Elara Stonefield's eyes were wide open, staring fixedly at the darkened roof of thatch and dried mud. The old blanket covering her—if it could still be called a blanket—was faded and yellowed beyond its original color, and it exuded a faint, lingering scent of years of accumulated mustiness.
Beside her, snuggled close, was her younger sister, Lina. Lina slept soundly, her breaths light and even, occasionally interspersed with a few dream-like murmurs.
A few paces from her simple bed stood a rammed earth wall. Time had etched several fine, web-like cracks across its surface, spreading inconspicuously. Through these fissures, she could faintly hear her mother's hushed complaints, the sibilant hiss of cheap tobacco burning in her father's pipe, and the occasional suckling sound as he drew on it.
Elara slowly closed her somewhat sore eyes, trying to will herself back to sleep. She knew full well that if she couldn't rest properly, she wouldn't be able to wake up early tomorrow, nor would she be able to join the other children she'd arranged to meet to gather kindling and firewood in the nearby forest.
Elara's surname was Stonefield, an unassuming surname, much like the barren land itself. As for her given name, "Elara," it was considered rather refined for an ordinary farming family in such a remote village. This was all thanks to Old Man Miller from the village. In his youth, the old man had spent a few years as an assistant to a scholar in a nearby town and was one of the few villagers who could recognize a few letters and could barely read and write. Elara's father had traded a small pot of home-brewed mead for Old Man Miller to choose this name for his eldest daughter.
When Old Man Miller was young, he had served as a scribe for a scholar in town for several years, and was the only person in the village who knew a few letters and could勉强 string together a few words. More than half the children in the village had names he had racked his brains to come up with.
Elara didn't have any particular nickname in the village, perhaps because she wasn't as noisy or mischievous as the other children. She was quiet by nature, her thoughts deeper than those of her peers. But precisely because of this, apart from her family, most villagers simply called her "Elara," or sometimes, when addressing her, there was an almost imperceptible sense of distance. The other children were mostly called things like "Billy the Loach," "Freckle-faced Amy," or "Loud Tom." Elara was glad she didn't have such an embarrassing moniker, though sometimes she felt that not having a nickname made her seem a little less part of the group.
And the reason some children were given such nicknames was merely because there might already be another child in the village named Billy or Tom, and it was a way to tell them apart.
It wasn't a big deal; other children in the village were called this or that, and those names weren't necessarily any better sounding than a formal name.
Therefore, although Elara sometimes felt a pang of loneliness for not quite fitting in with her surroundings, she could only bear it silently.
Elara's appearance was unremarkable; her slightly sun-darkened skin was a testament to years of helping her family with various farm chores and odd jobs, the typical look of a common farm girl. But her inner world was far more mature than that of many village children her age. From Old Man Miller's sporadic and somewhat exaggerated descriptions, she had secretly yearned for the wider, more prosperous world beyond the village, dreaming of one day seeing with her own eyes the towns and distant lands that existed only in stories and legends.
Of course, Elara had never mentioned this thought to anyone. In this secluded, underdeveloped village, for a ten-year-old girl to harbor such "unrealistic" ideas was enough to make adults both surprised and unable to resist shaking their heads in dismay. After all, children her age were either still chasing each other along the field ridges or had already begun to learn simple farm work and household chores. Who would idly dream of leaving the land that had nurtured them? Most villagers, it was known, had never ventured more than a day's journey from this valley in their entire lives.
Elara's family consisted of five people: her parents, an older brother who had already gone to a blacksmith's forge in a nearby town as an apprentice, and herself and her younger sister, Lina. She had just turned ten this year. The family's finances were extremely tight; they rarely saw meat on the table throughout the year, and the whole family perpetually struggled on the brink of subsistence.
At this moment, Elara was in a drowsy, half-asleep state, her mind still lingering on the thought: when she went into the forest later, she absolutely had to help her beloved sister Lina pick more of those sweet berries she loved so much.
The next day, around noon, as Elara, under the scorching sun, carried a heavy bundle of firewood nearly half her height on her back, and carefully cradling an apron fashioned from the hem of her tunic, filled with bright red berries, hurrying home from the edge of the forest, out of breath, she had no idea that a special guest had arrived at her home—one who would completely change the course of her life.
This esteemed guest was a close relative of her family—her maternal third uncle, Hobbes.
It was said that this Uncle Hobbes worked as a head steward at "The Singing Barrel Tavern" in Greystone Town, a slightly larger town nearby, and was, in her parents' words, a man of considerable resourcefulness. In the last few generations of the Stonefield family, he was perhaps the only relative who could be considered to have some standing and connections.
Elara had only met this Uncle Hobbes a few times when she was very young. It was rumored that her brother had been able to become an apprentice at the town's blacksmith forge thanks to this uncle's recommendation. Moreover, this uncle would occasionally send some food or spare copper coins to her parents, looking out for their family. Therefore, Elara's impression of Uncle Hobbes was also quite good; she knew that although her parents didn't say it, they were very grateful to him in their hearts.
Her brother was the pride of the whole family. It was said that as an apprentice at the blacksmith's forge, not only was his food and lodging covered, but he could also earn thirty copper coins a month as wages. Once he formally completed his apprenticeship and could take on work independently, he would earn even more.
Whenever her parents mentioned her brother, their faces would immediately light up, as if they were different people. Though Elara was young, she was very envious of this. In her mind, the best prospect was to one day be noticed by a skilled craftsman in town, taken on as an apprentice, and thus become a respectable person who could earn a living by their craft.
So, when Elara saw this Uncle Hobbes, dressed in a brand-new, thick woolen suit, with a round face and a neatly trimmed mustache, she couldn't have been more excited.
After carefully stacking the firewood in the designated spot behind the house, she came to the front room, shyly gave Uncle Hobbes a simple curtsy, and then politely said, "Greetings, Uncle Hobbes." Then she stood quietly to one side, listening to her parents chat with her uncle about everyday matters.
Uncle Hobbes looked at Elara with a smile, examining her carefully from head to toe, praising her a few times with words like "quiet" and "sensible," then turned to her parents and began to explain the real reason for his visit.
Although Elara was still young and couldn't fully understand all of her uncle's slightly complicated words, she generally grasped the meaning.
It turned out that the true owner of the tavern where Uncle Hobbes worked was an organization called the "Stonefist Outpost." Within this organization, there was a clear distinction between outer personnel and core members. Not long ago, her uncle had just received a promotion, barely managing to become an outer personnel of this organization. Therefore, he had obtained a few precious recommendation spots, allowing him to recommend children between the ages of seven and twelve to participate in the Stonefist Outpost's rigorous trials for recruiting core apprentices.
The Stonefist Outpost's quinquennial test for recruiting core apprentices was due to begin next month. This somewhat astute Uncle Hobbes, who had no children of his own, naturally thought of Elara, who was just the right age.
Her father, typically stoic and taciturn, felt a little unsure upon hearing unfamiliar words like "organization" and "trials." He picked up his old pipe, which he had used for many years, took a few deep puffs, and then sat there, silent, his brow furrowed.
In Uncle Hobbes's description, the Stonefist Outpost was naturally a very formidable and prominent power within a hundred-mile radius.
As long as one could successfully pass the trials and become a core apprentice, not only could they learn valuable skills to support herself free of charge in the future, but their food and lodging would be entirely provided for, and they would even receive a small pouch of coppers each month as an allowance. Moreover, even those children who participated in the trials but were ultimately not selected would have the opportunity to become outer personnel like Uncle Hobbes, specifically managing the Stonefist Outpost's various external enterprises.
Upon hearing that it was possible to receive a small pouch of coppers every month and even have the chance to become as respected as Uncle Hobbes, her father's initially hesitant heart was finally set, and he nodded heavily, agreeing to the matter.
Uncle Hobbes was very pleased to see Elara's father agree. He then took out some more copper coins from his pocket and left them, saying it was for Elara's parents to buy her more nutritious food before he came to take Elara away in a month's time, to build up her strength for the upcoming trials. Afterwards, Uncle Hobbes briefly said goodbye to Elara's parents, affectionately patted Elara's head, then got up and left to return to town.
Although Elara didn't fully understand the entire meaning of her uncle's words, she understood that she could go to town, and might even earn more money than her brother in the future. That much, she understood.
The small wish that had been deeply hidden in her heart was now on the verge of becoming a reality, which kept her too excited to sleep for several nights in a row.
A little over a month later, Uncle Hobbes indeed arrived at the village on time, ready to take Elara away. Before leaving, her father solemnly instructed Elara to be diligent and hardworking when she was away, to learn to protect herself in tricky situations, and to avoid unnecessary disputes as much as possible. Her mother, eyes rimmed with red, told her to be sure to take care of herself, ensure she was well-fed and healthy, and not to suffer hardships out there.
On the bumpy, swaying flatbed cart, watching the figures of her parents and sister gradually recede and blur in the distance, Elara bit her lip tightly, desperately holding back the tears welling in her eyes.
Although she had been much more mature and sensible than other children her age since she was little, she was, after all, still only a ten-year-old girl. Leaving home for the first time, going to a completely unknown place, filled her heart with the sorrow of parting and an indescribable sense of trepidation and unease. She silently resolved in her young heart: when I master powerful skills and have enough ability in the future, I will come back immediately and never be separated from my parents and Lina again.
Elara never imagined that after leaving her hometown this time, the significance of money would soon lose its original meaning to her. She had unwittingly embarked on a path entirely different from the mundane world, a path full of unknowns and challenges, forging a path of legend, uniquely her own…