Chapter 5 – The Gift of Potatoes
The villagers whispered nervously, exchanging looks as they tried to understand what the strange boy was talking about.
Finally, one of them stepped forward, scratching his head.
"Sorry but… what is 'potatoes'?"
At once, every villager turned their eyes to Ashton, waiting for an explanation.
Ashton froze for a moment, then scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
Right… these people don't know many things we consider normal. This is going to be harder than I thought.
He looked around, searching for a place where he could stand above the crowd.
Spotting a large stone nearby, Ashton walked over and climbed onto it.
The villagers slowly gathered closer, some sitting on the ground, others clutching their children, their thin faces turned toward him in expectation.
Taking a deep breath, Ashton raised the potato in his hand and began to speak.
"Potatoes are food.
Not just any food—they are one of the most important crops in the world."
The villagers tilted their heads in confusion. Murmurs spread.
"Food? From that ugly thing?"
"It looks like a lump of dirt…"
"Could he be lying?"
Ashton ignored their doubts and pressed on. "Potatoes grow underground, attached to the roots of their plant.
When you plant one, it can give birth to many more.
They can be cooked in many ways—boiled, roasted, mashed—and no matter how you prepare them, they will fill your stomach and give you strength."
He held the potato higher, letting the sunlight strike it. "Instead of wasting your lives bowing to the gods, instead of praying for miracles that never come—you should start farming these.
This crop belongs to you. Humans. Not gods."
A silence fell over the crowd.
Some villagers stared at the potato as if it were a jewel. Others narrowed their eyes, unconvinced.
Ashton leapt down from the stone and approached the elder, bowing his head respectfully.
"Please," Ashton said, his voice softer now. "Let me help you with this. I know how to grow potatoes.
I know how to care for them. If you let me, I can teach you."
The elder blinked, taken aback by the boy's intensity. He rubbed his tired eyes.
Why is his gaze so bright? So full of fire?
After a long pause, the elder finally sighed. "Very well… If this is truly as you say, then we will accept your help." He hesitated, then asked, "Ah… forgive me.
I never even asked your name."
Ashton looked up with a small smile. "My name is Ashton. Please, just call me that."
The elder nodded slowly. "Then Ashton… we entrust this to you. Please help us find food."
Ashton straightened, his crimson eyes shining. "Gladly," he said, smiling with quiet determination.
The villagers began whispering again, but this time their voices carried a different tone.
Not just fear, but a spark of excitement. A few even smiled faintly, as if daring to believe.
For the first time, in this poor and broken village, the people felt something new.
Hope.
Hello readers after reading please post a message and thoughts so I can know what to change