Light slanted through the windows and pranced on Abbigail's face. It was a dazzlingly bright morning and she'd rather stay in bed. But no, another boring harvesting day loomed before her. Putting on her farming suit, Abbigail walked outside. Sam trotted up with her sickle and they went to work.
All day long, she slashed through the wheat and bundled them into bales. Finally, after hauling all the crop to one pile, she sat on top to rest. But the most boresome yet intensive job is next. She replanted every patch with seeds.
The day was near its end, and the sun low in the sky. Abbigail sat on the fence and looked down the road. Her eyes followed the path, between the trees and above the gravel. She wondered, if she could ever leave this farm and be free. She longed to be, and knew she is, more than "just a farmer."
A horse clip-clopped up to the small gate. "Woof! Woof!" Sam ran to intercept the intruder. Mr. Finch came out of the house and greeted the rider. It was a soldier from Oakendale.
"Excuse me, sir." He addressed the old man. "We're on the lookout for two thieves, last reported heading this way." He wore clean iron armor and carried a sword at his side. The horse, like the person it bore, wore armor. It covered the steed from tail to head, leaving only holes for the eyes, mouth, and nostrils. Their suits gleamed in the orange sunset.
"Haven't seen no one in these parts but yourself." Mr. Finch replied. "What did they steal?"
"A relic from Etherea: the Dragon Stone," A trace of recognition flashed across the old face, but he hid it. "One of the few remaining in all of Ardonia."
Abbigail, overhearing their conversation, rushed to Mr. Finch's room to grab the dragon egg. They are not going to take the stone away, are they?
"Ooh," Mr. Finch faked, "sounds valuable." He returned into the gate. "Well it's been all quiet here, as usual. I'll be sure to let you know if I see anything." The soldier left.
Abbigail barged into Mr. Finch's room. She picked up the Stone by his bed. She would not let anyone take it away from her. Just then, Mr. Finch's voice sounded behind her.
"Abbigail! What are you doing?" He slammed the door shut.
"They were coming for the Stone." Abbigail cried.
"I know. What, you think I would hand it over like that? I can sell it for a lot more than what they'll offer." He chuckled. That will set them up for months. "Now hand me the stone." He stretched out his hands.
Abbigail was reluctant. She had found the stone, not him. How could he just take it?
"Abbigail…" Mr. Finch half scolded, half pleaded.
Grudgingly, Abbigail held out the stone. She trusted this old man, but something about this whole matter wasn't right.
Just when the stone was about to leave Abbigail's hands, it bolted to life. Abbigail could feel the Stone give a huge jolt. It leapt out of their hands. "Thump!"
"Abbigail!" Mr. Finch scolded. "Careful with that! Everything was fine until you came in here and messed with it. It was through reckless actions like this that your parents got themselves killed!"
The mention of her parents struck Abbigail. Mr. Finch had never told her exactly how her parents died, he only revealed as much as what he had told her. Reckless individuals who got in trouble. What kind of trouble, he never mentioned. It was as if he was holding a knife over her head. She ran to her room, kicking the door in. She was so young when it happened. All she could remember was a man with a tattoo on his arm, cutting her parents down while she watched from the window.
Inside her room, Abbigail paced back and forth. Was she going to live her life like this? Forever under the control of that old grouch? Or, she looked out the window beyond the fields and down the paths between the trees, was there another life waiting out there?
Abbigail flopped face down on her bed. It was a tiring day, and she couldn't care less about what Mr. Finch did anymore. Sam ran over and muzzled her hand. Whatever happened, she knew that she had his company. As she rubbed her dog's soft fur, Abbigail drifted off to sleep.
In Mr. Finch's room, the Dragon Stone glowed purple, and a deep rumble sounded from within. Purple particles emitted from its surface, shrouding the black Stone in a mist of mystery.
Abbigail woke up, but it was not the wooden ceiling that greeted her. She found herself in a giant hall, standing on a stone bridge. On the sides stood tall, black creatures with purple eyes and arms and legs as long as she is tall. The bridge seemed to float on the below, leading up to a flight of stairs. On top, sat an ancient stone throne. All was quiet.
Gingerly, Abbigail stepped forth. "Snap!" Something broke at her feet. She looked to find that it was a white skull. She looked down the bridge again. The surface was littered with white skulls. She eased forward, taking care not to disturb the remains. A purple crown rested on the throne. It was glowing with a violet hue. Abbigail dared not reach for it, for the king, or queen, might come to claim it.
Suddenly, blades pierced the overlooking black creatures from behind. They gave an unearthly painful scream and vanished into thin air. She felt a scorching light from behind and turned. A man, his skin a dark rock color dotted with lava-orange spots, was approaching with his lava-orange sword drawn. He dragged the blade on the rock, sending sparks flying. His eyes had no pupils, but shone with a fiery glow, filled with bloodlust. Behind him, white balloon-like monsters, black skeletons and three-headed flying carcasses, fanned out, as if following their leader.
Abbigail stepped back. It was the demon from far below. Frantically she looked for a leg bone on the ground that might suffice as a sword, but she tripped. She fell, over the edge and into the void. She dropped, down, down, into the abyss.
Abbigail sat up in her bed, panting. Sam threw her a questioning look from the carpet. She had broken out a huge sweat, which clung to her skin and clothes.
"Now listen here, you thieves!" Mr. Finch's voice came from outside. Abbigail quickly dressed to listen. "I'm going to report you straight to the Etherea Guard and they're going to hunt you down and…Umph!"
Abbigail rushed outside, grabbing her sword from beside the door. Mr. Finch was lying on the ground, hit by a man in all black. The men taking the relic were, of course, Jalkar and Grim. The former was holding the Dragon Stone. He had clearly elbowed Mr. Finch mid-sentence. "Oh shut it you old goat!" Jalkar shouted.
They turned to leave with the Stone, but found Abbigail in their way. She lifted her stone sword and pointed at the two thieves.
Jalkar snickered. "Go back inside, girl." Mockery filled his voice as he pointed towards the house like it's a pig's den. "There's no need to hurt yourself with that toy."
Abbigail stood her ground. "Put. The. Stone. Down. And leave." She demanded, word for word. Something about this man's tattoos seemed familiar to her. She thought the same tattoo was there when her parents died.
Jalkar's expression changed, from amusement to anger, or was it impatience? Abbigail couldn't tell. He handed the stone to Grim. "Try not to lose it again." The other grunted with a roll of his eyes.
Jalkar whisked his knife from his belt and twirled it in his hands. Finally, he let it come to rest with the tip pointing at Abbigail. "I'm going to give you one last chance girl." He said as he stepped into Abbigail's clearing.
For a moment, the two circled each other. Jalkar twirled his knife, flexed his wrist, and looked at Abbigail like she's a helpless little kitten he's playing with. She, on the other hand, just clenched her sword tightly with both her hands.
Suddenly, Abbigail leapt forward, and brought the sword upon Jalkar's head, who blocked it easily with his knife. Just as Abbigail was about to pull her weapon back, Jalkar kicked her in the chest, sending her flying backwards into the dirt. Abbigail landed face down. Her sword fell beside her hand.
Jalkar smirked. What was she thinking, fighting him? He tossed his blade in the air, spun around, caught it with his left hand, twirled it up into the air, caught it, Qand turned to face the farmer on the ground.
Abbigail picked up her sword and set her face. She will get that Stone back no matter what it takes. She charged. This time, she improved her moves. Instead of bring it head on, she faked a swing from the left and stabbed at the right. Jalkar didn't need to guess which was real. He blocked both attacks easily. Now it's his turn. He did a roll in mid-air, kicking Abbigail on the cheek and knocking her down.
Jalkar spun his knife again. Amateur. The smirk grew wider on his face. She thinks she's competent with a hoe that she could just walk into battle?
Spitting out a mouthful of grass and dirt, Abbigail climbed up. She turned to see Jalkar in the air. Flipping forward, she was back on her feet and spun on the spot to meet Jalkar's knife head-on with her sword. The clash of metal against stone rang through the forest. Jalkar's smirk disappeared. This girl, had a going with swords.
The two held for a few seconds. Abbigail was gaining confidence. It looks like her parents had left her their "reckless" blood. Whatever Mr. Finch says, now it is her fight.
Abbigail thrust her sword forward, breaking the truce. Jalkar lurched backwards, a bit lost at what to do. Abbigail advanced, and delivered her sword's sharp point to the man's left. Jalkar retreated. Abbigail then swung her sword from bottom up, making Jalkar summersault to avoid being hit. In the air, he recollected himself. When he landed, Abbigail jabbed her sword to his left. Jalkar led her forward, and grabbed her wrist. She could smell the reek of dirty men coming off him.
"Not bad kid." He commented as he held Abbigail's hand high by the wrist. "But I don't have time for this." He punched Abbigail square in the face. She barely had time to wonder why he didn't stab her before all went black.
Abbigail woke up a third time. This time, she was in her bed. "I was about to send for a doctor." Mr. Finch's croaky voice came from beside her. He had carried her in. "You've been out all day."
Abbigail sat up. She felt her nose, which still had a bit of dry blood. She started dressing, but staggered a bit as her head went dizzy. Mr. Finch supported her by the arm. "Easy there Abbigail, you're in no condition to be moving about just yet." He tried to put Abbigail back onto her bed when she broke free.
Abbigail shook him loose, grabbed her bow, arrows, and sword and dashed out onto the porch, followed closely by Sam. The afternoon sunlight welcomed her into the world. She felt reborn. All her life, she had been a farmer. But last night, she had found her warrior blood, descended from her parents.
"The Dragon Stone?" She asked.
"Those thieves made off with it." Mr. Finch answered. "Don't let it trouble you, this is what happens when we meddle with affairs that don't concern us. We're just farmers after all."
There it is again, "Just a farmer." She was never "Just a farmer!"
"No." Replied Abbigail firmly.
Mr. Finch was taken aback. "What did you just say?!" He demanded.
"I'm not just a farmer!" Abbigail shouted, her blood surging into her limbs. The dizziness was all gone. "I'm going after that stone. If we try to alert Oakendale it will be too late, but Sam and I can track them while their trail is fresh."
She pulled out her sword where it had fallen last night and grabbed her quiver.
"Abbigail, I forbid you to do this!" Mr. Finch called after her.
"I know you do, and I'm sorry." Abbigail replied as she strapped her weapons on.
"Abbigail, wait. There's something I have to tell you." Mr. Finch said. Abbigail stopped filling her quiver with arrows, and turned around.
"That man," said Mr. Finch, pointing into the woods, "was part of the Unyielding Legion. I knew that tattoo too well." He paused and straightened his back. Abbigail turned around. "Your parents, were mercenaries there, Abbigail. After they met each other, they had you, and came to my farm." He approached Abbigail, placing a hand on her shoulder. "She was my beloved niece." Tears rolled down the old man's eyes. "By their last request, I kept you safe." Mr. Finch laid his hand on Abbigail's shoulder. "Do not repeat the same mistakes your parents did. Do not go after that man. Abbigail." Mr. Finch lowered his eyes to her level. His blue eyes stared into hers, imploring her to stay. "Do. Not. Go. After. Him." Mr. Finch said, stressing each word.
Abbigail nodded. "All the reason for me to leave." Now she has a name to blame for her parent's death. She turned towards the woods. "Come on Sam!" She called, and they charged down the trail.
"Abbigail!" Yelled Mr. Finch after her.