Runaway Hero and the Farm

As I round the top of the hill, I spot the wide golden fields. They glitter under the sun, striking against the deep green surrounding them. I hadn’t meant to, but I’ve come to the farm. I had wanted to avoid it, even after I ran out of food supplies. The farmers know me, so I don’t want to face them.

I’d be even more ashamed if it was them in particular. They’re strong. They’re the only ones I can imagine surviving against the Demon King. I didn’t want to let people like that know what I did. But it’s too late for me to turn back. I’ve entered their domain, and now I must deal with whatever comes.

I see a rotund man approaching me. It feels strange to look at his face. Even hidden by his large beard, his face is full of joy and vigor, in spite of everything. He studies my face, partially obscured by my hood, for several seconds. Then he jovially slaps my shoulder with his giant hand.

“It’s you, isn’t it, Alan. Come on, come to the house, I’m sure the missus will be happy to see ya too.”

I don’t respond. I don’t know how to. I take down my hood. He leads me past the fields, golden stalks flanking us on either side, and to the house. The house is large, large enough to hold the dozen or so workers they employ without any difficulty. He opens the door and brings me to the parlor. A heavily pregnant woman, his wife, sits in a comfortable chair there. She seems happy to see me.

“Oh, Alan, you really are alright. See, honey, I knew he wouldn’t be beat by some demons.” If you already understood everything, then stop treating me so kindly. “But what are you doing back here, and all alone? I reckon you could beat the Demon King no problem right now.”

“Amelia got hurt.” At this point, I can still say I’m telling the truth.

“What a gentleman. Is she recovering well?”

“Yes, she is.” I don’t want to lie. “I made a barrier just in case, but we should…” I don’t want to lie to people like them. “But that sort of discussion isn’t important. Will it be soon?”

She looks down at her stomach as though she were checking on the process.

“It should be any day now.”

“That’s incredible.” I feel a pang of guilt when I think of this child being born.

“Are you interested? Go ahead, feel my belly, it’s a wonderful thing.”

“Are you sure that’s alright?”

I warily place a hand on her stomach. Another of my powers as Hero is to feel the pulse of life. It pulses strongly inside of her stomach. So much stronger than I ever could have imagined.

“Do you think you and Amelia will settle down and have a family somewhere once this is all over.” It hurts.

“When the Demon King is defeated… When I’m no longer the Hero… Honestly… I haven’t thought about what I’ll do when I complete my duty. It’s all I’ve done. The future…”

As I search for my next words, I feel a small, light tap against my palm. It hurts too much for me to bear, the guilt.

I fall to my knees and yank back my hand. I cover my face, although I do not cry. Both of them are worried for me.

“Alan, is something wrong?!” I don’t know how to respond.

The man’s large hand picks me back up. He turns me towards him.

“Alan… A lot of people went back home, so we’re short on hands. Would you like to help out in the fields a little.” I nod silently. I’ll do anything if it lets me ignore this pain I feel.

I follow him back out into the fields. He can tell I look lost here, and he teaches me how to harvest wheat. Apparently I take to it well, and he praises me for it. We harvest the fields. We do it in calming silence. We do nothing but tend the fields until the sun goes down.

When the sky grows dark, we return to the house. We walk further in, and find his wife standing in the kitchen. He rushes over to her.

“Dear, you didn’t need to do all that. I thought you said you would rest until the baby’s born.”

“I just can’t help myself. I get restless without something to do.”

“Well, that’s fine, I just don’t want you pushing yourself just for my sake.”

“I won’t. Let’s go eat.”

We set the table together and eat a meal. I can’t remember the last time I did something like this. Or even if I ever had. A warm meal, a warm home, warm people. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed a meal so peacefully.

They offer to let me stay the night, and I accept without thinking. I shouldn’t want to wait around here. I shouldn’t allow myself that. And yet, I can’t resist.

The next morning we eat a simple breakfast together, then go back to harvesting. Then we return to the house to eat another meal. The next day is much the same for a while. We harvest in silence. However, he suddenly breaks the silence and begins to speak.

“Alan, did you run away?” I hesitate for a few seconds, but I cannot lie any longer.

“Yes. I ran away and have no intention of fighting the Demon King.”

“Is Amelia really alright?” I hesitate for a few seconds, left with only the painful truth.

“I don’t know. I have no idea. I abandoned her.”

“I see.” He stops for a while, surely not knowing what to do with me. When he continues, there’s something sad in his voice. “You really are just a kid. When we heard, me and the missus wanted to run away. Honestly, we still do. But for this next year, there are so many people still relying on us to live. We decided to stay because we could not leave. But I guess that sort of thing really is too much to ask of a kid who doesn’t know the world.”

I don’t know how he remained calm. Is this not his indictment of me? Does he not scorn me for childishly throwing away the life and future of his child? How can he treat me so calmly, even after what I’ve done?

We return to silence. We return to the harvest. We finish the section of field we’ve been working on, and decide to take a break. We return to the house.

When we walk in, a panicked woman hastily tells us that his wife has gone into labor. He rushes to her, and I follow after him. He brings me into the room with him, although I can’t understand why. His wife lays in a bed, struggling, two women supporting her in birthing the child.

We wait, not knowing how to help, and not being asked to. Finally, the baby is born. One of the women cuts the umbilical cord and begins to wash the newborn infant. She then returns them to his wife in bed. The two women leave the room. I try to join them, but I’m stopped, and beckoned over to the bedside.

“Alan, would you name her? Will you name our daughter?”

“Shouldn’t a priest or something do that sort of thing?”

“You’re the Hero, so it would be a great honor, don’t you think.” It for some reason hurts to rebuke her.

“I ran away from that. I abandoned my duty as Hero.”

“I know.” I don’t understand.

“I don’t know how to name a baby.”

“That’s fine, neither do we.” I cannot deny her.

“Then…” A name comes to me suddenly, although I don’t know from where. “Bethel.”

“That’s a good name.” She cradles her daughter and holds her close. “Welcome to the world, Bethel.”

We all celebrate her birth. When the night grows dark and the celebrations begin to die down, I attempt to make my leave. However, they both stop me before I can get away. They don’t try to stop me from leaving. They happily hand me supplies that will last me quite a while and see me off on my travels gently.