Chapter 1
The rain finally ceased to pour that summer day, leaving a heavy, warm air about the fields near Newhaven. It was no bother for the morning glories, now slick with fresh rainwater and dew. It was here that Rebecca lay, her eyelids closed and still as she toyed with a flower in her palm. It was a welcome pastime, a short break from preparing for the final harvest of the year. The last lingering rays of sunshine would soon leave again, paving the way for a particularly cold winter, just as her grandmother had predicted. Her grandfather had fretted incessantly over the crops that morning, and her muscles now groaned as she finally rose from the grass, dusting off some sticks and dirt from her white camisole.
She walked gingerly through the fields leading up to the house, arriving back just as nightfall arrived. It was a small house, repurposed from a Victorian cottage. No one had the capital for large modern homes anymore anyway. It was a strange contrast, that is, between the moss-eaten walls of the home and the highly advanced farm equipment the Republic’s government provided all farmers. Rebecca stepped into the kitchen, where her grandmother stood before a large pot of soup. The smell of roasting carrots and potatoes made Rebecca hurry to wash her hands and sit eagerly at the table.
“Are the morning glories fully bloomed yet dear?” Rebecca’s grandmother asked as she set three heaping bowls of soup on the table. Becca ripped into a portion of sourdough and nodded.
“Thats nice to hear, you know Republic folk love them during the solstice, they nearly took all of them last season. I thought they would go extinct in this area.” Her grandmother was a flower fanatic. The house always smelled of sweet pollen.
“They didn’t even pick them right. They must’ve died the moment they stuck them in vases.” Rebecca said, scoffing as she leaned back in her chair. Her grandmother nodded in silence. Just then her grandfather walked in, his long black cane thumping with his every step. Amid coughs and groans, he sat down and began to eat.
“Rebecca said the morning glories have finally bloomed.”
“Have they?” He said stoutly.
“Yeah, the Republic hasn’t snubbed them out yet.” Her grandfather whipped her head to face her as she spoke.
“Keep your sly tongue to yourself. I don’t wanna hear it. We have everything we need, so keep quiet and eat.”
Rebecca sighed and pushed her food away.
“We should’ve done something. They can’t just take them all like that. This is our land anyways.” Her grandfather slapped a hand down on the table.
“I said to shut your trap! I put food on this table and I expect you to eat it without whining about some flowers.” Rebecca looked away as her grandmother gave him a sharp glance. His temper had recenly flared up, but today he seemed especially angry. Rebecca thanked her grandmother and went upstairs to her room. After hours of hard labor, every night felt the same.
It was the next Sunday evening, and Rebecca was back in the flower fields. There was a different feeling in the air today, as if winter was finally crawling its way into Newhaven. From the small hill, Rebecca could see small cottages scattered all across the land. Many glowed with a warm orange light from their chimneys as the colder days began to set in. Only a handful of devoted families lived in Newhaven, and she could recall every one by name. Something suddenly stirred in the bushes beyond the tree line. Rebecca instinctively got up, clutching the grass beneath her palms as she stared into the forest. A familiar face smiled back at her.
“Cassian, you scared me!” Rebecca yelped as she fell back into the grove and laughed.
“You know I’m the only thing nearby, besides the deer.” He said as he slid beside her and threw a small metal sphere at her side.
“Whats this?”
“Click on the side and see.” Cassian said as he began plucking the feathers of a small owl.
Rebecca moved her fingers to the side of the sphere and felt the texture of a small button. As she clicked it, the sphere opened up, displaying a glitchy interface that seemed to focus on the flower at Rebecca’s feet. She laughed in surprise.
“What does it do?” As she spoke, a name popped up on the screen. 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘺: 𝘚𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.
“No way. It identifies it?” Cassian nodded, gleaming.
“It could be worth something to the Republic now that I finally got the interface right. This could get us to Constantine, Rebecca.” Rebecca smiled slightly, looking to the side as she fiddled with the gadget. Constantine, the elusive capitol of their nation Avalon. Only the wealthiest lived there.
“Yeah, I’m sure it could be worth alot.” Doubt creeped at the edge of her voice.
“You don’t think its worth much, do you?” There was no offense in Cassian’s voice. Rebecca smiled and put the identifier back in his palm.
“Of course I do. But I don’t want Republic to get its hands on it. You know how that usually ends.” With those words, now Cassian looked hurt.
“You know how much the Republic does for us. For everyone. Don’t be so harsh, Becca.” But Rebecca only smiled in response, staring up and toying with a dandelion. The two moons of Avalon were nearing equilibrium in the sky, inching towards two colorful sunsets on both sides of the wide sky. Cassian continued defeathering the owl, each released feather making a hollow sound that made Rebecca uncomfortable. As unpalatable as they were, owls were the only wild animals in the Newhaven area, and made for stews more nutrious than plants alone. Cassion finally finished and wrapped the owl in cloth before placing it in his bag. His father would probably use it for soup the next morning.
“I should probably get going. You know how my grandpa gets.”
“Let me walk you back.” Cassian said, getting up and lending Rebecca a hand.
They trudged back to Rebeccas home in silence. The exchaustion of the day was finally starting to set in. As the two moons came to an equilibrium in the sky, Rebecca looked back at the flower forest they were leaving behind. At the edge of the field, the morning glories were beginning to wilt.
