“Interesting.” Noah’s gaze dashed past the fluttering pink petals of the cherry blossom he had suddenly found himself sat beneath and over the golden ocean of hay beyond. It was expansive and with each gust of nurturing wind would cause the many millions of stalks to sway in waves as oceanic churns swirled above from the leaves of the grey barked cherry blossom. He brought his hand to his chin, frowning as he felt and stroked the scraggly brown beard formed there.

Inspecting his surroundings, he blinked and massaged his eyes, hoping that this was some odd dream sequence, but ultimately it wasn’t. Far in the distance, just barely peeking over the high gold shutes surrounding the neatly trimmed circle of grass he sat within, he could see the sloping black structure of a farmhouse in the distance. Further up was the sun, rising it seemed.

“How did I get here?” he squinted, tilting his head side to side as he began to think as calmly as he could. It had been a normal day just like any other. Wake up, get breakfast, run off to work, come home, game, eat, sleep and repeat. Except, now he could replace the repeat with wake up in the middle of a random field of hay.

Truly an unusual happening.

Placing a hand on the ground, Noah forced himself to his feet. The speed of which sent a slight breeze wafting against his skin through the many holes dotting his garb. Noah turned his gaze down and inspected his raggedy attire with a groan of annoyance. He looked like a beggar with his hands caked in dirt and grime like he hadn’t bathed in weeks.

“Right, great. I’ve somehow reincarnated into a homeless bum. Perfect.” He groaned, lamenting how his new life—if that's even what this was—wouldn’t be as simple as being reborn to a rich family. Instead, a hobo in a field of yellow grass.

“Haa… he sighed, his arms hanging slumped at his sides. Of all suspected reincarnations, homelessness was the lowest on his list of wants. “No point lingering on the thought,” with a grumble, he swept a hand through his rough tawny hair, wincing as he snapped a few knots and gaze dazedly into the distance, focusing on the large, almost manor-Esque farmhouse in the distance. “Might as well see if I can get some help.”

***

Liora rested her arm over her eyes, blocking out the sun as she pulled one leg up on her bed, leaving the other to lay flat atop the plush cushioning as the sun blared down through her windows. Seemingly intent on striking her eyes with its torturous brightness.

The days had been tough on her since her husbands passing. Their daughter had left them long ago, out on her explorations of the world far from them, far from everything. She was alone with nothing but the songbirds singing to keep her company.

She wasn’t a farmer, the furthest thing from reality. Born a noble but fell in love with a farmer of all things. To say she knew little about the intricacies of soil nutrition and how to sow seeds was a sour understatement. As a housewife, she was to tend to their children, or child as fate had played out. To be lumped as a farmer, to replace her husband, was to be a challenge.

It was simple enough to hire someone, head out into the village, put up a bulletin on the jobs board looking for hands to work for food and board but no one would come. The Aldergreen was far too close for them to feel comfortable and safe. Ignoring the fact that she’d seen scant few monsters over her near three decades on the land.

From beneath her hand, small tears began to trickle out of her eyes as they had those three months ago. Her lips trembled and her teeth ground together, trying her utmost not to let her weeping burst forth.

It was a hopeless endeavour though… it always was.

Left alone with nothing but herself, her furniture, and dirty little dolls, she simply had nothing left to care for. While not poor, or lacking in funds, she was certainly not to the point she could sustain herself for the rest of her life. Especially with land so large and rambunctious. Perhaps she could sell a room… do something like a tavern, offer wine and board… it would certainly alleviate the loneliness.

Turning her head to the side, she gazed past those thin curtains and out to the bright blue sky outside and pondered on life meaning and whether there was any to it anymore. Sniffling, Liora pushed herself to a seated position. Wiping down the reddening cheeks of her tears, the faint scent of wine lingering on her breath rose and wafted into her nose. Slowly she tilted her head to the side at the pile of empty bottles she’d been too lazy to toss away. Her husband's collection had been rapidly dwindling during her time of wallowing.

She scanned each bottle for even the dregs of ruby sap within. Soon finding that one of them, a relatively new blend from Algen made with their grapes and blended with the nectar from a Rosethorn alraune. It was certainly enough to give her a small buzz. The only problem though, was it was far away, and she didn’t have the will to get up and fetch it.

Liora crawled over her bed, pushed her upper body over the edge and lifted one leg as a counterbalance. She stretched out towards the bottle, fingers flaring and scratching at the neck of it. “Come… on…” she whined and pushed herself out more until each scratch of her fingers caused the bottle to shift and clink against its sister bottles. With a final stretch, Liora was able to wrap her fingers around the neck and pulled it into her palm.

“Yes!” she celebrated much too early as mere moments after her fingers locked around the neck, did her balance disintegrate. The hand that held her up on the edge slipped from beneath her, sending her crashing into the pile of glass. She screamed out in surprise as the bottles rolled away from her, one thought had fallen into her gut, knocking the breath from her lungs.

Luckily, none had shattered, but the one she’d grasped, she held it over her head as if to protect it. Though that protection was misguided as it tilted just enough to send a stream of crimson ichor draining over her body, layering her glossy red hair a shade darker.

Collapsed on the ground, Liora remained unmoving even as the final drop landing on her head.

She disgusted herself. How could she have let herself fall so far? How could she let this happen to herself? She had taken to drink like a fish to water not even a week after her husband died, the emptiness of their house… it was just too much for her.

Hunched on the floor, curling into a ball as a weeping mess of a woman, Liora pondered her sallow and torn life. She was too old for any sane man to want her again. Her breasts sagged; wrinkles formed on her body by the day and her hair was rapidly losing its shine. All this growing more pronounced as her stress mounted day after day without end.

Liora wrapped her hands around her head and curled herself tighter into a ball. A heart-wrenching scream forced its way from her body, scraping her throat until she started squeaking like a mouse.

She wanted it to end.

She wanted to go back to being the woman she once was.

She wanted a hero…

Just then, a hollow knocking resounded through the house. Reverberating through the halls, up the stairs and towards her mess of a room.

Sniffling, she lifted her head and weakly wiped down her eyes of tears. The pungent stench of wine assaulted her nostrils as she muttered, “who…?” as louder knocks resounded from down the stairs.

Going down those stairs, seeing who was there for her… It was easy but horrible. They’d get to see her and her horribleness and that wasn’t something she wanted to subject them to. They should just leave, she thought. But they wouldn’t stop. The knocks grew to thunderous bangs as whoever was making them slammed their fist against it like they were attempting to punch it down.

“Liora! I know you’re home. Ge down here or I will plaster this notice to your door!”

Liora shivered, the voice was all too familiar to her. Rhule Eldove, the one person she wished she would never see, not even in the tomblands. Feeling her soul leave her body in that moment, she forced herself to act. She pushed off the ground and onto her feet and hobbled over the mess of bottles, dripping behind her a trail of ruby droplets that clung to her arm like oil.

Her feet creaked against the floorboards of the stairs leading to the entrance hall where she could see the hourglass silhouette of a woman through the glass window set in the door, hidden behind a translucent white curtain.

Liora’s hand hesitated over the handle, she knew what was coming. It was inevitable. May as well just take it now.

Pressing the handle down, the door creaked slowly open. A rush of fresh air raced in, cooling her skin but also rose plenty of goosebumps across her body. There was a floral odour to the wind, but that was more to the elven woman before her than the field of hay behind the woman.

Rhule was a tall woman, with skin as dark as midnight oak and eyes as brilliant as a verdant field of grass. But she was a cruel woman, devilish. A money-hungry harlot who willfully ripped apart what little pleasure there was in despair. Rhule was beautiful, even Liora couldn’t deny that. With her exotic purple hair and a perfect hourglass body with breasts practically bounding from her shirt and hips wide enough that a man could sink his hands in for hours at a time…

It put into perspective just how worthless her body was.

“Liora my dear.” She spoke formally, “how good of you to finally show yourself. I see you have been hitting the bottle again.” Rhule’s head tilted up, eyes pointed down, placing herself higher than Liora and taking pleasure in her dishevelled state of wine logged hair and nightgown plastered to her skin.

“Rhule… I take it you’re here to-”

“Give you a notice of eviction? Yes, I am. And I am so glad to finally see you leave.” Rhule smiled cruelly as she handed an envelope to Liora. “I’m not going to waste time. You have a year, Liora. Either you pay off what you must, or leave.”

Liora’s hand froze mid-air, “w-what do you mean by that? This farm isn’t owned by the kingdom-”

“Nor is it owned by you.” Rhule huffed, “with the last of the Rostrea’s dead and the only child of any blood relevance a runaway, this land is now without ownership. Making it now part of the kingdom.”

Liora’s skin paled more and more, “n-no! You can’t do this! This farm has been in Harv’s family for generations! You can’t just steal it like this!” there was a sadism to Rhule’s haughty posture, staring down at Liora like she was an ant to be stomped on.

“We can, Liora. There’s no one left for the deed to fall to. You hold no blood with the Rostrea, even as the wife of one the deed was never set to shift to a spouse of irrelevant bloodlines. And with your daughter off screwing some no-name adventurer with seemingly no intent of returning to claim the deed, it now belongs to the kingdom. Unfortunately,” Rhule scowled, “we still cannot throw you to the pigs. While you may not be of blood, you are of name. And that gives you time. A year to be precise before we take this dirt stack off your hands and into the kingdoms. Though, there is one option should you wish to keep this.”

Rhule shoved the envelope into Liora’s hand and the woman swiftly ripped it open. Reaching in she pulled out the letter within and flipped it open. Rhule squirmed almost orgasmically as she watched Liora’s body drain of colour and strength.

“Five… five hundred thousand?” Liora lifted her head, eyes empty of sanity, “no, t-that’s too much. We-we’ve never earned this much in even ten years! It’s ridiculous Rhule!”

Rhule scowled, her head never lowering to reveal how annoying Liora was to her ears. “And that is my problem how? Either you scrounge up the buckles, or this little shithole kicks the casket.” Rhule bent over, bringing her head just above Liora’s letting her thick floral perfume drift over Liora like the entangling grasp of a serpent. “Have fun, Liora. I will be seeing you soon. And when I do. It will be the last time I ever have to look at you.”

Turning on heel, the dark elven woman strode down the path towards the gate. Her hips swaying causing the ample flesh of her ass to jiggle. She passed by the picketed fence, stopping just beside a dirty boy with a scraggly beard who was approaching the building.

Rhule wandered her eyes over the boy from tip to toe, his dirty brown hair, that grime layering his skin and raggedy clothes. Even his beard made it look like he’d pasted the ballsack of a werewolf to his face. Utterly horrible. She snorted disgustedly before storming off down the road towards a horse-drawn carriage where her driver was waiting for her.

“Fuck you too.” Liora could just barely hear the boy say as Rhule entered the carriage and the two centauroids galloped away. Males with heavy musculature in both their upper human bodies and lower equine ones. Arms latched behind their back with straps and bits in their mouths preventing them from struggling.

The boy watched them off for a second then turned down the path to see Liora collapse to her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks as she screamed to the heavens.

“Why!? Just what did I do to anger you!?” her mind roared to the malicious gods above, the ones who took everything previous to her and were intent on taking more.

Even as the boy kneeled beside her, his hands hesitant to wrap around her, he steeled himself and pressed her into his dirty chest. One hand on the back of her wine-soaked hair. Her own hands raised to grip handfuls of his hole-ridden shirt. Unable to halt the flow of tears and uncaring for the powerful stench of months old sweat the boy exuded.

“Shh, shh…” she found comfort in the gentle caress of his hand on her body. Letting her bawl her heart out to him.