“One day, Bird, I’ll come back in golden armor. Or maybe spider silk robes!”  

“Robes?” asked my baby brother, rolling his head to face me. “I thought robes were for wizards?”  

I grinned at his sweet, plump little face; his golden-brown curls blended in with the soft golden grass of the hillside we were laying on. At four years old, his soft hair had not deepened to the rich dark color the rest of our kin had just yet. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll get way better at magic and become a powerful sorcerer! I got down that fire spell really quick!”  

“That one mama taught you for cooking?” he asked, dubious of my potential.  

“Well, yeah that’s how she uses it. Remember those rats I brought home at the end of spring? The ones that were bigger than you? Took down two of them with that spell! Lady Adelphia says being able to push a spell beyond its intended use could be a sign of real potential.” I gaze up at the sky, seeing dragons and trolls, swords and treasure. The brilliant blue sky held tales of adventure this sleepy little village could hardly imagine.  

The smell of roast meat drifted through the air, and Bird’s stomach rumbled in response.  

“I hope mama is making meat pies.”  

“You ALWAYS hope it’s meat pies.” I did have to admit, mama’s meat pies were pretty great. So was, of course, all her cooking, like a proper Sarrei ought to be able to do.  

Laela, the oldest of the seven of us, called out to come to dinner. Bird shot up; glee spread over his dimpled face and his plump little legs swiftly carried him to the open door of our family home. My five younger siblings all ran as quick as they could, bare feet gliding down the hills surrounding the half-buried home we lived in, and had lived in for the last six generations, at least. While I admired the towering buildings of the capital (some soaring an entire ten stories in the air!), there was something about our traditional Sarrei home being one with the earth that just felt right.  

I trailed behind the little ones, and Laela, satisfied we were all to be found and on our way, hurried back to the kitchen to help mama. She was 28 years of age, and eager to make sure she was ready for her own family. My brow furrowed softly at the thought. Like Laela, I often thought of my future, but children and farm-steading had never appealed to me.  

“Ah, there’s my wild girl! What’s going through that marvelous little mind of yours, eh?” My father’s cheery voice interrupted my train of thought.  

“The usual,” I admitted with a sheepish grin.  

“Thoughts of running away with the Salvian boy again? Say it’s not so, my heart could not take it!” my father cried animatedly, his hands on his heart and an impish grin on whiskered cheeks.  

The “Salvian boy” was a young man two farms down that had tried, horribly unsuccessfully, to court me several years ago. It gave my father endless delight to tease me over the matter ever since.  

I rolled my eyes and laughed at his good-natured joke. “Oh yes, run away a whole half-a-day journey. THAT’S the adventure for me.”  

He snickered at my heavy sarcasm then said, “Alright, go wash up with the others. Your mother’s finally given into Bird and made those meat pies.”  

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

As we all sat around the table, bellies full and plates empty my father glanced at my mother and eldest sister.  

Laela smiled, then stood and called the little ones to help her clear the table. My father stood and gestured for me to follow him to his study towards the back of the burrow.  

“Portia, be a dear and open the window,” said my father as he reclined in his large armchair, a steady stream of smoke billowing from his mouth. I was quite tall for a Sarrei at 5’5”, and was often asked to handle things such as opening windows at the top of the wall, just peering over the grass outside.  

“Ok papa, I know you didn’t ask me over here just to open a window. What did you want to talk about?”  

“Mmm. You always were a bright one. You know, ever since teaching you how to walk I always knew you’d never stop.”  

“Never stop walking? I’d hope so.”  

He chuckled softly. “I’ve always had a fear, ever since you were a tiny thing, younger than our little Bird, that one day you’d run away.”  

“Papa-”  

“Now, let me finish. Your mother and sister have seen the look in your eyes, you grow more restless by the day. It’s clear your heart’s not here in the hills like your sister.”  

My skin flushed and I turned to face out the open window, breathing in the crisp evening air. I heard the seat groan, ever so softly, then shuffling as my father nervously sorted through his things.  

“Oh, my little one, I mean it not as an insult. You are your own person, even if you’re still a child.”  

“I’m 24 years old, I’m hardly a child.” I wince as I hear the childish impertinence rising in my voice.  

“Mmm, maybe by a capitalist's standards, who send their little ones off to work before they even understand who they are, let alone what they should be doing. That’s beside the point. Your mother and sister and I have been talking. And, well, I think you should come with us when we deliver our yearly harvest.”  

I turn and frown at my father. “I always come with you, just like everyone else-”  

My statement was interrupted as I saw my father holding a large traveler’s pack, a thing I had only ever seen in our brief trips up north to sell our seasonal crops.  

“As I said, you should come with us, and, if you’d like, instead of returning home you catch a ship.”  

At a loss for words, I reached for the beautiful bag. The leather was rich and supple, but thick and durable all at once. The craftsmanship shown beautifully in the intricate stitchwork, high-end leather, and silk lining.  

“I bought it when we went to the capital in the spring. It was on a whim, really. I had intended to give it to you for your birthday next year, well, I think it’s time. Ever since you were old enough to really understand the idea of an adventurer your heart has been out, well out there,” he said with a wave of his hand. “There are about 1000 crowns in there. Been saving up for every one of you little ones once you decide to start a family of your own. And, since you’re not really the family having sort, I figured why not let you use your share towards where your heart really is?”  

“Papa, I...” I fumble with what to say, my voice catching in my throat.  

“Your mother supports it too. Though she wanted me to tell you, she was afraid she’d cry and spoil the whole thing. There’s enough in there for you to sail to Iocall and back, plenty of islands there offering all sorts of adventures I hear.”  

Still at a loss for words, I responded by hugging my father tightly, my face flushed as I held back tears.  

“Oh, my little love, just promise me you’ll come back. Your mother will never forgive me and will serve me to Bird in one of those damned meat pies.”  

I chuckled at my father’s request. “I’ll try my best to make it home then.”  

My father cupped my cheeks in his strong, callused hands. “You mean the world to me, to us.”  

“I love you too, Papa.”  

A week later, I had packed and repacked a dozen times. I lay awake, my heart racing. Tomorrow morning, the whole family would load up into the caravan and take the two-day journey to Azurnia, the capital of the entire continent. Bird, bless his tiny little soul, was worried about me being eaten by a dragon on my upcoming adventure, despite my assurance that there were no dragons anywhere near Iocall. Still, with this being our last night together, I agreed to let him sleep in my bed. He had long since fallen asleep, and I gently stroked the silken curls on his head as I dreamed of adventures so close, I could taste them.