Chapter 1 THE COTTAGE
CHAPTER I: THE COTTAGE
The Sun shines. Its light pierces through worn curtains. Metro’s modest lodging cottage.
He gently rouses from a deep slumber, stirring on a straw mattress. The murmuring of neighbors rises outside as a new day in the village square begins. Metro rises, approaches the window, and peers out at the moving crowd — their auras forming a rhythm around the central well. The village hums, but Metro’s mind pulses with questions.
He dresses, straps on his daggers, checks the weight of his gold sac, stretches, and—
—The door pushes open—
VILLAGE SQUARE
The square is alive with morning activity. Farmers guide carts, children chase each other, and the scent of fresh bread drifts from the communal oven. Metro lets the sun warm his face.
The aroma of stew guides him to a food stall. The old woman hands him a bowl and loaf; he pays with a gold coin. She bows gratefully.
Metro walks toward Ana’s cottage. Her garden looks disturbed — trampled herbs, overturned soil. The cottage door creaks open.
ANA’S COTTAGE
Inside, dried herbs and old wood scent the air. Ana sits by the window, silver‑white hair braided with flowers, her pointed ears and bright blue eyes glowing softly.
Ana (soft):
“Come in, you’re in time for some ice porridge.”
Metro smiles.
“Sorry Ama, I’ve eaten. I’m here for the extra bundle. My backpack should be here.”
Ana hands him the woven pack, but her gaze drifts back to the garden.
Ana:
“There’s something going on there. Something bad.”
Metro steps closer.
“What happened?”
Ana grips her cane.
“Tiny prints. They dug up an ice‑burg patch. Scattered petals everywhere.”
Metro:
“We don’t know what it is yet. I’ll visit Paul for wood and help build a fence when I return.”
Ana’s eyes soften with relief.
“A fence would be a blessing. Be careful, dear.”
Metro opens the door.
VILLAGE OUTSKIRTS
He steps into the morning light, surveying the grasslands. His mind lingers on the strange prints.
He whistles sharply — Sally, his black horse, trots up. Metro mounts, and they thunder through the village: market stalls, church bells, smith hammers, cartographer scribbles.
He feeds Sally a magic leaf; her energy surges, aura glowing faintly white.
The cottages thin as they reach the grasslands and streams.
They slow near a stone shack surrounded by wood piles and carvings.
PAUL’S CLEARING
Paul looks up from his workbench.
“Metro! Just the man I hoped to see!”
Metro dismounts.
“Harvest came early. I need wood.”
He hands Paul a leaf pouch. Paul grins, tucking it away.
Metro:
“Ana’s garden has visitors. I’m building a fence.”
Paul hands him an axe.
“I’ve got fresh oak. Take the cart. Load what you need. Bring it back with fruit.”
They share a hearty hug.
Metro:
“Thanks, Paul. I’m meeting Veronica at The Den.”
Paul waves.
“Give Ana my regards.”
Metro loads the logs, Sally pulling the cart with powerful strides.
The journey back shifts from forest scent to village bustle.
THE DEN
The tavern is packed. Metro spots Veronica — long dark hair, green eyes, sunlight catching her features.
He calls out louder than intended.
“Veronica!”
She smiles faintly, amused by the glow from his backpack.
Veronica:
“And what are you doing clattering into my establishment with half the forest?”
Metro:
“Come on, let’s go. I need to ask you something on the way to The Lodge.”
She follows, tapping the glowing pack.
“You got something in there for me?”
VILLAGE SQUARE
They mount Sally together. Veronica’s arms wrap around Metro’s waist; he blushes.
They ride through the bustling market — growers, lenders, gamblers, traders — until the streets widen and the Lodge rises ahead.
Metro halts Sally.
“That’ll be that sack of silver you promised.”
Veronica frowns.
“You’re not coming up?”
Metro:
“I told Ana I’d help build a fence.”
He asks about the trampled garden. Veronica shrugs.
“Could be pests. Could be magic. Haven’t heard anything.”
They lean against the cart, waiting for her contact.
THE LODGE DOORS SWING OPEN
A tall figure steps out — tan skin, ornate red‑purple‑gold robe. Veronica’s father.
His eyes lock on Metro.
Theron (careful, commanding):
“Veronica… are you quite alright? Rumors spread quickly in this cesspool of whispers.”
His gaze snaps to Metro.
“I understand you possess botanical talents. Tell me — what would it take to share your secrets? Property. Gold.”
He gestures dramatically toward Veronica.
“Men with influence need a steady supply of novelties.”
Metro steps back, rattled.
“Sir… I just came for the silver we agreed on.”
He stumbles through an explanation about his group, his work, and Veronica’s help.
Theron studies him, amused.
“Do you have feelings for my daughter?”
Metro flushes.
Theron steps closer.
“Bring your terms. Meet me at the appointed time. I’ll humor your request… if the tree glows like it should.”
Metro reaches into his pack — the bloom is gone.
Theron’s brow arches.
“It seems your folk have already made their first contribution.”
He dismisses the moment.
“Your enthusiasm is noted.”
He turns toward the Lodge—
—The market quiets.
—A flicker.
—Theron’s eyes turn pitch black.
Only Sally sees it.
Theron (low):
“Be prepared. Present the quarter bloom at our next meeting.”
He disappears inside.
Metro stands frozen, weight crushing his shoulders.
He mounts Sally angrily.
“What’s this mean!?”
Veronica sighs.
“It means my father always gets what he wants. He’ll expect that bloom.”
She studies Metro.
“Are you sure you had it? You only gave me the sample.”
Metro reels. The leaf was definitely in his pack.
Without another word, he turns away from the Lodge, guiding Sally back toward the village.
The vibrant market now feels distant.
— END chapter 1
