on the streets. The sinister environment was cut with a cheerful atmosphere. Harvest day was here and there was much to do.

So much in fact, that every single resident was up and about, despite the early hour. From the oldest resident hobbling along, bent over their cane...to the youngest being carried by their mother...they were out in force. Eiron took in the picturesque sight while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Blue beams of sunlight slipped through cracks in the fog, creating a dance of light and shadow. Houses, similarly shrouded, faded in and out of view as the crowd passed them by.

Quiet conversation lightened everyone's steps and bright greetings fueled their merry hearts. This was the day their entire lives were built around. The culmination of countless hours of arduous work over the last year. Eiron looked ahead to his parents walking in front of him. His mother's steady strides and stiff posture contrasting with his father's lazier gait, which made the bundle of cloth and tools on his shoulder appear weightless. Eiron felt a warmth settle on his soul, a contentment in knowing it was all over. Of course, there would soon be more work to do. But for a few days, weeks, he could simply relax.

Clouded figures drew near from time to time and faded back into the fog after exchanging familiar nods. There was a rumbling too. Louder than any other day as every cart and wagon rolled down the coble streets. Their clattering rang out, the rapid beat urging steps to hurry. Eiron wanted to run. To dash along the familiar route and start pulling plants from the ground. Also, just to feel that wonderful sensation of hurtling into the wind, gliding across the ground. Even his legs cried out in expectation, aching to be set loose.

He restrained himself, there were too many unseen obstacles. Besides, they would arrive soon enough. Down a slight incline, towards the bridge, the throng walked. They created a temporary eddy there, at the head of the bridge. A slow swirling of feet and wheels turning this way and that. Splitting into smaller cohorts, they separated into four groups. Two crossed over the bridge and diverged ways while the other half did the same on the village side. Farther out they flowed, continuing to split and branch off at each field. Almost imperceptibly, the fog was beginning to burn away. There was no time to waste.

After a bit more walking, Eiron and his family arrived at their field. The moisture glistened on each Sulcar bulb, droplets of condensation rolling down the stout stalks. His father set down his bundle and looked across the rows.

"What a crop we have! I have not been checking to their quality as often, now that you've grown older Eiron. I wish I had done so, for they look healthier than two days ago. Well done lad!"

Eiron couldn't contain his grin, if he had even wanted to. He also scanned the field, proud of the effort he had put in. Both the obvious and his hours of essence experimentation.

"Thank you, Father. I did my best."

"That you did! I 'spect it be about time you earned some coin of your own. When we sell these next year, I'll set aside a share for you."

"But what of the furniture Celum? We don't even have our own cart. How can we afford to waste money? It's not like he'll be spending it anytime soon."

Celum turned away from Veska, disappointment clear on his face. And yet, was that a wink?

"Fair point to be sure. What kind of life would we have without a custom set of chairs an' table?"

"Exactly, we can't live like ruffians forever. It's disgraceful and teaches Eiron to have horrible standards."

"Of course. Can't be a teaching that."

An obvious eye-roll this time, though Celum took care to keep his face towards the river. Eiron also spotted a shadow of something else...disappointment? It was hard to say. It was probably just him squinting against the growing light.

"It's fine. I don't need money." Realizing his mistake, Eiron stumbled over words in an effort to divert suspicion. "I mean...I do need money...since I don't have any. Um...what would I even buy?" He winced at the lackluster finish and held his breath.

"We are a'wasting light with this much talk. Let's get started."

He exhaled, relieved. But his father was right, they should probably get started. It was going to be a long day and he didn't fancy toiling away in the dark. He was quick to correct himself...he didn't want to be working all day and into the night. He'd had enough of that to last him a lifetime. Happily, it had paid off.

Celum undid the bundle causing small shovels and cloth sacks to spill out. He tossed one of each to Eiron, equipped himself similarly, and set to work. As with most things Sulcar related, it was a delicate process. Though there were no weeds to untangle or rocks to move, Eiron had made sure of that, there were still the adjacent plants to consider. First, the dirt around the plant was scrapped back with the metal edge. One negligent slip and the stalk would be sliced through. The roots were nearly as important. No matter how careful they were, some would be sheered off but that was the price of growing Sulcar.

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A much worse challenge was ensuring that the roots of two adjoining plants weren't interlaced. If half the root structure was torn free, that entire stalk and bulb would be ruined. In such cases where they couldn't be separated while in the ground, both plants would be excavated and pulled up together. Then with painstaking focus, the tendrils of roots would have to be untangled by hand.

Once a plant had been completely freed of both ground and neighbor, it was gently slipped inside a sack along with a few others. The plump pouches were then stacked in the shade of the tall trees between fields. It was true, drying them out was the next step in their journey to be sold, but too much heat would cause the Sulcar to rapidly wilt.

It wasn't long before Eiron missed that morning fog. Sweat streamed down his face only to be constantly brushed away before it could drip onto the plants. His back ached but his heart was as light as a feather. Each plant he had harvested was larger than the very biggest from last year. All those hours slaving away were more than worth it. Was there a limit? Now that he was aware of this phenomenon, he could start at the very beginning of next year. Would they reach all the way to his knees? His waist?

Visions of Sulcar stretching taller than his head filled his mind. But that was for the future. There were still hundreds left to pull from the dirt, possibly a few thousand, why had he never bothered to count? The day stretched on as the three of them kneeled in the field. Each hour saw them end up a few feet closer to the river. It also saw fatigue grow at a similar pace.

With a start, Eiron realized he was holding the last plant. It had taken forever while somehow passing in a blur. The sun was touching the opposite horizon now, casting long shadows from tree and human alike. Under those trees, the pile of Sulcar was taller than Eiron could remember it ever being. It did make sense, the larger plants would add up over time, but it was still a sight to behold. He slipped the last one into an already stuffed bag and placed it gently on top of the others. Dusting off his hands, he glanced around. Almost everyone else had finished as well. Here and there, he could spot a few fields with a couple remaining rows, but most of them were completely empty.

Rumbling wheels drew his attention to the worn path nearby. It was their neighbor, Dobbin, pulling an empty cart. He came to a stop at the edge of the field and let it rest in the tall grass. Looking as tired as Eiron felt, Dobbin gave a nod to Celum and turned towards the village. His trudging figure shrunk into the distance while Eiron, and his parents, began loading the cart.

Row upon row of Sulcar sacks were stacked in the back, creating a towering pile. Thankfully the plants didn't weigh much. The sheer quantity was still enough for Celum to groan as he lifted the front of the cart and leaned forward. It crawled forward through the thick grass, the bump onto the road jostling the pile precariously. The topmost sack wavered and then fell off one side. Eiron dashed forward and snatched it up, only the corner grazing the path.

Clutching the rescued crop against his chest, he managed to put one foot in front of the other until they arrived back home. In the storage shed they already had rows of hooks to hang the sacks from, so unloading was a simple process. Swinging from its hook, the last sack marked the end of the harvest, and the entire growing season. Three figures stood there in the doorway, admiring their work.

Words weren't needed. There was a shared contentment that remained unspoken. Celum reached into a sack, pulled out one plant, and handed it to Eiron. Shooing them out, he then closed and barred the shed door before following them into the house.

"Time to see how they turned out."

Stiffly, Celum sat down at the table and gestured for Eiron to place the Sulcar in front of him. Equally as sore, Eiron placed it gently on the rough wood. Celum inspected it closely from the roots to the bulb.

"No blemishes, nary a spot of blight. How about the essence?" His tired face broke into a smile at Eiron's astonished reaction.

"You knew?! Does everyone know about the essence in the bulb? What is it used for?"

"Slow down, Eiron. It's kept a hidden secret for the reasons the Elder has mentioned. But I see you've been testing your new sense. Dangerous but understandable. Let me check the quality afore you drown me in questions."

Celum closed his eyes and reached one hand out over the bulb. For Eiron, the seconds passed in tense expectation. Had he improved them with his experimenting? Could they be sold for even more? Celum frowned and furrowed his brow. Was there something wrong? Had they grown too quickly?

Celum's eyes snapped open.

"This can't be. It's not possible."

Veska half turned from the fireplace where a small flame was starting to flicker.

"What's wrong? Did you pick out a dull plant?"

"No, it was the same as all the others."

"Then what's wrong?"

"There's...nothing."

Veska spun around, tone dangerously sharp.

"Nothing? No essence?"

"Not a drop."

Silence hung in the room. Slowly, two heads turned towards Eiron. Veska asked first.

"What did you do?"

"Me? Noth-nothing!"

But hadn't he done something? The essence had been there the last time he checked. He focused as best he could with the accusatory glances bearing down on him. Reaching out, he felt for the essence. It was there! As strong as he'd ever felt it!

"But it does have essence, a lot of it! I can feel it, I promise! Please check again."

The blood drained from both of the staring faces.

"Veska, you don't think he..."

The glare she fixed on Eiron was worse than any he'd seen before. Those eyes flashed with both anger and fear, each driving a spike into his heart.

"We must go to the Elder...now!"