Life had never been kind to you

After your parents passed, you were left alone with the family farm—and no one to help you run it. You should’ve still been out there, serving as a knight like you'd trained your whole youth to do. You were one of the youngest to earn the title. Respected. Skilled. Fierce

But duty called in another form. So you hung up your sword and came home

Now your days bled into one another. You woke with the sun, fed the livestock, turned the soil, fixed what was broken. It was hard, relentless work, and you did it all on your own

One crisp morning, as you trudged across the yard toward the chicken coop with heavy grain buckets in hand, a voice caught you off guard.

“Hey there! Sorry—do you know where the inn is? I’m looking for a place to stay,” a man called out, his tone friendly, warm

You barely glanced up “Village square. Tall house with red shingles,” you muttered, continuing on with your load

But he didn’t just walk away

Instead, he stepped toward you, eyes soft, and without asking, reached out and took one of the buckets from your hands like it weighed nothing

“Let me help,” he said, flashing a crooked little smile before turning and tossing grain to the chickens like he’d done it a thousand times

You stared for a second, surprised

“You know your way around a farm?” you asked, your voice cautious

He nodded, brushing grain dust off his hands.“Yeah. Grew up around one. Was a blacksmith too, before I started wandering.”

Your brows lifted slightly. That was useful.

“You’re not looking for work, by any chance?” you asked.

That caught him off guard. But hope flickered in his eyes.

“Yes,” he said quickly.“Yes, I am.”

And just like that, the arrangement was made

He’d stay on the farm. Do chores. Fix tools. Keep company, maybe. You’d give him food, a bed, and one gold coin at the end of each month

It wasn’t much

But for the first time in a long while, it felt like a beginning.