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Guardian's Farm 6
🕑 Added 2024-12-14 13:05:12 +0000 UTCWhen the morning arrived, I had a quick breakfast before I grabbed my plow, ready to start taming the land. “It’s not going to be easy,” I said while I brought the plow to the smoothest section of the ten acres I owned, which barely counted as half an acre.
It wasn’t that the rest of the land was a dud. The land was near a forest, and had sufficient access to underground water. The combination resulted in some high-grade, promising land. Unfortunately, the distance to civilization wasn’t the only problem. The land was untouched and rocky, and even with my physical strength and other advantages, actually turning it into farmland would take a significant amount of time.
Converting the wild land into farmland always took some effort, otherwise the nobles wouldn’t have been distributing it for free.
Half an acre was nowhere enough to sustain me properly, but it was more than enough to set up a vegetable garden with some supporting root vegetables like yam and potatoes. Foraging and hunting should cover the difference, and if I got bored, I could always visit one of the villages to purchase a few sacks of flour to break the monotony.
“Let’s work,” I said even as I pushed the plow deep underground, pushing slowly to overturn the earth, hoping to loosen it enough to allow the roots to breathe. The ground density was the second most important thing to farming, right behind proper watering.
I pushed the plow carefully, afraid of breaking it. Too bad the small one was the only one that I could afford, but without any beasts of burden, buying a bigger one would have been suspicious.
The last thing I needed was for people to realize just how strong I was.
I pushed the plow through the uneven ground, occasionally stopping to deal with rocks or tangled roots, which would have been far more troubling if I couldn’t yank them out of the ground with a stiff pull. Rocks, depending on the size, I either removed, or shattered with a punch or two directly.
Who knew the skillset to contain a mad dragon came useful when cultivating land.
Soon, I fell into a routine. The soil resisted my push, hard and unyielding. Each thrust of the plow sent vibrations up my arms, but I welcomed the physical strain. It was the whole point of my self-exile, to work the land again, to engage in something tangible and honest.
Sweat beaded on my forehead as I followed my newfound rhythm, the steady push and pull of the plow cutting furrows into the earth.
As I worked, some old memories surfaced. The last time I had actually worked a plow: I was fifteen, helping my uncle to work the tiny plot he owned, though it was barely enough, particularly after my growth spurt made me eat more than all my cousins combined.
Looking back, I knew that it was my latent abilities increasing my necessary consumption, but back then, I just assumed that it was gluttony, that had played a role in my decision to leave the farm and become an adventurer.
A risky career, but one that paid extremely well; enough to make me believe that I would never work the land again. “If it wasn’t for that, I would have listened to the wood elves more carefully,” I said ruefully as my mind wandered.
It had been an interesting encounter, though, for a moment, I had trouble remembering exactly how long ago it occurred. “It must have been at least a decade since Garum was still alive,” I muttered, though remembering his old, wrinkly face still sent a stab through my heart. He wasn’t the first member we lost, nor the last one, but it still hurt.
I shook my head, doing my best to focus on the good side of those memories. I remembered Garum working with the wood elves during the winter we camped near them, both teaching and learning their variant of nature magic.
I wished I had paid more attention to them, but at the time, I was far more interested in perfecting my technique, choosing to stay away. Particularly since it felt like every day, Elric had been fighting with the wood elves about something.
After all those times, I still had no idea what they were fighting about. They always used an ancient dialect to fight, keeping the details secret, but the vitriol that Elric had shown was hard to distinguish, which had been enough for me to lose interest in conversing with the wood elves. Anyone that could make my brave and selfless friend that angry wouldn’t be worth my time.
My fingers tightened against the grip of the plow as those thoughts passed through my mind. Years had proved exactly how selfless Elric actually was. Apparently, it was easier to be generous when one had nothing to give.
“Folly of youth,” I muttered while I remembered how disappointed Garum was when our actions strained our cooperation with the wood elves, creating a rift that was impossible to mend, until one day, wood elves disappeared back into their forest. Back then, we were so sure that we were on the right…
It was one of many instances where pride and blind confidence made things far harder than they had to be.
I shook myself off the memory, and focused back on the task at hand. There was no point in rehashing the past where I could change nothing. Instead, I focused on plowing the land. It was almost noon when the first pass had come to an end. If it was previously cultivated land, just one pass would have been enough, but that was not the case.
However, before I broke for lunch, I went to the well, repeatedly drawing water until the whole land had been irrigated, which would let the earth settle. However, just as I finished it, I was met with a surprise. A wolf visited my land. The same young wolf, carrying a fat rabbit in his jaws.
It looked like he was here to pay me back for the bread. I shook my head, amused as it left the rabbit with great reluctance, and started walking away. Though, while I was amused, I was also impressed. The beast was too skinny, showing that he was having trouble hunting, yet he had returned to pay me back.
What a weird little creature.
Seeing that he was able to understand me the previous time, I called from behind. He wouldn’t be the first beast I had communed with, though sentient beasts usually showed more supernatural qualities. “Hey, I can’t finish a whole rabbit on my own. How about you stay here and help me finish?” I asked. The wolf continued to walk away, but only after pausing a bit. Pride, I recognized. “It’ll only get wasted,” I added.
That made him pause and turn. He looked at me, his silent pose enough to read. He was afraid and hesitant, yet too desperate to not risk it. He reminded me of a young me.
I didn’t make any move toward him as I went to take the rabbit, processing it quickly. A leg and some breast for me, the rest for him. “So, do you prefer cooked or uncooked?” I asked.
The surprise was evident in his posture, though whether it was the question that surprised him, or the idea of cooking meat in the first place, I didn’t know. He whimpered.
“I can prepare both ways, and you can see which one you prefer?” I offered.
That earned another lengthy pause, before he nodded. Another interesting detail, showing that not only was he smart enough to understand speech, but also smart enough to copy body language. He was an interesting little beast.
”One cooked rabbit coming up,” I said. I wrapped the meat with thick leaves before burying them under the fire. Since the fire had been going on for half a day, it was a good method.
While the meat cooked, I went back to work on the small plot, doing another pass with the plow, this time a shallow one. And, since it had already been upturned once, it went much easier. I stopped once the meat was cooked. I took a small piece for myself, put the larger piece on the ground, and opened the leaves. “That’s for you,” I said. “But, be careful it’s hot.”
After putting it on the ground, I walked back, giving a wide berth for him to get his food. He approached carefully, tense and confused until he stood in front of the cooked meat, carefully touching it with his paw, then leaned down to smell.
He was still hesitant when he licked, only for his eyes to widen as it attacked the cooked meat, eating it wildly before he looked at the uncooked portion that remained. “I can cook that as well if you want,” I offered. His needy whimper was enough to earn a deep chuckle from me.
I wrapped the remaining pieces into leaves before burying them in the ash, then I went to the well to draw some more water, pouring some on a large plate to put on the ground for him to enjoy.
Then, I sat down under the shadow of a tree to enjoy the cool breeze, taking the break I had earned while drinking some cold water. Even with my abilities, it had been a tough morning, but a promising one.
Maybe living here would actually be as good as I imagined…
Comments
George McKibbin
Seems cute so far. Assuming this won’t be LitRPG?
Notcreepycreeper
Good doggo
Coleman
A hard days work and a new companion. Truly a life worth living.
