The Letter Sent

The Letter Sent

The morning was still cold when Zio opened the door of his hut.

Dew clung lightly to the grass. The field air felt calm, not yet fully touched by the sun.

He stepped outside and immediately saw that the door to Old Bob’s house was already open.

Old Bob sat on the wooden steps, one boot half off, his shoulders leaning slightly forward.

Usually, Old Bob would already be out in the fields until the sun climbed higher. But now he had returned, even before the day had truly begun.

Old Bob drew a slow breath, heavier than usual.

“Our crops look pretty good,” he said flatly.

Zio stood a few steps from the stairs. He nodded.

Old Bob rose slowly and fixed his boot.

“If you had come before my wife passed, she might have smiled seeing the fields like this now.”

Zio only gave a small nod, searching for words that never came.

“I put bread and soup over there,” Old Bob said, pointing toward the long wooden bench where they usually rested for lunch.

Old Bob went inside faster than usual and closed the door halfway without a sound.

Zio remained in the yard for a few seconds longer. Then he turned toward the fields and began working as usual.

Nothing was said.

But something had changed.

***

Several days passed with a slightly different rhythm.

The next harvest came. The soil had dried enough in some areas. Certain leaves had begun to age. Some roots were ready to be pulled, while other rows still had to be left alone.

Work went on without many words.

Old Bob sat more often on the wooden bench near the edge of the field. From there he gave short directions, pointing at certain rows, then falling silent again. Sometimes he stood to check one or two plants, then sat back down.

Zio moved through the work in the order he had already learned. He knew which rows to harvest first, which to leave, and which to cut short so they could grow again.

The sickle moved. Sacks filled. Rows changed.

Zio worked alone. Old Bob mostly sat and watched him.

***

Evening came slowly as several sacks were filled.

Old Bob stood from the bench and walked over.

“Put all these sacks in the storage first,” he said.

Zio finished his work for the afternoon.

Then they both sat on the long wooden bench in front of Old Bob’s house.

Old Bob took out a small sheet of paper and an envelope from his jacket pocket. The envelope was folded neatly and sealed simply.

“Tomorrow, I think you’ll have to go to Solcarys alone to sell our harvest,” Old Bob said.

Zio glanced at him briefly.

“Alright.”

“My leg needs rest,” Old Bob added. “I can’t go with you. Here are the price details.”

Zio took the paper and read it carefully.

“And when you get to the city, put this in a mailbox,” Old Bob continued. “The one near the main road.”

Zio accepted the envelope without looking inside.

“I’ll head in first,” Old Bob said, walking toward the house, his steps a little slower than usual.

Zio remained seated, staring at the sealed envelope in his hand.

***

The next morning, Zio pulled the cart out of the storage. He sat at the front seat, where Old Bob usually sat.

The road was the same as before. Dry soil in some parts. Old wheel tracks still visible. Trees stood quietly along the roadside.

The sound of the wheels felt clearer without another voice beside him.

Zio held the reins calmly. He adjusted the horse’s pace on a small incline, then let it walk slowly on the flat road. He stopped briefly at one turn to check the sack bindings, as Old Bob usually did.

The trip went without trouble.

Solcarys appeared in the distance. The northern gate stood open as usual. A brief inspection. No long questions.

Zio went to the central market and met the buyer.

He adjusted the price after a short comment about the quality. Not all of the harvest was perfect, but it was still good enough. He accepted a fair amount.

Coins were counted on a wooden table. Zio placed them neatly into his pouch.

Zio did not go straight back to the cart and horse. He walked through the city streets while holding the envelope in his hand.

He stood for a while at the side of the road. Looking left and right. His eyes searched for a mailbox. Then he looked back at the envelope.

He had been to the city before. Just never to look for something this small in its crowds.

Zio moved again, his steps slightly slower. He walked along the main road, scanning the street for the mailbox Old Bob had mentioned.

Carts rolled past. Voices overlapped. Somewhere nearby, someone argued over prices. A group of children ran past him, nearly bumping his arm. He stepped aside without looking.

Then another sound slipped through the noise.

A sharper voice. Quick. Familiar.

He slowed slightly.

At the mouth of a narrow alley, several men in dark jackets stood in a loose half-circle. Their backs blocked most of the view inside. One of them shifted, and for a brief moment Zio caught sight of pale hair between them.

The voice came again, clearer this time. Quicker now, edged with irritation.

Zio stopped. He didn't move closer, but he didn't look away either.

A second later, the elf girl stepped into view.

Zio kept watching.

When she turned and noticed him, her eyes widened. She broke away from the alley and ran over.

“Hey, you showed up too.” She stood beside him, a little closer.

“You took forever to get here.”

Zio remained silent where he stood.

The men turned toward Zio. They stared sharply. Then they left without an argument.

Nyssa let out a breath.

“Finally gone…” She glanced at Zio.

“Good thing you passed by.”

“By the way, where are you going?” she asked.“Another delivery?”

“No,” Zio answered shortly.

“Oh.” Nyssa looked at the envelope in his hand. “You delivering a letter?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, I'll take you. The mailbox isn't far. At the next intersection.”

Zio followed Nyssa to the mailbox. He held the envelope a moment longer than necessary.

The paper felt light. Thinner than it should have been. He slid it halfway into the slot, paused, then pushed it in fully. The envelope disappeared with a soft sound.

He stood there for a second more.

Then he turned away and walked back toward his cart.

Nyssa followed.

“Who’s the letter from?” Nyssa asked. “Family?”

“Old Bob. The man I work for.”

Nyssa nodded lightly.

“Still doing deliveries at the logistics shop?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“It’s nothing.”

Nyssa looked at him.

“You came to the city just to send a letter?”

“No. I sold the harvest.”

“Oh. You can farm too?”

“Still learning.”

Nyssa nodded.

“Hmm.”

A few steps passed in silence.

“By the way... I still don't know your name.”

“Zio.”

Nyssa glanced at him.

“I didn't ask. I just said I didn't know your name.” She gave a small huff.

“You still remember me, right? The one who took you to Solcarys Academy.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Nyssa looked straight at him.

“No need to thank me. I didn't ask for that. I'm just reminding you.”

Zio nodded.

Nyssa let out a long breath.

“Ah... When someone's talking, look at them.”

Zio slowed, then turned toward her. Nyssa went quiet for a moment when he actually faced her. She looked away.

“Don't stop. Just walk.”

Zio walked again. Nyssa followed.

“Nyssa. My name's Nyssa.”

“Yes. I remember.”

“You heading straight back?”

Zio took out a small shopping list.

“No. I need to buy the things on this list.”

Nyssa grabbed the paper.

“Let me see. I'll check.”

She read it quickly.

“You know where all these places are?”

“Some of them.”

“And the rest? You going to ask around?”

“I'll check the map.”

Nyssa stared at him.

“Are you even human?”

Zio stayed silent. Nyssa sighed.

“Fine. I'll come along. I'll take you to all of them.”

They went together to buy everything Old Bob had ordered.

***

Zio returned to the cart and placed all the items inside. Nyssa still stood behind him.

Zio stood in front of the horse and cart. He looked at Nyssa.

“Thanks.”

Nyssa shook her head immediately.

“No need. I was just bored.”

She looked at the cart.

“Where are you heading back to? Ravenhold?”

“No. The farm. North of Solcarys.”

Nyssa nodded. She looked at him again.

“Can I come?”

“You want to work?”

“No, just look around.”

“I don't think the farm is a place just for looking around.”

Nyssa narrowed her eyes.

“I said just looking. Do I have to work first to go there?”

Zio shook his head.

“But if you come now, it'll be late when you return to the city.”

Nyssa raised a hand.

“Hey, relax. Not today. I'm kidding.”

Zio nodded.

“Alright. I'll head out.” He turned the cart. Nyssa stood beside him.

“Um… be careful.”

Zio nodded.

“Thank you. Sorry for the trouble.”

Nyssa waved it off.

“It's fine. Just go.”

Zio climbed onto the front seat. The horse started moving.

Nyssa stood there, watching him leave.

“See you around, Zio.”

Zio looked back once and nodded.

He headed back toward the farm, leaving the city behind.

***

The evening wind moved gently along the road. The distant sound of cart wheels echoed faintly.

By the time he reached the fields, the sun had already begun to set.

Old Bob was inside the house. A dim oil lamp glowed in the window. The door was unlocked.

Zio placed the money in a small drawer near the table. He wrote the amount in a thin notebook. Then he stepped outside again.

He made sure the doors were closed, checked the cart ropes, and fed the horse.

Inside the house, Old Bob's breathing sounded steady. He had gone to sleep early.

Zio returned to his small hut.

***

Night came without any loud sound.

Zio stood at the edge of the field. The night wind carried the smell of soil and leftover fertilizer. Some land had been harvested. Some still waited.

He looked at the rows that were still growing, then toward the house with its dim light.

The season was not over. The work was not finished.

The next harvest would come whether he was ready or not.

Zio turned back toward the house and went inside.