Kaelor walked across the gently ridged fields already tilled and darkened in preparation for wheat sowing. The air carried the earthy scent of upturned soil.
Around him, the sacks of wheat, tightly packed and sun-warmed had already been brought over by a few of the men. Nearby, the women were working diligently, their hands brushing across the soil as they marked rows and prepared tools.
But the moment Kaelor appeared, with Vi walking just behind him, the famed beauty whose name often drifted between lips in whispered gossip, every hand stilled. The rustling ceased. All eyes turned. Silence, sudden and reverent, swept over the field.
Kaelor crouched beside one of the sacks and dipped his fingers into the grains, letting a handful slip slowly between them. The grains fell in a dry, whispery stream back into the sack, but his mind was already elsewhere, calculating and imagining.
