The sun was brightly hanging right above the world, as it was the only thing on a cloudless noon sky. The waves of heat were practically visible as the villagers did their best to cool themselves under the shade of large trees or their own homes.
Unfortunately, this world is one without air conditioning, as magic is supreme. Stuck in the Middle Ages, all the villagers could do was fan themselves with straw fans under the shade. They couldn't even go inside as it was hotter there.
Their houses were mostly made from wood and thatch, good for keeping warmth in. So going inside would be counterintuitive.
This small village had fewer than a hundred people. Everyone knows everyone here, so at least they could spend the time talking to each other. The men would talk about the recent political affairs of the kingdom, while the women would gossip about neighborhood stories.
The children were playing all sorts of made-up games with their peers. But there was one thing in common about all these villagers. that they would glance to the west of the village, where everyone's farm was, and sigh.
It was the middle of spring, but their farms were barren, just clumps of dry soil. This was unthinkable in a time like this, where crops should have been at least half-sprouted. The fields should have been painted green with young wheat stalks.
"Alas, this drought might be the worst I've seen in my entire life." said an old man with a grozzled and heavily wrinkled face. He seemed to be in his 70s.
He sat in an old wooden chair under a tree that his own grandfather had planted ages ago. Across from him sat another old man in a wooden chair he had made when young.
"Old friend, even during the worst of droughts, our Two Rivers Town would get by just right. Those rivers would never get exhausted even then. But now, look at them."
The two old men looked over to the left of the fields, where two massive and widely intersecting riverbeds had been completely exposed. All the eye could see was an empty riverbed with nothing but rocks and sediments.
"Not a droplet of water in sight. No rain since last autumn. There wasn't even any snow this winter."
"The entire kingdom and even those other nations surrounding it have become extremely uneasy. This drought is so widespread that it seems like a catastrophe is looming."
"Do you think this could have been caused by those mages-"
Before the old man could continue, his friend cut him off.
"Shhh!" He put a finger on his lip and then looked toward the east of the village.
The other old man looked too. And there it was. A sprawling field of golden wheat glimmering in the sun, swaying beautifully alongside the hot winds. A small patch of light green barley moved hypnotically from side to side.
The young barley wasn't ready to be harvested yet, but it would be soon.
There was even a large batch of green and purple right beyond the wheat fields, even further east. There was a large vineyard growing plump grapes of both sweet and sour varieties.
There were even more fields filled with all sorts of goods.
"Tch. The Blacksun's are lucky to have birthed a son like Rowan." said the old man with spite and envy as look at the two different sides of the village.
The difference was like night and day. Here they were on the brink of collapse, and on the other side was a land of abundance. But they could do nothing about it.
"That young man has more fields than our entire village combined. Though it's only fair. He accomplished great feats in the war a couple of years back. The king himself granted him these lands."
The other old man wasn't as spiteful as he was, understanding that Rowan had gained all this with his own capabilities.
"Plus, it's his own ability to be able to use magic. The only one with such a talent from our village in the last decades. The last one before him went to the mage tower and never once wanted anything to do with his village. At least Rowan came back. "
"Hmph. What's the point in coming back if he isn't going to help his own fellow villagers? He waters his crops by magic and even seems to have some spells to speed up growth."
The old man on his rickety chair was hateful of Rowan, who wouldn't share his magic with them.
"Let him be, old friend. We can't fight him anyway. He's a pretty strong knight as well. He's a magicknight who spent his entire teenage life fighting otherworldly demons to protect our kingdom. "
The kind old man was unaware of what Rowan might have been through on the battlefields, but he knew enough from stories to know it was hellish.
"He owes us nothing, and he also isn't in the best state of mind, you know." he added.
"Oh, right. It's that time of the year. It's been 5 years since his fifth fiancée ran away, right? I can't believe how ungrateful each of those women were."
The conversation quickly spiralled into talk about Rowan's love life, while the man himself was completely unaware.
...
Thunk! Thunk!
A body of lean abs and chest and thick arms that were built to swing a sword was now hacking away at dirt with a hoe. Rowan, with his dark black hair, stood hoeing his fields as a content expression graced his lips. His light brown eyes were filled with pride as he looked at his verdant fields.
Sweat gleamed all over his body as he took the white towel from his neck and wiped himself. This handsome hunk of a man then rolled down his brown pants back to his ankles, as he had them rolled up to his knees before.
"Another field ready to be seeded!" he declared for no one but himself to hear and smiled.
"What should I plant next... " he said to himself while walking back to his own wooden home that had two stories and an attic in the roof. It was a masterpiece of a home that was built with redwood and whitewood logs and sported the perfect farmhouse vibe.
He had planted red roses, white daisies, and lavender everywhere, giving the house some charm and vitality.
Hmm. I'm in the mood for some onion soup today. He thought as he went into the bath. In there was only a massive wooden tub that could fit 5 grown humans at a time.
"Water jet!" Rowan pointed his left index at the bathtub and chanted as a powerful jet of water gushed out.
"Freeze ray!" He called out another spell and pointed with his right index finger as a beam of blue exited.
Both spells were combined in the bathtub as it was filled up in no time with freezing cold water. Rowan smiled as he slowly entered the tub and enjoyed the bliss of a cold bath on a hot day after gruelling farming.
He was in an excellent mood as he had finally finished hoeing another plot, which means he could add another item to his farm. As for what it would be, he wasn't sure yet. Though he did have a couple of ideas about what he wants most.
"Humuhumhumu..." Rowan hummed a tune while splashing his face and hair with water from the tub. He soon exited the tub while humming and then wiped himself with a towel.
He changed into a fresh pair of clothes and headed to the kitchen.
He went up to a massive white cabinet that stood taller than him and was split into two sections. He opened the door to the bottom section. A cool breeze assaulted his lower body as he crouched down and the breeze also covered his face and chest.
"Damn! I love magic. I wouldn't have been able to make a fridge in this backward world if it wasn't for good old magic." Rowan was glad that this world had magic; if it were a normal medieval world and not a fantasy one, he would have cried himself to death.
Rowan took out 4 large sweet onions, some garlic and some butter and put them on his blackstone countertop.
He then went to the upper and lower mahogany kitchen cabinets and took out his cutting board, a green bottle of olive oil his parents bought from the nearby town, and a jar of sugar. The ground salt and pepper were already sitting on the countertop.
Rowan then went up to his custom-made stove made out of solid stone and metal stove tops.
"Fire burst!" he chanted as a light fire was light on the stove top. Rowan placed a black steel pot on top, something he had the king commission as part of a set for him years back. Steel is still very rare and expensive here.
He took the cork off the oil bottle and poured it slowly onto the pan until he thought it was enough. While the oil was heating up, he went back to the fridge and took out a large metal pot.
"I almost forgot about this." Rowan opened the pot lid, and inside was a light beef bone broth that he had made 2 days ago.
He placed it onto a stove top but didn't turn it on. He put the onions on the cutting board and splashed them with a water spell to make it easier to peel. So once the onions were soaked, he skillfully peeled all four of them. He took out his black steel knife he had sharpened yesterday afternoon, and started dicing like a pro.
Of course, he didn't make the cuts of onion too small. They had to be big enough to chew on and enjoy with the bread he made earlier this morning. The texture had to be just right.
While cutting the onions, he noticed that the pan was hot enough, so he quickly added the butter, which he made from milk from his cows, and stirred it around with a metal spatula. The butter was quickly dissolving into the oil on its own.
Rowan quickly got back to and finished dicing his onions and then tossed them into his pot. He took a bit of salt from the jar with a spoon and tossed it into the pot as well.
For the next 40 minutes, he caramelized the onions little by little. He would stir occasionally and even added some sugar halfway through to help with that. Once they had turned golden brown, Rowan tossed in some garlic and stirred around.
In less than 30 seconds, a nice aroma accompanied the steam from the pot.
Snif! Snif!
He took a long whiff of the aroma that came from the sweetness of the onions, mixing with the spice from the garlic. It was such a comforting smell. It smelled like a warm home on a winter day.
Though it was a very hot spring right now, Rowan is an adult and could eat what he wanted, whenever he wanted.
"Should I add some water or wine for deglazing? Hmmm, decisions... decisions." Rowan contemplated.
"Never mind the wine. Those are for my friends." He came to a decision quickly, as all the wine he made from his grapes was for his friends. He and his family do not consume any alcohol.
So he added water with a spell and mixed around the flavor
The final step for his onion stew was to add the beef broth and stir, which was exactly what he did. He also tossed in some pepper. After about 30 minutes, his onion soup was done. He lifted the pot lid and let the fragrance spread throughout the house.
He took a ladle and poured a serving into his bowl. He took some of the bread he had baked this morning and hummed his way to the dining table. As soon as he sat down at his mahogany table, he started salivating.
"Oooh, time to dig in!" Rowan said while grinning like a fool and rubbing his hands greedily.
Unfortunately, as soon as he was about to reach out for his bread-
Whack!
He heard a loud noise behind his head and before he could react, the back of his head started hurting.
No! At least let me have a bite!
That was his last thought before he went unconscious, and he fell forward onto the table.
Bang!
His head rested sideways on the table as he was out cold. Looming behind his now asleep body were 5 figures wearing hooded black robes. The robes hugged their figures tightly, making it obvious that they were women.
Next to each of the hooded women were smaller hooded figures, the size of children. So 5 women and 5 children hovered over Rowan. The woman in the middle held a sheathed long sword, which she had used to knock Rowan out.
"I thought that we were gonna attack at night. That's why we brought these hoods." asked the woman next to the swordswoman.
This woman was holding onto a basket of bread, Rowan's bread.
"Well..." the swordswoman started to think about an excuse. She started to look around until she looked at the child holding her hand.
"You see, the kids are tired after such a long trip. I thought making them wait would be unfair."
"I agree. The kids must be getting hungry. My dear Rowie made such a good meal, it's only fair she gets to try it now." said another of the women.
The swordswoman looked at her with hooded skepticism. "Is that why you're holding the entire pot of onion soup?" she asked.
"Why else?" the woman nodded enthusiastically. The others believed her for a second, only a second.
GRRRR!
The woman's stomach growled in hunger. The woman then embarrassedly lowered her head. The other woman weres sure she was blushing under there.
"Also, when did Rowan become YOUR Rowie. I was clearly with him first." said the swordswoman.
"But you were the one to leave him first."
"You left him too!"
"You crazy witch wanted to kidnap him didn't you!"
"You almost burned down his house!"
"You stole all his wine before you left!"
All it took was one remark for all the women to bicker about the past. All while the children of these women stared at each other in silence and sighed.
They all looked toward the unconscious man their mothers were about to leave them to. The man named Rowan is the father they hadn't seen since birth. What did fate hold for these little humans and their mother?
What did it hold for their father?