The summer season was approaching rapidly, warming the region steadily. Though the spring season was close to ending, my family's grief was not.

   After that fateful day, everything for me went by in a blur. 

   We buried Erinna further back in the woods in the small clearing near the other brook; Feria chose the spot. After her burial, I naively thought my parents' grief would play out like it had for their unborn child, but as the days passed and their sorrow burdened them more, I finally awoke to the reality of it all.

   This is loss was different than the previous one. No one tried to return to normalcy. No one tried anymore.

   Feria withdrew herself. The first week or so she would remain in our room, staring at the ground. Afterwards, she resumed her tasks again but more weighed down than before, never saying a word. There were times where I messed something up on purpose simply to hear her chide me about it, but nothing was ever uttered forth, she'd merely correct it herself silently. Papa's method of coping was to whittle away in his chair all day, barely touching his meals and hardly ever resting. He would speak, but I wished he wouldn't. His words were coarse and brief, simple brusque responds were all I would receive. No more was I ever spoken to in a gentle, patient voice. There were no stories told at that time, which was fine- I'd rather not hear romanticism tales when he remained in such a mood. Then there was maman.

    Maman took it the worst.

   She was a walking example of a corpse. She had no emotions, no voice, no life within her to react to reality. Her days were spent lying in bed, gazing straight ahead at the wall. Her hair went undone, she took no baths, ate very little to nothing at all for days at a time, she spoke nor uttered nothing to anyone. Oftentimes, though she never responded, Feria would sit on the edge of the bed and stroke her hair out of her face, whispering words so hushed I couldn't make them out even if I was standing close by. That was the only time she would talk, was to maman.

   My grief had strayed away the day after Erinna was buried. I knew I'd have to be brave and take up the daily tasks. There were still dishes to wash, clothes to sew, meals to cook, and my time with Minryn was still important to me. I refrained from going to Minryn's until I could trust Feria to keep house once more and cook lunch for papa and maman. When I could finally return to my lessons it felt a step towards recovering.

   Minryn was shocked to learn what happened to my sister and the hopelessness consuming my household. She was a rock to me in that time and pushed me, unknowingly, to become even stronger. By this point, my knowledge had far outweighed hers and she scrambled to acquire more wisdom on my behalf. While my studies excelled, my home life wilted until all I could feel was dread at the thought of returning to that lifeless house.

   Many worries hung in my mind, but the most prevalent one was the issue of papa's field. Since Erinna's death, papa had only ventured to the field once and had since remained home, whittling away. The other men of the crop field would work papa's field as their consolidation during our time of distress. Some of the women even brought supper over when they found the time, which wasn't often. But papa's grieving period was immense and I knew charity would not last long, especially since there was much recovery needed to contemplate for the hard harvest we had before. The issue kept me up at nights.

   As I laid in bed- which felt too spacious for just me and Feria- I mused everything over in my mind, thinking and reasoning the way I was taught. Even though I didn't check, I knew Feria was still awake, staring up at the ceiling waiting for sleep to take her. I had stopped by the healer's to obtain herbs that would help soothe my family to slumber, but it seemed I was the one in need of rest. It was times like these I wished I could have turned to my sister and talked the situation over with her, but her words were still few and far between, so I faced this issue alone.

   It was alone that I formed my answer to the dilemma. I will admit, it was a daunting decision but one I knew must be done in order to secure our crops and future harvest, so at the cool coming of pre-dawn, I arose.

   I made sure my actions were quiet as I gathered myself together for the day ahead. Feria was sound asleep, never stirring as I slipped out of the room. In the main room, I set aside a small meal to serve as lunch for me that day then nibbled on a few figs and berries for breakfast. By the time I was ready to head out, I noticed her.

   She had been watching me, silently, ever since I walked into the room. She remained mute as I ate and was preparing to leave. The blank stare of her eyes with their dark sags caused my skin to shift. Looking back at her, I stood by the door in my old dress with my hair in its usual braid and lunch in hand. It seemed she never blinked, only stared emptily at me as if I were a fooling wraith. I held her gaze for another minute or so before glancing down at the ground and heading out into the lightening day.
  

I was completely ignorant of the task before me. I knew very little to nothing about working the terrain and mastering a field. My book knowledge was in vain, for I studied very briefly about the matters of planting a crop and caring for a field. This would rely on what I didn't have.

   Even though I rose and left at the time papa would have, I was idle, taking my time to think out what needed to be done for the crops once I got there. Most, if not all, of the men were already there, socializing in small clusters and preparing their tools. Our crop field was on the smaller end so there were only about eight to ten other workers there.

   Becoming reserved, I kept to the treeline, away from the others, taking the time to study what they were doing. I had visited papa before during his work, but I never took notice of what tasks he would be accomplishing or the steps he would take. The men seemed only to be talking amongst themselves for a bit so I crept out closer to them, hoping to catch thought or two from them. I must have stepped too close out of the safety of the forest for I was spotted.

   "Who's there?" Cried one of the men. All the others turned to where I had shrunk back.

    I scolded myself for being suspicious and shrinking away, so I emerged from the treeline into view.

   "It is just me. Aelita."

   Most the men knew me and appeared surprised to see me. I noticed some men brought along their sons to help with the work.

   One man, by the name of Thadarus Runevale, approached me with a concerned expression.

   "Young Aelita, how does your father fare?"

   "He is coping."

   He nods, a deep set frown fixed upon his face.

   "Why are you come here so early in the morning?"

   Looking up at the great man, I stood to the respectable height I was, my voice controlled and steady.

   "I am here to cultivate my father's field. It needs to be kept."

   The men exchanged weary looks between themselves, low murmurs added in. Thadarus did not reply for a moment, but when he did it was with hesitation.

   "To care for his field? All by yourself?"

   "Of course."

   "Has he taught you in the way of tending a field?" Asked another man.

   "No," I kept the confidence in my voice. "But I have studies such things."

   "Studying and applying that knowledge are two very different things." Thadarus murmurs in ponderous.

   "That is true, but better to try than sit by watching another harvest go to waste."

   Though I knew they were still uncertain about my ability to handle such foreign things, I believe they understood my resilience and respected my set decision.

   "It is your father's field," He said heavily. "It is yours to do what you view best."

   "Thank you." I nodded.

   I determined in my mind already that asking for much help, especially with the simple tasks, was something I wouldn't burden the men with. Though we were one shared crop field, we each had families who counted on the harvest and what it brought in, and no one's attention need be distracted by my inability. This was something I would master along the way, my risky trial and error.

   Thadarus clapped his heavy, callous hands together, gathering the men's attention, and spoke out in a resounding, husky voice.

   "All right, no idle hands now. We have fields to tend to."

    With that said, it signaled the end of the pleasant conversions and began the day ahead. Everyone seemed to know what to do and where to go. I watched, even, a young boy about five or six trot along side his father and two older brothers out to their field, while I remained trying to figure where to start.

   Setting my sac aside, I looked around, spotting a large, weather beaten wooden chest off to the side, nestled near the woods where the men seemed to be retrieving tools. Still unsure of what to do, I went over to the chest, peering inside to see what could be of use to me. The names of the tools and their purpose came flooding into my scholarly mind, yet they appeared more foreign than fairies.

   "Your father's seeds have yet to be planted," Thadarus said, coming from behind. "We have leveled the field so the seeds would be ready to be received."

   Looking up at him, I gave a polite, shy nod. "Thank you, sir."

   A understanding nod was his reply. He reached into the chest and came out with a dibber and sackcloth pouch, handing it to me which I accept with gratitude before he walked away.

   It was new, but a challenge that needed tackling. Wasting not another second, I hurried to papa's field. Just from prior knowledge I knew where papa's field was, but for territorial purposes, the land was marked by poles so each farmer knew their limits.

   With dibber and pouch in hand, I surveyed the field. Papa's field laid just little over an acre and the crops needed to be planted so there was much to do.

   A memory from a while ago when I visited papa helped me remember where each crop went. The potatoes would be planted farther back along the northeastern perimeter while the lentils would take the northwestern side, the carrots would occupy the middle ground of the field, and the goodroots- which were scarce that year- would be planted fully along the south. It seemed papa had already begun sowing in the carrots and some of the lentils; that eased some of the accumulating stress.

   Pushing back my hair, I began with finishing the potatoes.

   I knew I was unaccustomed to field work, but I was not prepared for the back-breaking labor that would ensue. Hunched over trying to sow in each seed was tiring. Salty sweat trickled into my eyes, irritating them. My hands were soiled, so it was hard to wipe the sweat from my face when I needed to- I resorted to using my backhand. As the day drew on, the sun began a vicious assault on my back, causing me to take frequent breaks. When I did, I took the time to observe the other, nearby farmers. They remained hard at work, never having to break from their work other than to wipe the sweat from their brows with a dingy cloth.

   Even when I did concentrate on my task, I realized my holes were jagged and not in the neat form they needed to be. Not wanting to create a single mistake, I retraced my steps and corrected each hole until I deemed it acceptable. Just sowing two rows of potatoes took me till late noonday, when I began to notice all the men and boys abandon their fields and cluster where they were in the morning.

   Even as I stood and watched, I couldn't understand the meaning of such a gathering. A young boy scurrying past stopped when I inquired the cause of the meeting.

   "Don't you know?" He wiped his glistening brow. "It's midday meal."

   "Oh. Thank you."

   He continued his hasty pace to the group while I simply watched him retreat, not following behind. Though a break sounded enticing to me, especially for a meal, I knew I had not made enough progress in order to reward myself with one. Picking back up the dibber, I set to the arduous task once more, keeping my rows straight as I could.

   It was as I was working that I wish I had a notebook to scribble down some simple but helpful notes about the field.

   Working monotonously, I did what I practiced best, numbing myself to the feelings and emotions that would result from such a work. I kept my mind devoid of thoughts that would prolong the day.

   By the time the sun was beginning to sail home to the horizon, I had finished my potatoes and was halfway done with the lentils. To me, the progress wasn't good enough, fast enough, perfected enough. The only breaks I took were to wipe the sweat from my forehead and drink some water. I was grateful for the sun's quick disappearance, for the evening brought a cool, refreshing wind to it.

   As I noticed most of the men ending their work, I finished my last row of lentils for the day and began to collect my tools to put away. Never once, until I entered the house, did I noticed my quivering body which shook from tremendous fatigue and being famished. My mind wasn't as sharp as I was used to it being- I felt permanently numbed from reality.

   Thadarus, aware of my preparations to return home, stopped me. He regarded my worn body and expressed concern to which I can't remember, but I thanked him and departed, brushing away his worries for my safety.

   There was still enough light to guide me home, my shadow elongated like a disfigured twin. Each step weighed me down more and more until I thought I would collapse upon stepping foot at the threshold of the house. My stomach had begun aching once acknowledging my lack of nutrition from the day.

   In the house, papa sat in his chair, whittling away not even looking up when I shakily entered the abode. Maman remained in her bed in the same position when I left her early that morning. Feria was the only one who was up and productive, though she was just as absentminded as papa and maman. She was also the only one to notice my drained state and assist me to the bench. I ached for some food and a bed, but I remained seated, waiting as she quietly went about drawing me a bath and helping me bathe, for I was too tired to do so myself. Afterward, she served me some soup she was preparing for supper and sent me to bed.

    As grateful as I was for the comfort of my house, I couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of suffocation at the emptiness within. It felt nothing more than coming home to only myself. Alone in a house full of people I was beginning to feel detached from.

My body was sore from the day before, but my mind was in better condition as I again awoke before the sun was up and prepared for the day.

   I set out, already planning what I was going to do in the field that day. The lentils would be finished and I would begin on the carrots, the goodroots would be left last if I got to them. Remembering the scorching heat from yesterday, I brought alone a patch of old cloth to use for sweat.

   The men were conversing just like yesterday, though this time I didn't straddle off to the side in wait. Heading to the chest, I collected my tools and got to work, not wasting a single moment.

    Like yesterday, I numbed the pain and thoughts which visited me. I worked efficiently on my rows and sowing the seeds in the correct spot. Every so often, oddly enough, I could feel a pair of eyes watching me as I worked. Sometimes I would glance up and see one of the men watching me or their sons, but they would resume their tasks once realizing I noticed them.

   When the midday meal came around I was wiser and sat under a shady tree to eat and read. Minryn would lend me different books, either for academic reasons or merely for my leisure, to take home. I currently held a book relating to different foregone empires.

   With the midday meal drawing to an end, I'd get back to work, finishing the lentils at last and starting on the goodroots, which I quickly discovered was going to give me grief.

   Feria's volume on plants proved useful to me at that point as I recalled how goodroots needed ample room to grow, for their roots went deep and spread wide. My problem wasn't with planting them far from each other since goodroots if their roots touched would merely connect, my problem resulted from the fact that goodroots could easily overpower another crop- another crop being the carrots which also grew underground. I couldn't risk a harvest growth by planting the crop too close to the carrots nor push them back where their roots would reach to bad soil and rot; goodroots were a very difficult crop to raise.

   Assessing the situation, I made the bold decision to rearrange the crops. No more would the goodroots be planted solely along the south perimeter, but rather they would be sown in the corners apart from each other, hopefully preventing connections of the roots. The carrots would still be in the middle of the field, but with the leftover lentils, I would create a barrier from the goodroots.

    By the time I was done doing what I planned, the day was about over and it would have been foolish of me to start on the carrots, so I put away my tools and returned home. I wasn't as worn out as I had been yesterday, but the soreness still resided.

    With my new layout in mind I rested easy that night, though still unnerved by the silence which resounded in the house.

    The next day played how the last two had. I got up, went to work without socializing with anyone, and toiled away silently. It struck me as a funny thing that I kept myself in quiet all the day long, but the moment I would return home I would long for the silence to be broken.

    By midday as I settled under the same shady tree, I was glad I had packed Feria's volume with me. I asked her the night before if I could borrow it, but all she did in response was shrug.

   If nothing else, I missed my older sister. I missed hearing her honeyed voice chatter away with such a lightness of spirit. We had already lost one sister, why lose another.

   Just as I was turning the page, my studying was interrupted by a familiar voice, sounding tired from a long journey.

   "Goodness, child! How do you make it in such sweltering heat?"

   Setting down my book, I looked up and a radiant smile marked my face. Flinging the book aside as I sprung up, I hurried over to Minryn, hugging her tightly and staring up at her in joy.

   "What are you doing here?" I asked.

   She smoothed the front of her smock, "Looking for you."

   "How did you know I was here?"

   "I went past your house and your sister told me." She surveyed the area with squinted eyes, unaccustomed to the blaring sun. "Is this where you've been spending your time?"

   "Yes." I felt sheepish in that moment after admitting it. "I meant to tell you but I'm so worn after each day. But I did mean to inform you. I'm sorry."

   She looked down at me. Though her face was naturally a very hard one, I could tell the expression she wore at that moment was a troubled one.

   "You tend to your father's field?"

   "I do. The crops needed to be sown before time ran out."

   "I thought I saw a glimpse of your father when I stopped past. Is he in good health?"

   Thinking on my parents' state made me reserved, but Minryn was a friend and she only showed natural concern. Still, I fidgeted with the end of my dress.

   "His physical health is fine...it's his emotional health which is...lacking."

   Her troubled face morphed into a grave one.

   "It still hits them hard, does it?"

    I nodded sorrowfully. "Maman especially."

   "You come out here to tend to your father's field because he can't- or won't?"

   "He's still grieving and if I can lighten his load then I'll try."

   "You're a good daughter, Aelita."

    Her words made me shield my eyes from the sun to look up at her. They touched and startled me at the same time.

    "An honorable, good daughter. You bring your family, you bring me, great pride."

    Instinctively, my humility caused me to glance down at the ground, but internally, her words stirred in me the strength needed to give that extra push, that one foot forward in the direction of relief. Her words were so brief, yet filled with emotions and results so vast and moving that I felt something in my heart plucked like a string of a harp. In her words, I found the spirit of Erinna which stirred my soul once more.

    I don't know how, but I managed to look back up at her and whisper out a hoarse "Thank you."

   "What have you left to do?" She asked, refocusing the attention back to the crops.

   "The carrots."

   "Ah." She began moving about the field, inspecting things. She had more of a critical eye than I would expect from her. "How'd you get these rows, child? Crooked, crooked. The spacing is adequate, but not utilized to its fullest extent."

   Shadowing her, I studied my mistakes with disappointment but not surprise.

   "Goodroots are fickled you know."

   "I know. That's why I'm putting them apart as best I can."

   "Good."

   She crept about, inspecting my work for another moment or so before facing me. I knew what her rubbing her knobby chin meant: she was in deep thought.

   "Let me see what exactly you're doing." She instructed me.

   Obeying, I returned to the patch of soil where I was sowing the last bit of goodroot I had. I only got through two holes before Minryn protested with a loud cry.

   "No wonder you go home worn, child. You waste your time and energy on such a small, laborious plot."

   "What do you mean?"

   She plucked the dibber from my hand and shook it.

   "Grant it it's something you got through so much with just this mere trinket, but you could have been done this small plot of land a day or so ago."

   Puzzled, I gave her a baffled look. I knew no other way to sow the field. She sighed like she did whenever I'd get a simple equation wrong.

   "With a mind like yours, Aelita, you work, not toil."

   I was still lost to her ravings. She understood that and sighed once more, tossing the tool aside.

   "These men,"- she subtly gestured to the men who were hard at work on their own fields, not paying us any heed- "All their lives they were taught how to raise a field with sweat pouring off their sunbaked backs until the day the sun won them over. They know no other way than hard, grueling labor. But you? You're not a child of the field, no, you're born from the pages of a book; you toil in a different manner than how these men do.

   "Do not assume yourself the same, for we are all expected to be different. You're different from this type of labor, though you are placed in a position where you must do it. Why then do you break your back but not your mind? Use your knowledge, Aelita. I don't teach you the ways to have them wasted when needed."

   Frowning, I started to explain my confusion, but she interrupted me once more, tapping the side of my head with her thick finger.

   "Use your wits. You work, you don't toil, not here in these fields."

   Glancing about, I tried to understand what she wanted me to get. I watched the men and their sons- the sons that they teach their ways- work together, each straining in their own way, but making progress. They toil.

    My gaze found the tossed aside dibber where they lingered for a moment before staring over the field again, my mind churning the entire time.

   "You need rows to sow your seeds, what must you do?" She prompted quietly in my ear.

   "What must I do?"

   Gingerly, I started making my way to the communal chest for tools, stopping to glance back at my field and Minryn who gave me a strong, onward nod. Opening the chest, I took out a bent rake with a sorely rusted handle and some fraying string. With the items in hand, I returned back to the field where Minryn stood to the sides, watching me silently; the pedagogu assessing the pupil.

   I tied the rope on the end handle of the rake, creating a hand loop for me to pull on. Next, I placed the rake as good into the soil as I could get and standing behind the rake I began to drag it back, careful to keep my lines straight. I remembered seeing illustrations in books where an animal- mainly a workhorse or ox- would drag along a plow to create the rows. That was the method I chose to copy after, just on a smaller scale.

   When I reached the end of one row, I moved onto the next, steady and constant. Minryn watched me the entire time, her expression not revealing her exact thoughts, but I was making more progress than I previous had. I was using my wits.

   After the rows were created, I could easily and quickly sow in the seeds. The carrots, though the largest group, went the quickest and by the time the sun was showing signs of setting, I was completely finished my field. All my crops were sown, now they needed only to be tended to and the field upkept.

   Minryn finally broke her silence when I returned after putting my tools away.

   "About time you started using all that knowledge you store up in there." She grinned and I returned the smile. "It's getting late, shall we go?"

   We started back on the road home. We were silent most of the way until we were closer to the house, that's when I spoke up.

   "Thank you for helping me."

   "No worries, child." She chuckled quietly. "It's amusing you see, I've been fretting over how to feed you new things when you already know so much. But this, this today taught me that there's still more learning to be done."

   "What's that?" I looked up at her.

   "No new book knowledge, but real, applicable knowledge. You're intelligent, my dear, but you need to be more clever."

   I looked straight ahead, staring at the orange and pink mix together behind the trees as the sun set lower and lower.

   "I believe this field work will be an overall beneficial thing. No more of a stuffy old cottage, we need a new classroom."

   That caught my attention again.

   "You? Out in the field with me?"

   "Two pairs of able hands are better than one."

   My gratitude was overwhelming.

   "Thank so much, Minryn."

   She pulled me close as we walked arm in arm.

   "Don't you forget, if you're ever in trouble ask for help. You'll be surprised at the help you might get. Besides, being in those fields, it'll feel like home."

   Her words surprised me and caused me to look up at her with a puzzled expression. She wore a cheeky grin, making the truth of her words register shock with me. Before I could say anything she cut me off.

   "Ah, it seems some of our roots go back to more common soil than we think."

   It amazed me. I wanted to ask her how she eventually learned to read and write, but I left that story for another time as I had just arrived at my house. Waving goodbye to Minryn, I watched her disappear down the road until she became a single speck covered by the trees.

   That night was bearable due my uplifted spirits that Minryn helped bring about. I realized then that even though I hadn't searched for help, the Fates knew exactly what and who I needed before I did.