The village of Eldermere lay nestled between rolling green hills, its fields golden under the touch of the morning sun. The scent of earth and ripening wheat filled the air, mingling with the distant laughter of farmers hard at work. Here, where time moved as slow as the wind through the barley, lived a girl who dared to dream beyond the soil beneath her feet.
Violet Evermere was no stranger to hard work. From dawn till dusk, her hands danced over the earth, planting, tending, harvesting. But unlike others in her village, her heart longed for more than the certainty of seasons and the rhythm of rural life. She wanted to build something greater—something lasting.
By candlelight, she devoured books left behind by traveling merchants—books of trade, economics, and the art of business. She traced the inked words with calloused fingers, whispering their wisdom to herself like a sacred prayer. While her father, Henry, believed the land was the only truth worth knowing, Violet saw wealth in knowledge just as she did in crops.
"One day," she would murmur to herself, gazing at the horizon beyond the wheat fields, "I'll carve my own path."
But dreams, no matter how bright, were often clouded by reality.
That year, a swarm of relentless pests descended upon Eldermere, their tiny wings carrying destruction across the fields. What should have been a season of prosperity became a time of despair. The crops failed, the barns emptied, and for the first time, fear settled in their bones like an unshakable chill.
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At night, she overheard her parents whispering in worried tones.
"If this continues, we won’t last another winter," her mother, Martha, said softly, fingers tightening around the frayed edges of her apron.
"We’ll manage," her father responded, but his voice held the weight of a man unsure.
Violet clenched her fists. She refused to accept this fate. If the land had failed them, then she would find another way to fight back.
And so, with nothing but her determination and a few spare coins, Violet sought the advice of the only person she knew who understood the world beyond Eldermere—the wandering merchant, Madame Gretel.
The old woman greeted her with a knowing smile, her silver braid glinting under the lantern light.
"You have the eyes of a girl who refuses to wither," she mused, examining Violet with interest.
Violet hesitated, then nodded. "Tell me how to turn what we have into something more."
Madame Gretel chuckled, pulling out a small, worn book from her satchel. "Trade is like the seasons, child. It’s all about knowing how to make the most of what you have—when the soil turns barren, you must seek another harvest."
And with those words, Violet’s journey began.
She would not let her family starve. She would not let her dreams die in the dirt.
The world had tested her, and now—she would fight back.
To be Continue...