Get tangled and lost in a book!
You'll get out... eventually.
You'll get out... eventually.
Note: Old stories may not be continued, at least for a period of time
The colors of the evening sky lit up the dark valley where the small city outskirt villages slept and the vast farmland stretched to the horizon. It was a tiny but nice place, where houses were tucked under the rolling hills and endless farmland. Beneath the peace that seemingly cast a layer of mist over the village, was an unrest that stretched throughout the land.
It struck every household in their dreams, and hopefully the worry never got farther than that. Every day passed in fear and desperation. And you know where the unrest started?
With the cows.
Cows were everywhere. Dominating nearly every patch of proper farmland, they ate much of our grass and glared at us menacingly. They had appeared out of nowhere. At first they had seemed docile and peaceful, but one day, when a local farmer had tried to herd a group of the cattle, we figured something out.
Those mysterious cows that roamed our fields? They were violent. Extremely violent. They seemed to have a tendency to kill when bothered, which was quite interesting… but no one cared enough to find out anything else about them (we also valued our lives). In three months, these creatures depleted three farms and entire fields, destroying people’s income as a result.
And now had brought an extremely deadly plague along with them. Some called the cows a curse from the gods, but they were quickly silenced by the other villagers, for fear that the gods would really punish them for the insult.
Thanks to the violent cows, nearly everything in the village, from the grassland crops to the rations, and even the population of our already tiny community, was declining.
The first victims of the plague had been Cressida and Meony Potter. They were well known weavers in the village (then again, everyone knew everyone in our tiny town)...
In less than a year, several villagers ranging from infants no more than 5 months old to elderly Grelda, were all gone thanks to either their own foolishness or the ever deadly plague.
And now my dad was going to be taken, and maybe even my mom as well, if she held off the sweeping depression that seemed to be the cause for the gray hairs on nearly every villager’s head.
Food and rations had been scarce, and a private guard had even been reinforced for the miller’s house due to the angry hordes of starving villagers crowding around for extra grain and fruit.
That is why I was sneaking around a ranch, in other words, downright trespassing. The Kalor ranch was the biggest farmhold in the village. And I was attempting to rob it.
I had a good reason. At least, I’m pretty sure it was. Supporting your family was a good reason, right? And the Kalor ranch was the farthest away from the violent cow population, and no one in their family had the plague yet. So far, the only damage done to them was that one plantation of crops had failed, which is very lucky considering what other people had to go through. I figured they would be fine without the small food I stole.
My sack was already heavy with apples and three eggs meticulously placed in a thick cloth bag. All that was left to do was hit the dairy mill. In that small room, tiny glass bottles of yellow milk piled high among hay and nearly spoiled cheese, in a circular room at the top of Kalor Hill. Nevertheless, I was willing to take anything edible.
The stench of cow droppings and cheese hit my nose as soon as I stepped foot into the dairy mill. I tiptoed cautiously through the maze of hay piles and knelt near a crate full of the aged milk. The darkness hid in every corner, shrouding everything in pitch black.
Hurriedly stashing two bottles into my bag, I began to climb up a nearby ladder towards the creamery loft. The weight of the heavy bag didn’t do well with me climbing the wooden ladder, and every time the splintered holds creaked I moved a little bit faster, hoping that no one would hear me.
“Ummph!” As I collapsed onto the loft, hands sore from clutching the bars of the ladder way too hard, I accidentally let out a big sigh, and immediately slap my hand over my mouth.
But I find it’s drowned out by an even louder sound; the sound of someone who was obviously in deep sleep.
I turned my head to find that on a small three-legged stool slept a sandy haired boy, his shoulders were slumped forward as he was snoring gently.
I tiptoed with about the grace of a one-legged elephant. I stumbled just as gracefully over a loose floorboard, which made a loud creak. I froze, hoping that the sleeping boy wouldn’t see me, if he woke up.
He woke up.
I could hear him get up as I stumbled backwards as quietly as I could. His eyes were wide open on alert. Then, they met mine. “Hey, you!” he hissed. I shot up and grabbed a stick of butter, quickly scrambling down the ladder. I glanced behind me and saw the boy jump right down! He didn’t even use the ladder, and that must’ve been fifteen feet high!
I ran out of the mill and straight into the corn fields. “Stop, boy!” he yelled. I looked behind me, and in that fateful moment... I tripped over a rock. Crashing towards the ground, everything spilled out of my bag.
The thin boy launched himself onto me and held my arms together. “Why would you do this?” I asked, trying to catch my breath. “Why would you help the Kalors?” The boy didn’t seem any more well-off than I was.
The boy stopped for a moment, surprised I would ask such a question. “I have to work for the Kalors,” he answered, with a hint of bitterness in his voice.
Although I was furious that he would turn me in to the common enemy, I understood him completely. He needed money, he needed food. My anger evaporated. Suddenly, a loud voice shouted, “WHAT IN THE BLAZES IS GOING ON?!” The boy seemed to shrink down, but still held on to my arms firmly.
I slowly turned around, looking right into the beefy face of Farmer Kalor.
Kaylee C. (Cow Chron. and TSC)
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