NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1: A Day in the Countryside
Chapter 1: A Day in the Countryside
The sun rose over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and orange as I woke to the sound of birds singing. It was a sunny day, and as I looked out the window of our humble cabin, the countryside stretched out before me, gently touched by a breeze that rustled the leaves of the trees. It was one of those days when life seemed perfect.
I got out of bed and glanced at my wife, Elena, who was still sleeping peacefully, her light brown hair spread across the pillow, reminding me of sun-kissed earth. I loved watching her rest; her relaxed face was a reflection of the peace that reigned in our lives. I made an effort not to make any noise, and after dressing in my simple linen tunic, I headed downstairs to the kitchen.
The house, built with my own hands from wooden logs and adorned with natural elements, smelled of freshly baked bread. I prepared some hot oatmeal, and as I savored it, my thoughts wandered to our children.
Clara, our five-year-old daughter, had an endless enthusiasm for exploring the nearby forest, while Lucas, our three-year-old son, always tried to imitate her, following her with an admiring gaze. I loved seeing how their curiosity lit up their faces.
She, unfortunately, inherited my looks instead of her mother’s. Black eyes and hair, which reminded me of the charcoal used for writing in the city.
After breakfast, I stepped outside. The sunlight kissed my skin as I made my way to the barn. The farm stretched out around me: the wheat fields swayed gently in the breeze, and in the distance, animals grazed peacefully in the meadows.
I began my daily chores, feeding the chickens and goats. Thanks to the refinement of my muscles, I could work the land with greater ease, but I was always mindful of my limitations. I was not a man gifted with energy control; I knew I would never progress beyond what I had already achieved. Even so, every small effort contributed to the life we shared. Every drop of sweat was a step toward the future I wanted to build for my family. In my youth, I had served, and thanks to my contributions, I was able to claim this piece of land, which I now call home. All thanks to Heaven's benevolence—the gods know that once, such peace was a mere mirage on water, always at the mercy of destruction.
Suddenly, I heard laughter behind me. Clara and Lucas were running toward the barn, their cheeks flushed with excitement. Clara carried a small wildflower she had found, while Lucas amused himself playing with a little mouse.
“Daddy, look what I found!” Clara shouted, proudly holding up the flower.
“It’s beautiful, sweetheart!” I replied, smiling. “But make sure not to scare that little friend.”
The three of us embarked on a search across the field. We laughed as we collected herbs and flowers, sharing stories about what we found. It was a simple but meaningful moment.
As the golden light of the late afternoon began to soften, casting long shadows across the fields, I decided it was time to continue working on the crops. The gentle warmth of the sun was still pleasant, and I knew there was no better moment to teach my children a few lessons in farming, a skill they would inevitably need as they grew. With Clara and Lucas by my side, we walked to the patch of earth where we would plant carrot seeds. The soil, freshly turned, had a rich, earthy smell that reminded me of the simple life we lived—one tied to the rhythms of the land.
Clara, my eldest, stood beside me with an eager expression on her face, her bright eyes watching my every move with curiosity and enthusiasm. She was always eager to learn, absorbing every lesson as though it was the most important thing in the world. Today was no different. As I knelt down, showing her how to gently press the small, delicate seeds into the soil, her small hands mimicked mine with careful precision. She asked questions with each step, wanting to understand not just the 'how' but the 'why' behind everything. It filled me with pride to see her so engaged, so willing to embrace the life we led. I could already picture her future—perhaps not bound to the fields as I was, but as something more. Maybe one day she would become a skilled seamstress, known for her intricate craftsmanship, her hands not working the soil but instead weaving fine fabrics into beautiful garments.
Meanwhile, Lucas, my youngest, was less focused on the task at hand. His attention wandered as it often did, though it didn't bother me. At his age, it was natural to be more playful, to see the world as a place of endless discovery. Instead of planting seeds, he found amusement in filling his small wooden bucket with dirt, laughing as it spilled over the edges. His giggles were infectious, and I couldn't help but smile. There was a certain freedom in his innocence, an energy that I knew wouldn't last forever but that I cherished while it remained. Though he wasn't particularly interested in the lessons I was teaching today, I dreamed of a future for him too. Perhaps one day, he would grow up strong and brave, joining the city guard to protect our people from any danger that might arise. The thought of him standing tall, with a sense of purpose and responsibility, gave me hope that he would find a path that suited him, even if farming wasn’t in his heart.
As we worked, I couldn’t help but think about the life we were building together. I knew that, in the grand scheme of things, I would never achieve what some might call 'great things.' My days would be spent tilling the earth, planting crops, and tending to my small patch of land, just as my father had before me. But I held onto a quiet dream—that my children would have the chance to reach for something more, something beyond the horizon of our modest life. Perhaps Clara and Lucas would grow to leave this farm one day, chasing opportunities I could only imagine. It wasn't about wealth or fame, but about them finding happiness and purpose, knowing that whatever they chose to do, they could live a life that was meaningful.
As the last of the seeds were planted and the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a deep amber glow, I stood up and wiped the dirt from my hands. I looked at Clara, her hands smudged with soil but her face full of satisfaction, and Lucas, still playing in the dirt, blissfully unaware of the day's work. I knew that this moment, simple as it was, held a kind of quiet significance. It was in these small moments of teaching, of guiding them through the world, that I hoped to give them the tools they needed for whatever future lay ahead.
And though I would never be a man of great renown or fortune, the thought of my children carrying on, each with their own paths and possibilities, made me feel as though I had already achieved more than enough.
The day passed slowly. I sat on the doorstep of the house, a horn of fresh water in hand. My children played in the garden while Elena joined us, smiling and enjoying the moment.
“Would you like to watch the sunset with me?” I asked Elena.
She nodded, and together we watched as the sun disappeared behind the hills, filling the sky with vibrant colors. Sometimes, in those quiet moments, I understood that happiness wasn’t something to be sought after—it was something to be experienced, day by day, in every simple moment we shared on our farm.
As the stars began to peek out in the sky, I felt grateful. I needed nothing more; this day in the countryside, filled with love and peace, was all I had ever wanted.