Dark Age Year 863
Twenty-eighth day of the Tenth month
“What is a good and virtuous life?” This was the question that Ozias, the farmer, pondered as he tended to his farm, caring for his animals and sowing the seeds that would yield the next season’s harvest. Day in and day out, he toiled from dawn till dusk, working the fields until the sun dipped below the horizon, its rays warming his weathered skin. He fed the animals, occasionally slaughtering some for meat to sell at the village market. It was a simple yet challenging life, made even more difficult by the absence of his family. Whatever war, famine, or pestilence had not taken from him, time had claimed instead.
Not that there was much he could do about it; life on the outskirts, heck, life in Aria was rough overall, from the lowest of the low to the highest of the high. There was no escape from the civil war that ripped through Aria like an uncontrollable and all-consuming fire, destroying all that stood in its path. And if the raging fires of warfare didn’t take you, then starvation and plagues would. While news travelled quite slowly in the outskirt regions of Aria., news would arrive here, either through travellers or the odd tax collector from the local warlord or his replacement. However, the stories they would often tell, if they were given time to tell them, were rather frightening affairs. He had heard stories of entire villages and whole communities being wiped out almost overnight by plague or tales when the harvest went bad and the crops failed, with people resorting to sampling forbidden meats, along with other distasteful things that he wished he didn’t hear and wouldn’t utter in pleasant company for he didn’t want to offend their ears or poison their minds with such utterances. Despite any feelings of bitterness or loneliness that crept into his heart, Ozias remained dedicated to his craft. He was a farmer, following in the footsteps of his father, his father’s father, and the generations before them. He took pride in having his purpose and his village, even though he missed his family and many friends. In most respects, it was good enough, given the circumstances he found himself in. Running the farm by himself was an achievement, albeit a rather humble one. It proved one thing: Ozias had talents beyond what his humble background would imply. The farm was big by the outskirts’ standards, spanning ten acres of uncharacteristically rich farmland with great yields. It was the type of farm that required an entire family and several farmhands to manage, but Ozias was able to handle it all by himself. Often, to the chagrin of many of his Neighbors, who sometimes, when they thought he didn’t notice or wasn’t paying attention, would eye his land with the light of hunger in their eyes.
“Is it truly good enough for me?” This was another question Ozias had to ask himself. Initially, he could often attribute such thoughts to youthful folly. While he was still a teenager who craved action like most young men his age, he was at least honest and wise enough to acknowledge his mistakes. However, as time passed, these questions would gnaw at his mind, as he had no answer for the conflict in his heart. It would remain that way until he met someone. Someone who was very special to him. Well, at the start, she wasn’t anything special, but she soon became that way. But that is putting the cart before the horse, as the saying goes. If Ozias were to fully recount this tale to all those who would listen, including all the circumstances of this fateful encounter, he would say that it all started on that autumn day many years ago. At the time, he thought it was just going to be a normal day. But isn’t that how all these types of tales begin in the first place? Little did he know at the time that this once happy tale would turn into one of tragedy.
It all began when he entered the forest in the late afternoon to gather berries. Although the local forest was not particularly dangerous, he believed it was imprudent to go without any weapons. Equipped with a spear and a dagger, Ozias set out into the forest. The forest displayed a variety of greens, yellows, and browns, with dead leaves crunching beneath his sandals as he navigated through the undergrowth. The smell of dried leaves, and the faint beams of orange light pouring in through the canopy made him feel a sense of peace, a sense of peace that was as fleeting as the changing seasons. Eventually, he reached the grove he sought, a familiar spot with numerous fruit-bearing trees and bushes, including bright pink berries.
“Ah, there they are,” he thought to himself, his dark brown eyes lighting up along with a wide smile illuminating his boyish features. As he walked toward the bush and reached out his hands to pick the berries, he heard a noise behind him. It was the snap of a twig.
“I’m pretty sure I wasn’t followed,” he thought, turning his head in the direction of the sound while keeping his hand on the hilt of his dagger.
“Is someone there?” he called out, hoping it was just one of the villagers or a simple animal that would either announce itself or run away deep into the forest as he called out.
However, what emerged from behind the trees and bushes and into the grove clearing was a woman. She was a pretty woman, appearing to be around his age, perhaps a few years younger, he guessed. She had deep brown eyes, short and curly dark brown hair, and a slim, petite body with a light olive skin tone, giving her a rather cute but delicate appearance. She was also dressed in a fancy robe of deep browns and greens, adorned with several runes and glass vials woven into the fabric. Additionally, she carried what looked like a small straight stick holstered at her side. As she looked up at him. She spoke with a voice that was as charming as her appearance
“I am sorry to have frightened you. I was just passing through, and I didn’t expect to run into anyone here,” the woman said.
“Oh, there is no need to apologize. It’s no issue at all. What are you doing out here? Are you a traveller?” Ozias replied, scratching his face sleepily, almost embarrassed that he was almost spooked by a girl.
“Yes, I am. I just came up from down south.”
“Ah, I see. Well, if you need a place to stay, the village is a few miles that way,” Ozias said, pointing in the direction he came from. “Or if I may be a bit more bold,” he continued, “my farmstead is about half a mile from here. It has plenty of room and space if you’re looking for a place to stay for the night.”
“My, my, my, that is rather bold of you. It’s quite rare that I run into people in my travels who are so hospitable, especially here in the frontiers, to a complete stranger. Are you sure you don’t have any ulterior motives?” A rather cheeky and knowing smile crossed her face.
“Nothing like that at all. Unless you count wanting to be in the presence of a beautiful woman like yourself as an ulterior motive,” Ozias said, rather sheepishly. Although he knew it was foolish to be this kind to a complete stranger. He felt good about this girl, maybe it was just about her looks. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever met, or perhaps deep down he was lonely and wanted some company for once, outside of the few people in the village he still got along with. But whatever the reason, he felt good about this woman.
However, Ozias was surprised by her swift response. With a small smile and a quick bow, she said, “I accept and thank you for your hospitality.”
“Okay, well, just give me a moment to finish harvesting these berries, and then we shall be off,” Ozias said. She nodded quickly and waited patiently while he finished picking the berries. Once he was done, the two of them walked towards his farm, with the sun starting to set on the horizon. Along the way, Ozias asked, “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what is your name?”
“Faustina,” she replied.
“What is your name?” Faustina asked in return.
“Ozais,” he said. “Faustina is quite a wonderful name,” he added with a toothy grin.
“I could say the same for you,” she replied, smiling back at him.
As the two of them finally reached the farmstead, they walked up to Ozias’ house. Ozias opened the door and gestured for her to come inside.
“After you, milady,” he said, holding the door open, waiting for her to enter. As she did, he followed behind her.
Ozias then got the fire going and headed to his kitchen to get some refreshments from his icebox and cupboard for himself and his new guest. Every now and then, he gave a passing glance at Faustina, who was making herself quite comfortable on his couch, stretching her body. Ozias noticed her long legs and prominent collarbones, which made her even more charming to him. Ozias then sat down across from her, putting a wooden plate down on the table in front of her. It wasn’t much, just some cold, clean water, some fresh loaves of bread, and some of the pink berries he had picked this afternoon.
“I know it isn’t much, but here you go,” Ozias said, his voice carrying a hint of disappointment as he slid the plate closer to Faustina.
“Oh no, it’s fine, thank you very much,” she said as she took a piece of bread and poured herself a glass of water. She drank quickly, with droplets of water running down her chin and neck, stopping at her collarbone. The flickering light of the fire emphasized the droplets, giving her olive-colored skin a soft glow.
Ozias was trying not to stare at her, as she did so. As he found himself becoming almost entranced of her beauty. After a few moments of silence, Ozias decided to speak up. “So, what brings you out all this way, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Faustina set her glass down, wiping off the stray drips on her face before speaking. “Escaping the war.” she sighed. “It’s hard to focus on studying when your city is under attack by invading armies.”
“Oh, so you’re from Ammos?” Ozias inquired.
“Yes, I am. Have you ever been there, Ozias?” Faustina turned her attention to him.
“Unfortunately, no, I haven’t visited, but I’ve heard about it from travellers. It seems like a pleasant place to live,” Ozias remarked.
“Yeah, it used to be,” Faustina’s expression shifted into a slight frown as she spoke. Ozias decided it might be best to change the subject to avoid upsetting Faustina further.
“What were you studying?” Ozias asked, curious about Faustina’s academic pursuits.
“I was studying magic. I am a mage, although I guess I am what people in our circles call an alchemist.”
Ozias felt his eye twitch and his body tense up when he realized he was in the presence of a mage. Of course, based on what she was wearing, it was obvious that she was a mage from the get-go. He had often heard tales and stories about the evil deeds of mages. One only had to think about the tales of yore regarding the evil sorcerer kings that once ruled over Aria to understand why one should be wary of magic and its practitioners. However, he didn’t think that Faustina was that type of mage. Perhaps she was one of the good ones, if such a thing exists. Ozias then noticed Faustina looking at him with a slight expression of concern.
“Is that a problem for you?” she asked.
“No no no… not at all, I was just a bit surprised. I have never meet a mage before.”
even though now his gut instinct was telling him not to trust her and the kill if he could. For mages where dangerous, and having this mage in front of him, even inviting her into his home. It was letting in hungry wolfs into his home. However in spite of those feelings that where starting to well up in his chest. He decided against it.
“Okay, that’s good,” Faustina continued. “Not many people, especially out here on the frontier, would be that accepting of people like myself, at least compared to some people in the cities.” After a few moments of awkward silence on Ozias’ part, they would continue to talk well into the night, eventually deciding to retire. The next morning, they exchanged pleasantries until they parted ways. Ozias worked on his farm while Faustina searched for a place to study and master her arcane craft.
What happened next after that first encounter between Ozias the farmer and Faustina the alchemist remains a mystery to all, except perhaps to the two of them. However, what is known is how it all ended. It is highly unlikely that at that moment or in the future, Ozias and Faustina could have predicted or even imagined that the fleeting happiness they found in each other on that fateful day would eventually come crashing down. However, if there was a silver lining to it all, it would be this, if it could be called a silver lining. Ozias, in the end, did find the answer to his question of what is a good and virtuous life, and the conclusion he came to, whether you agree with it or not, was pursuing true love above everything else. To place it above all your obligations, to your family, your community, and to yourself.
