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Language:
English
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Published:
2026-02-28
Updated:
2026-02-28
Words:
390
Chapters:
1/?
Comments:
2
Kudos:
1
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9

Village

Summary:

Village life is mundane but peaceful. Nothing happens. Until a new face appears.

Just read the story you'll understand.

Chapter 1: First

Chapter Text

A new sunrise, a new day, but nothing different from the last. I remember little from when I was young. All the days blurred together too easily. A curse shrouded by the veil of the blessing of peace. On one hand, I am grateful for the gift of peace. I know now of what mundane splendour it's shelter provided. But back then, all I knew was peace. All I knew was the quiet days that filled my young life. Sometimes I wish I stuck out more. I rebelled more. So that I could cherish those memories now. But much of what I remember now...are not things I cherish. 

The clearest early memory was a day, sometime in the harvest months. The village's crops were thick and vibrant with growth. They were particularly abundant that year. The rest of the small details were largely overshadowed by the day's events. I vaguely remember where I was. But I can't say for certain. Given my young age, I likely clung to my mothers ankel as she went about her day or followed my father around the forge, watching him while he worked. His fire always fascinated me. Even from a young age, I yearned to work in the forge as my father had. His craftsmanship was sought after three villages over. And sometimes even beyond. He was a very humble man. He never bragged or advertised his wares. Solely relying on word of mouth to spread to other villages.

His soft face is thankfully a memory that I am able to hold close to my heart. Dull green emerald eyes, a warm, toothy grin that always forced his eyes closed. And a strong jawline girt by a traditional chinstrap beard. Many men in the village wore their facial hair like his. A typical symbol of hard working member of a village. Longer, more elaborate facial hair was reserved for elders and scholarly types. 

My father's smile was always a sign of the times, but also a beacon. In hard winters, his smile got noticeably tight, but its warmth still remained. He was adored by most, if not all, of the village. His disposition was contagious. His signature booming laugh or his deep chuckle always brightened the souls of those around him. But no one adored him or idolised me more than me.