It was in days long past, when the mountains were still young and the rivers broomed with freshly laid stones, that a young farmer went out towards his fields. It was early in that brisk summer morning, as the sun barely has risen above the sharp mountains, the farmer walked along the dark dirt path, down into the valley where barren mountains kissed the green fields of the cold stream that split the area down the middle. The farmer carried upon his bare body his usual yellow wool clothes, with a leather belt decorating his middle, with a bronze hoe over his shoulder. The farmer looked with glee and contempt, since it was only the day prior that he recieved his tool. His father, already old and bound to his bed by the cunning of his own mind, ordered his brother, who is the local the blacksmith, to make the young farmer his own bronze hoe, as a token of his responsibility. As finally the day had come where he would lay down the title of youngling, trodding into the world as a fully adult member of the tribe.

Lexos, as the young farmer was named, marched forth with confidence, whistling a song of joy while walking past the old ash tree, into the valley, towards the fertile green fields where his family's crops grew. When he arrived there, the sun had fully risen to where his full glory was shining bright over the valley. Lexos praised the sun, as he was raised to do, before walking upon his field and bringing his walk to a halt. Neither tree nor mountain were providing cover from the sun in the field, so Lexos pulled out his token napkin, blessed by his elder to provide protection from the heat, binding it over his head. Then, with his sun-armour up, he finally heaved his hoe, bringing it down with a thumb, cracking open the fertile grounds with sharp bronze.

Bit by bit, heave by heave, he went down his field. Hiding the barren field from the sun, with fresh soil facing up now. Last month, he still helped his father harvesting lots fresh spinach. His aunt, Maridora, cooked some absolutely delicious stew with that, using the meat of one of her goats. It is not often that meat is eaten in these lands, as animals are an expensive good, especially in harsh years like these, as the spirits have not been kind upon the lifestock as of late. Many speciment died as the result of a horrid plague that has been sweeping the lands as wildfire, with the animals suffering from infected teeth, from which they die. Lexos' father said that he heard elders speak of a traveler who came to this land bringing bad news about the origins of this plague. He does not believe him, but the rumor goes that a woman in the coastlands had apearantly caught his husband sodomizing a goat, cursing the species in a heartbroken rage.

As the sun makes it's way back to the mountain crests, Lexos finishes his hard work at the fields. He quickly checks his hoe on sharpness, which turned out to be still razor sharp. Forfilled and hungry, he then makes his way back towards the village, up the hill, past the old ash tree and through the braided fence that seperates the wide worlds from the comforts of home. As he barges in, from the comfortable chair before the fire the old tongue of his father speaks a short word about the casualties of life, before his aunt looks over from behind the fireplace, greets Lexos and kisses him on the forehead:

''The Spirits be praised we have a grown man in the house!" She laughed loudly.

"Tell me my nephew! Are you still happy with your hoe?"

"Yes offcourse." Lexos answered.

"It it heavy as it should and cuts deep. Surely it will last me many days in the field aunt Maridora."

Maridora handed Lexos a bread-bowl with a thick soup, as they all started eating. A while later, when the pot was empty and both Lexos, his father and his aunt had eaten, they all went to sleep by the fire.