It was late autumn in the south of the continent. Morning mist wound around Sanglun Village's low houses and yellowing branches like soft ribbons. Not far away, the Silverthread River murmured along, its waters sounding much deeper than they had in summer, as if a lively young girl had become an elegant lady.
Lucia Sterling rose early, slung an old wicker basket over her arm, and left home. She planned to pick some wild asters from a flower field growing along the riverbank outside the village and sell them to peddlers from Autumnwind City.
Autumn was aster season. Every day, peddlers from the city came to buy local goods and resell them in Autumnwind City for a profit. Asters could be sold to flower shops, though they were not worth much. The peddlers needed room for profit too, so their purchase price was even lower. But Lucia was only nine years old. Even if it took her ten straight days of deliveries to earn a single copper coin, she was completely satisfied.
"Good morning, little Lucia." By the country road, an auntie picking beans in her vegetable garden straightened up and greeted her with a smile.
"Good morning, Aunt Marta." Lucia slowed slightly and replied politely.
"Going to pick flowers again?" Marta asked. Her gaze habitually swept over Lucia's delicate, adorable face and her beautiful hair, fiery red with a faint purple gradient at the tips.
"Mm."
"Tell your father that the chipped woodcutting knife from my house should be brought over this afternoon for him to fix."
"Got it." Lucia answered. Her father was Emon Sterling, the village's only blacksmith and also the captain of its militia.
It was said that her old father had been a powerful adventurer who traveled the world in his youth. Lucia did not