Welcome readers!
My dear, dear, avid readers!
Been a while, hasn't it?
Almost too much of a while, hm?
I know, but some things here and there came up, and for the next two weeks, I'll probably be able to upload constantly!
From now on, I will try my best to upload one chapter at least weekly, and if not, then I would post two or three, or maybe more!
You get the idea, don't you?
Anyways, I know the library scene has been dragging in for quite long. however keep in mind I'm laying the groundwork for the characters and story, and that the real story will officially start soon.
Hm, what?
Is this Arc 1?
No!
This is not even the first arc yet.
This is called the Pre-introduction of the novel, ARC 0.
ARC 0.
The Introduction is soon to finish by the way, don't worry.
It will end right after the library scene and the real action, plot, all of that will actually be hot and steamed, waiting right there!
Tell me what you think about the novel so far by the way in comments, or on discord.
Please and Thank you!
To another day~
- Author-Nim
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The farmer did not pay heed to the preparations that the villagers had urgently started preparing in a rush, and merely continued sowing the lands, watering it, and managing the livestock, his hands moving in the same movements that had been repeated for hundreds of thousands of times; as if he was merely a wanderer that was in a separate continent.
His younger siblings had not lived for long; for the cold winter had taken two of them with the frost, the summer taking away the water that one very sought until he passed as no more than coarse hay, one dying by drowning; and the last getting murdered, her dry bread that had no taste and no texture other than its hard material, stolen.
Yet he did not cry, did not grief, did not feel regret when he dug the graves of the five.
For he dug a sixth for himself.
The man went on digging up the lands, a testimony for the inward feeling of nihility that overtook him. For every seed he grew, did he recall his sibling that died from the lack of food. For every Celsius of heat he felt as he slept warmly, did he remember the two that died because of the frosting winter
And for every drop of water he drank, he recalled the water that drowned one, and the lack of it that took the life of the other.
For every spoonful of porridge he consumed, his sister's corpse came into view.
Too much of it, and a lack of it; a paradox. How such polar opposites had opposite effects, yet same results.
But his wait did not take long.
A man visited him, the straw hat on his head blocking the sun.
'Farmer, do you not see that the King will visit the village tomorrow? For what foolishness are you committing once more? Do you wish for the King to take your head, and ours along the way? For you are truly heartless'
The farmer paused his actions, wiping the sweat off from his forehead as he stared at the scorching sun, his chest heaving with exhaustion, yet brimming with relentless life.
'Even, do you see the sun lingering in the sky alone?'
The villager who heard the farmer's irrelevant question did not answer immediately, grew impatient yet decided to entertain the farmer's foolishness.
'And what of the sun is it that you speak? For I do not have much time to see to your idiocy.'
The farmer pointed out to the sun with his worn fingertip, bathing in the light that flew from the sun, the scorching heat gently caressing it.
'Do you not see the magnificence of the sun? So high above?"
"Whether we are vile criminals or righteous humans filled with integrity and honesty, the sun forgives us, and bathes us in its immense light. It never tires, never takes a break. The sun that reaches the skies overlooks us. We do not pay the sun, it does. It does not ask repayment.'
He reached his hand out before stopping it in the air, and instead pointed towards the soil he was digging, slightly stepping on it as he rubbed his feet on it, visibly creating a visible hedge.
'And this soil. The soil of what we are made of and what we despise. Do you not realize that everyday the sun bathes the soil with its light and helps our seeds grow into the most fragrant of fruits?'
He patted the ground and grabbed a handful of soil before rubbing it.
'The soil, whether in the light of the moon or sun remains the same no matter what. It does not ask for more, for the sun gives it what it needs. And the sun bathes the soil regardless if it is dark, red, or any other color'
'So for what reason do we prepare for a king? For it is his job to see his vassals, for he is like the sun. And we are like the dirt.'
'You will regret your decision very dearly'
The villager stormed away, and the farmer resumed his work. Yet his peacefulness and tranquility did not stay for long. For the King came the very next day.
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"Can we get to the topic directly? I have a lot to do on my watch... I still need to fully come to understand this world more."
Noel visibly muttered, impatience gnawing at his voice as listened carefully to Elias. Despite knowing that the topic would reach its eminence soon, he had decided to try to get to the heart of the matter rapidly, as to conserve time. The topic was getting quite boring for people like him who had a certain threshold of patience.
"Noel"
"What?"
"Do you know what happened to that farmer?"
Noel paused, as he watched her silently, on cue, waiting for her response. The girl let out a small, childish giggle, her pearl teeth appearing for a fracture of a second as she took in a breath of air.
Noel's internal turmoil increased, his breathing turning slightly hoarse as he noticed something odd about Elias before him.
The colors in her eyes were becoming much more... active. No, violent, than they were at the start.
"He got executed."
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The very next day, trumpets echoed in the small and modest village, a call for the people to prepare for the man that held the countries reins into his own two hands.
Knights roamed the modest plains, trampling on the grass and soil as if they were one, heavy armor clanking as men in red uniforms walked, rapiers in their hands, close helmets upon their heads, a flag displaying a semi-round white crescent with a sword embed in it, the background dark red, with two circles inside represented.
Two men with open golden armor's and vests different from the others walked forward their presence captivating, their red capes fluttering briefly in the air, before settling on the wet earth, not a single spec of dust making contact with it.
The constant marching sound echoed in the area as the two men who looked identical with their similar clothing walking forward, ordering the march in a low voice.
One certain man who had a different attire that was merely black held a trumpet that seemed different than the rest in his hand walked to the side, untying his black hair that was made into a ponytail. He let his hair fall and brush to his shoulders before adjusting his bent fingers correctly in the proper position, his beard neatly trimmed, lips moving slowly.
His glossy black hair blew in the wing, his abysmal dark eyes scanning the crowd of villagers, taking in note of all the small details in schruntizing, analyzing detail.
Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!
Upon completing the tune, he lowered the trumpet from his lips before calling with a loud voice, a firm, absolute voice.
"Stand"
CLANK
The soldiers made path as they stood out with their swords planted in the earth, making way for a man that sat on an ethereal horse. The man galloped lightly with his white horse slowly blowing dust, his short golden hair slightly darkening due to the slight cloudy weather.
His face held no blemish other than a small scar under his ear, but his quiet blue eyes and presence revealed an unsettling intensity as he galloped forward, looking around the village indifferently.
He adjusted his black and golden collar at the silence that enveloped everything as if waiting for his order, the villagers silently observing the King with every ounce of caution they could muster, standing at attention for the words he would speak.
The King had a very well-fitting title that accompanied him everywhere he went that told stories of his nature that was unprecedented.
"Your Majesty, there is no need for you to get off yourself"
One of the two knights with the helmets walked forward, his armor clanking as he walked before the horse, slightly lowering his head in respect to his master. The man did not respond in turn to his plea of respect.
Motioning with his head, a particular soldier sheathed his sword into his scabbard and ran towards the feet of the horse, before dropping to his knees and hands, and kneeling on all fours besides the horse.
Clop
Without hesitation, the emperor unmounted his horse, stepping on the soldier's back as a chair before stepping down to the earth his armor shaking, his weight disheveling the dust for a few moments. Adjusting his clothing, the man scuffled his blond, well-groomed beard, his eyes lingering on the villagers before him.
"Klux"
A deep voice came out of his vocal cords, as if they belonged to an ancient creature, not what a human being should've had.
"Your Majesty Markus. Order and I shall execute."
Kneeling with the sword before him, the individual names Klux spoke, his head lowered to the ground.
"What do you think of this village?"
"Your Majesty"
In response to the question, Klux pounded the left side of his chest using his right fist and rose to his feet, sheathing his sword.
Turning towards the second golden-armored man, the other man walked forward as if he understood, drawing a parchment from a slit in his armor. He took of the thread that tied in closed, approaching the King with a slight tilt of his head in respect, before speaking up.
"Your majesty, this village is known as Barlow village, a village bordering on the edges of the Everal empire. Yet despite its unstrategic location with not much of material and resources to its name and position, it had became the main capital of merchantilism in the country due to its abundandant soil and constant rainy weather that created an ideal environemnt for farming, harvesting, and raising livestock that is distributed across our nation. Although floods are common, dams and other sources to control these issues have been Deployed by the Economic State program after identifying the usefulness of said village"
"This is a brief introduction. According to our sources, it has been identified that the source of 'that' was found to be collaborating with the empire. How should we proceed, Your Majesty Markus, with said matter?"
Nodding his head, Markus did not reply.
He merely walked forward.
As if on cue, the second knight wrapped the parchment back and put it back into the slit, as his unvisible eyes behind the helmet went to where four soldiers stood behind a middle-aged man.
"Please follow us, if you may, your majesty."