“So,” Mister Billers said. “You’re referring her for a job?”

General Forge was speaking to his current employer, a middle-aged entrepreneur with a striking mustache, monocle, and a bowler hat.

Billers adjusted said monocle as he squinted his eyes to peer at Sollar.

“She’s my cousin,” General Forge lied, patting Sollar on the back. “Sollar’s a bit of a simpleton, but she’s a hard worker. I can vouch for that.”

Mister Billers looked from General Forge, to Sollar, back to General Forge. He seemed to be trying to figure something out.

“Admittedly, I don’t see the resemblance,” Mister Billers said. General Forge gave a short, nervous laugh.

“Well, you surely have a few cousins that look nothing like you. Right?”

Billers nodded. “Fair point. Will her lack of...”

The entrepreneur pointed at his own head, and twirled his finger around. “Will that interrupt with her work?”

“Well, she’s a few crop short of a bushel, you can say. She certainly can’t do any bookkeeping, but Sollar here is strong and especially skilled with a shovel.”

“A shovel, specifically?” Mister Billers asked.

In response, Sollar held her shovel up to face-level. “Yes! I have Shov-ar!”

Mister Billers squinted his eyes, leaning in to get a good look at Sollar’s tool of choice. “My goodness, what kind of shovel is that?”

General Forge blinked. “Pardon?”

“That’s a high-quality shovel there. I ain’t no expert in magic tools but it looks like a pretty damn high-grade one. Where’d a lass like you get that?”

“My brother made it for me!” Sollar exclaimed.

“Your brother? He was a toolsmith? Or a mage of sorts?” Billers asked.

General Forge, meanwhile, was internally panicking. He did not want their cover to be blown right then and there, so he held his hand up to gesture to Sollar that she should probably stop speaking.

“Her brother was... the War,” he said. It wasn’t a lie, but that was hopefully enough to shut down this further path of conversation.

“Oh. Oh!” the entrepreneur exclaimed. “I’m sorry for asking, if it’s a sensitive subject. But I’m now suddenly curious. What’s the purpose of such a fancy-looking shovel?”

“It’s essentially a family heirloom now, you can say,” the General replied. “I’m... not too sure what it does myself. But it’s durable, so you don’t even need to pay for her equipment.”

Mister Billers leaned back on his heels, stroking his chin.

“There’s been a bit too much labor around lately,” Mister Billers started. “But the spring is almost here, and you can never have too much labor when it comes to sowing. Though, my purse strings are stretched as they are already.”

“Sir. Sollar here does need some work, it’s not like there’s much else she can do. A request on my behalf, I will make it up to you.”

Mister Billers closed his eyes and pursed his lips, deep in thought.

“Well, we certainly don’t need intelligent workers, just hard workers,” he said. “And as long as she’s a hard worker, she can have a job.”

“She’s getting the job?”

“Sure. I trust your judgement,” the entrepreneur said. He then smiled. “You’re a smart fella. And don’t worry about ‘making it up to me’, I still haven’t paid you back for the guidance you gave me for hiring Demonfolk. So consider this... ehh, part of a repayment for that.”

General Forge released a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Thanks. It’s greatly appreciated.”

“Not a problem for a good business partner. Shake hands on it.”

Mister Billers held out a hand, which General Forge gripped firmly and shook.

“Just make sure she ain’t a nuisance, that’s all I ask. Oh, and I almost forgot. I told you about that little irrigation ditch I wanted dug in front of the estate. Hadn’t been able to devote any manpower to that lately.”

“Sir? It’ll be a somewhat lengthy project for her to do alone.”

Mister Billers waved off the concerns. “Ah, I’ll give her three days to complete it. You can help her if needed. I’ve been putting it off so I might as well get that out of the way.”

The Demonfolk general nodded. “You won’t be disappointed, sir.”

General Forge then let go of Mister Biller’s hand, then tapped Sollar on the back and gestured for her to follow him.

“Let’s go, Sollar. We’ll be getting started today.”

Sollar nodded, silently following General Forge.

As the two walked, Sollar was looking left and right, at the surrounding sights. The Frontier was very different from how her home further inland looked, so she was doing her best to take in all the sights.

Lines of Demonfolk wearing straw hats were working the land. This particular area was in the outskirts of the village, so buildings were particularly sparse. A few shacks, sheds, and the occasional larger structure made of stone would be seen dotted around the fields of crops. In the distance was the town of Grand Elm, which sat near the bottom of a shallow valley.

Something in the back of Sollar’s mind was urging her to ask a question. The conversation she had just listened to contained a lot of new words. While ones such as ‘heirloom’ and ‘business partner’ were memorable, there was one particular word that was used to describe her that grabbed her attention.

“What’s a ‘simpleton’?” the Demonfolk girl asked, peering at the General.

General Forge stopped walking for a bit. He whispered something, a light curse that could hardly be heard by Sollar, then turned back to look at the girl.

“It’s just another way to describe someone,” he said. “But you’re not allowed to use it. Only people like me can use it.”

Sollar tilted her head. “Only adults can use it?”

He shook his head. “No. Well... I’m not saying you’re not an adult. And the word describes you well, but it doesn’t describe any other person that well.”

“My own word?” she asked. “If it’s my own word, why can’t I use it?”

“Because you’re not allowed to use it. That’s just the way it is.”

Soon, the two reached a four-way intersection in the dirt road. The road continued off into a clearing in the woods, and the intersecting path both went off to the fields in one direction, and to an estate building in the other direction.

General Forge stopped there, and turned around to face Sollar. He then pointed to the ground.

“Lady Sollar, your first job. Mister Billers wants a trench dug.”

Sollar gave him a quizzical look.

“What is a ‘trench’?” the Demonfolk girl asked.

“A trench? Goodness, why didn’t your brother tutor you in vocabulary when he had the chance... A trench is like a hole, except it’s very long. A very long hole, from here in that direction.”

“So... a very long hole.”

“Yes. A very long hole. That goes from here—”

General Forge pointed down to where he was standing.

“All the way there.”

He then pointed to the treeline.

“You understand that?”

Sollar looked at where he was standing, then flickered her eyes over to the treeline.

“I dig a long hole from here... to there.”

She pointed her hands to trace the path of the soon-to-be trench.

“Yes! Yes, exactly. You know what to do, right? Dig a hole from here to there.”

Sollar nodded. She gripped her shovel in both hands in anticipation. “Dig with Shov-ar! From here to there.”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

General Forge smiled. It seemed like she was getting it.

“Alright. Just stay here and get this done while I finish some other tasks and get something to eat. You’ll probably be hungry after all that work.”

“I’m not hungry right now. I just ate a rallien!”

“Ah. I suppose there’d be a few ralliens growing around here, so that’s what you ate on your way here. Either way, I’ll be heading away to manage the others. You stay safe, Lady Sollar.”

Sollar waved goodbye to General Forge as he turned away, then looked at the ground that she was tasked to excavate.

“I’ve dug bigger holes. But not a trench before,” she said.

The Demonfolk girl started to labor in the warm, spring sun by digging the end of her spade into the ground, and then putting her foot on the spade to bring her weight upon the shovel. With little effort, the blade of her enchanted shovel cut into the ground.

The digging process started off easy. The ground was soft with moisture, and it only took a few jabs with her shovel to loosen dirt to shovel out. It stayed that way for quite a bit; Sollar tried her best to break the dirt into large chunks, so she could toss said chunks out instead of having to dig through loose material.

But then, she started to break through difficult things. First came rocks, which took effort to shovel out. They weren’t too much of a problem, however. The ones that were a bit too big weren’t difficult for her to pick up and toss out.

Then came the bigger rocks, which she couldn’t shovel or lift out manually. Attempting either would be time-consuming, considering that the bigger rocks appeared to be buried even further in the ground.

Sollar had an ace for that, though.

Holding Shov-ar in both hands, the Demonfolk girl began to channel her magical energy into the blade, just as her brother trained her how to do it so long ago. She held it in a manner similar to how one would hold it if they were jabbing it at someone: Her dominant hand held the grip at the very end of the shovel, with the other hand along the length of the tool.

The very edge of the blade started glowing. A light orange light began to build up at the very tip of the spade, as if it was getting outlined at the very end. The glow intensified in strength, lighting up the bottom of the trench with its orange ambience.

Once Sollar could feel the spade brimming with magical energy, she jabbed the end of it down at the rock.

Said rock was cut through effortlessly, both halves parting as though they had never been connected in the first place. She continued to hack at the offending rock until it was reduced to the consistency of coarse gravel.

After the particularly violent display, the Demonfolk girl simply shoveled up the loose remnants of the rock and tossed it over her head, out of the trench.

When General Forge returned later, barely a few hours had passed. He had gotten two loaves of bread from the local bakery, along with some cheese and sliced meat.

He placed the plate down on a nearby fence post and admired Sollar’s work. The trench stretched out for a good distance ahead of him, starting right where he said it needed to be dug and ending somewhere in the treeline.

“Lady Sollar! It’s time for lunch!” General Forge exclaimed. “Where are you?”

Not even a full ten seconds after he shouted out did he see Sollar’s form scurrying through the trench towards him. Her arms were stained by the dirt, and there were some smudges across her face where she tried wiping her arms off. The dry soil equally caked her clothing.

“Lady Sollar, that is quite the trench you’ve dug,” the Demonfolk general said. He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her from the trench, Sollar stumbling out at his pull.

“Lunch is ready?” she asked. “I’m hungry.”

“Just wait a sec, I’ve gotta wipe you off,” General Forge said. He pulled a rag that was tied to his shirt and began to wipe Sollar’s face and hands. “I got us something to eat. And a canteen of water for you, too.”

He then handed the plate to Sollar, and grabbed off his own portion. Using a knife he had on hand, he sliced his loaf in half and sandwiched the cheese and meat between the two halves. He did the same with Sollar’s portion, too, and both Demonfolk began to chew on their meals.

Figuring that he should probably examine Sollar’s handiwork while he was eating, General Forge stepped over to examine the trench.

The trench that the Demonfolk girl had dug up was immaculate. It covered the entire length of where General Forge said to go, starting from twenty paces down from the intersection, onwards.

That day, the Demonfolk general learned two new things about Sollar, exhibited through two lessons:

Lesson number one: General Forge forgot to tell her where to stop.

She had dug up the trench, alright. She dug it up all the way from where he pointed her to do it. The road that the trench was meant to bypass, near the four-way intersection, had been cut through entirely by said trench. The trench even went further, going all the way past the treeline until... General Forge couldn’t see how far it went, but Sollar must’ve stopped somewhere. Likely at tree.

Lesson number two: General Forge needed to elaborate to her the exact specific conditions of the job. All the way down to where she should’ve shoveled the excess dirt.

Not only had the Demonfolk girl dug right through the road that was in her way, but she also deposited all the loose topsoil directly on the road that was parallel to the trench.

Sollar watched General Forge intently as he examined her work.

“I did a good job?” she asked, between bites.

In the context of the literal meaning of the orders that were given to her, it technically was a good job.

In the context of what General Forge’s intent for her to do was, no. It was not a good job. Seeing her shimmering eyes, the Demonfolk general almost didn’t have the heart to break it to her that she did an abysmal job at the task.

Almost.

General Forge gave a sigh, keeping his back to the Demonfolk girl.

“Lady Sollar.”

In response, she bounded up to General Forge and pointed to her own handiwork.

“Did I do a good job?” she repeated.

“A good job? Lady Sollar, you did a good job at digging the trench. But...”

He looked towards her.

“You weren’t supposed to also dig through the road. Or pile up all of the dirt on the pathway.”

General Forge took a bite of his sandwich and stepped over to the hump of dirt that was now piled all over the road. He stepped on it to compress a bit into the ground; the dirt was still fresh, so it probably wouldn’t be too difficult to shovel back off the dirt road.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Well... it’s, you’re not... Do you want me to be honest with you, my Lady?”

“Yes. It’s good to be honest. Tell me, Forrar.”

“Are you sure—”

Sollar began to beat on his shoulder with her fist. “Tell me!”

“Gah— Hey, that stings, stop it! Alright, you want the truth. You dug the trench well.”

Sollar smiled. It seemed she was about to say something, but General Forge interrupted her.

“However, you did not do a good job in putting the dirt you’ve dug out of the trench. It’s all over the road... which is what people need to use to walk around.”

Sollar frowned. “I did a bad job?”

“No, you did a good job with digging the trench,” he replied. “But you weren’t supposed to put the dirt on the road. Nor were you supposed to dig through the intersection, either.”

General Forge examined the mess again. The dirt had been deposited rather evenly on the road, so if anything, it looks as though the road had been raised about a finger’s length.

It shouldn’t be too hard to push off.

“Yeah, we need to clean this up before Mister Billers arrives—”

General Forge turned around to look at Sollar, but froze the second he also happened to see Mister Billers next to her.

“Oh! Mister Billers... Uh, when did you arrive?” the Demonfolk General asked.

“Around when you were critiquing her work,” the entrepreneur replied. “Came here to check on you two. Quite a job you’ve done so far.”

He placed both of his hands on his hips and walked forward to admire Sollar’s handiwork.

“Impressively dug,” he said.

General Forge was starting to panic.

“The trench is deeper than I thought you would’ve dug it, but that ain’t a bad thing,” Mister Billers said, peering down the long hole in the ground. “Though, the trench seems to go through the road here.”

He was pointing at the intersection in question, where the trench cut right through the dirt.

“Mister Billers, I can explain...” General Forge said.

“Well, it’s no matter,” Mister Billers said. “I have some spare planks about to build a short footbridge with. And it looks like the trench goes a bit far, but I don’t mind that in particular. Sollar!”

The Demonfolk General couldn’t even get a word in.

Sollar, meanwhile, took the final bite of her sandwich then stepped over. “Yes?”

Mister Billers took hold of one of Sollar’s hands and vigorously shook it with both of his own hands.

“Thanks, lass! Certainly don’t regret hiring you, this was a good job here!”

General Forge closed his eyes and took a deep breath, seeing that the entrepreneur wasn’t getting what he was saying.

“Mister Billers. I need to admit this to you, not to shift blame, but so I can take responsibility,” General Forge replied. “This was not planned. I told Sollar to dig, and I didn’t tell her to stop digging.”

“Well, even if it is a mistake as you said, I certainly am not mad about it,” Mister Billers replied.

“But, well... you were thinking about this all thoroughly, right?”

“I was. And, although I like to believe I am an intelligent man, I have a tendency to... overthink stuff. But this young lass here—”

Mister Billers pointed to Sollar, who was currently using her shovel to cut a few lines through the dirt.

“—As much of a simpleton as she is, people like her have this advantage: They’re not saddled by deep thoughts! While most try to look for a way around the boulder, they’ll simply blast right through it! And blast right through it she has!”

General Forge looked at where Mister Billers was looking at, in confusion. “Boulder? What boulder?”

“You didn’t know? Ah, I probably didn’t tell you, but the main reason I put the project off for so long was because there was a boulder up in that treeline, where I wanted it dug.”

The entrepreneur shrugged. “It would’ve taken a whole day to move for a team of ten, which is a day better spent doing other things. So I didn’t bother. I should’ve told you about it when I first gave the job, but I forgot. Honest mistake, I came back here to warn you two. But it seems that wasn’t a problem.”

General Forge stared down the trench, where the supposed boulder used to be. He could definitely see that further down the trench line, where Sollar had shoveled the dirt out, there appeared to be a pile of gravel mixed in with the dirt.

That had probably been the boulder in question.

“Boulder?” Sollar asked.

“Big rock. Boulders are big rocks,” General Forge replied.

Sollar tapped her lip. “The big rock. I smashed it.”

“Smashed it? Sollar, I don’t think...”

General Forge stopped when he saw Sollar’s displeasure at his retort.

“Fine. You smashed it. But that doesn’t solve the whole issue with Sollar piling all the dirt on the road.”

“That? Oh, it’s a problem for sure, but that problem solves another!” Mister Billers exclaimed. “I was looking to fill the road in, too. The wagon tracks have been cutting pretty deep in the road, which isn’t good when it gets muddy. Thankfully, we have plenty of dirt now.”

General Forge didn’t know how to feel about averting a potential issue with his employer.

“So... Sollar messed up,” he said. “And everything happened to line up where her mess-ups actually somehow worked to your advantage.”

Mister Billers nodded. “Helpful coincidences can happen.”

General Forge, meanwhile, shook his head and placed a hand on his forehead. “But what about all the excess dirt on the road? Surely you don’t need all that much to cover up the wagon tracks.”

“We can have this figured out later,” Mister Billers reassured. “Won’t be too much work. But it’s almost the end of the day, and I’ve got an important announcement for everyone.”

“An announcement?” General Forge asked. “I wasn’t aware of this, sir.”

“Me neither,” the entrepreneur replied. “I learned of it an hour ago. But it’s a good proposition, which I think all the Demonfolk should know!”

General Forge raised an eyebrow. “How good?”

“It’s a very enriching proposition, you might not believe it! Gather up the rest and I’ll tell you all.”