It's been a month since she's moved into this old farmhouse in the Forget-Me-Not Valley. It's also been a month since Juliet Wilson, better known as Jill, was forced out of the nest straight into the big wide world after the loss of her mother; a loss that only worsened the blow that came from her father's death a few years earlier.
Farming has always been part of the family business. The legacy of Pete Wilson is one that's been carried down for generations, as have the hammer, sickle, axe, watering can, and hoe that are sitting in the unoccupied stable next door, gathering dust. Anything but hard, honest work isn't an option for the Wilson family.
Jill wishes it wasn't.
Now would be just about the perfect time for those family history investigators from TV to find a mystery older sibling that was in line to inherit the farm before her. But this farmhouse doesn't even have a TV. Food is delivered to the doorstep in a basket, carried all the way over from the supermarket in Mineral Town. The vast field outside threatens to grow into a sea of straggly weeds, fallen branches and rocks, with a single peach tree surviving amidst the chaos. Animal barns and chicken coops have long since fallen to storms of the past, and sometimes Jill swears she can hear mournful sounds of bleating and clucking in her sleep; yet the only animals on the ranch are the cat and dog, lovingly named Cat and Dog by a younger, less imaginative Jill. The farm itself feels like a ghost of the past, the glory days. And without a scrap of guidance, except for Takakura, the rather crabby "mentor" living next door, Jill has no idea how to bring it back. It's been that way all through that month.
Until the strange dream happened. Even then, she's not even sure if that's a good way to describe it.
She's asleep, tossing and turning on the unfamiliar bed. All the while, the lady and her consorts stand at the bedside, looking at the brunette with shame.
"I promised her mother to make her work hard," the lady sighs, putting a hand to her hip. She looks like- and probably is- the Harvest Goddess of myth that lurks in the spring up in the hills, the one all the people in the valley talk about so fervently. She's swathed in faintly shimmering silk, and her skirts flow like the water in her pond. Her hair is a deep shade of green, and is done up in two buns on each side of her head. A single long plait floats down from it, swishing as she speaks. "But it's no use. I've tried as hard as I can to make her work, and she just stays in bed all day." The little consorts at her feet mutter in agreement- they're like the little elves seen at Christmas, only decked out in an individual colour of the rainbow, but Jill knows from word on the wind that they're not elves, they're Harvest Sprites, underlings of the Goddess. That is, if little Hugh and his excited ramblings are to be trusted. But that isn't what the lucid Jill is concerned with right now.
"Maybe it would be easier if it was someone different," the Goddess muses, her eyes narrowing. "This girl's far too lazy to be any good, and I just can't change her. I suppose there's naught we can do but give up."
The Harvest Sprites titter in agreement again, but their tiny voices are disrupted, disrupted with a thunder that almost causes Jill to wake up. Only the thunder is a voice, and the voice comes from nowhere.
"'Give up'?! The only lazy one here is you! You're the Harvest Goddess! You're responsible for this girl!"
The Harvest Sprites squeak, and panic is evident on all their cherublike faces. "The Harvest King!" can be heard among their nervous stutters. The Goddess, however, seems nothing but annoyed. Quite an unholy expression is on her face, and her slender, graceful hands clench into fists. She glares at the ceiling, in the knowing that her boss would never list out his complaints in person. Viridian green eyebrows arch. "She's useless! A hopeless cause!"
"It's your job to make her useful! Is that beyond your abilities now? It seems even time is out of your grasp now... perhaps I should employ a younger god in your place..."
Her anger only heightens, and the Harvest Sprites recoil as if stung. They crowd around the lady, as if to form a protective circle around the Goddess, and Jill is completely ignored. The Harvest Goddess shakes her fist at the ceiling, lines of anger showing up on a previously unspoilt visage. "Why, you... my age has nothing to do with it!" After a moment, she twitches, and pouts. "You can't hide the years either! Baldy!"
And in that moment, Jill swears her dream has suddenly transformed into a schoolyard. Although the Harvest Goddess remains resolute, her arms crossed and her face the picture of irritance, the Harvest Sprites start cackling, the word "baldy" being tossed between them like a ball. Over the giggling and heckling, the large voice is silenced, although an aura of rage hangs over the room like a stormcloud. Jill is sure something terrible is about to happen- and she's right.
"I'll teach you not to insult me," the voice growls.
A smirk tugs at the corner of the Goddess' mouth. "I'd like to see you t-"
But her remark is never finished. There's a snap of light, and only a glimpse is seen of the woman's surprised face as she vanishes completely.
The Sprites all blink, and face each other in confusion, trying to make something of the situation. Eventually, an agreement is reached between them, and they face the ceiling, anger on each of their faces.
"What did you do?!" one of them demands, his hat and clothing perfectly matching his red face.
"Yeah, what did you do?!" an orange-hatted one besides him echoes, slightly unsure of what to say, but angry nevertheless.
"It's only 'cause you're insecure about your baldness, chrome-dome!" the yellow-hatted one shrieks, and his remark seemingly strikes a chord with the other Harvest Sprites.
Soon enough, Jill's bedside is a schoolyard again. The "baldy" remark is thrown to the ceiling with great enthusiasm and vigour on behalf of the tiny people, and once more laughter is shared at the Harvest King's expense. One purple-hatted Sprite even pummels his own head wildly, as if it were a drum. In all her nineteen years, Jill has never seen such a downright bizarre example of teasing, semi-conscious dream or not.
"Silence, all of you... listen... I'm not..." The huge voice doesn't seem so intimidating for a few minutes as it attempts to subdue the erratic laughter of the elf-like beings next to Jill, but it's easily forgotten in the next few minutes. The voice lets out an almighty roar, and the light rips across the room again. Every single Harvest Sprite vanishes from the spot.
The silence is startling, and the room is empty once more- empty to the point where Jill can't tell if she's woken up or not. But she's unmoving, and knows the dream isn't over yet.
Hesitation is rife in the air. It's as if she can feel the breath of this strange force, the "Harvest King" they're all afraid of. Jill knows this is all her fault- it was her laziness that led to all this- and the knowledge that maybe this isn't really real after all does nothing to quell the thumping of her heart, as the void carries her to sleep.
But her peace of mind doesn't remain for long.
In the morning, she's thwacked in the face with a long, wooden stick- and it hits hard. Unused to such an unceremonious awakening, Jill's eyes open with a start, and she looks over in irritance to where the Harvest Goddess had been standing in the dream, expecting some kind of explanation for the origin of the smack.
As expected, the tall green-haired lady is nowhere to be seen, as with her considerably shorter subjects. Instead, a girl with straggly blonde hair and eyes the colour of dried blood stands in her stead, looking at Jill with a rather bored, expectant expression. Jill is sure she's never seen her before- or the broom that remains in the girl's hand, which looks to be the origin of the smack.
"Well, you're finally awake," the girl remarks dryly, rolling her eyes. "I thought I'd have to use a spell on you or something."
Spells? Brooms? Was this some kind of elaborate prank? "Who are you?" Jill asks, disgruntled.
"I'm the Witch Princess, and currently I serve as a mail delivery service for the Harvest King who seemingly can't deliver his own goddamn letters," the girl replies, with an equal amount of enthusiasm. She shoves a letter into Jill's hands. "Read this."
"Harvest King?" Jill echoes in horror. Oh, God, no. She can't be serious.
"That's the one," the Witch Princess responds. "Normally, we'd get the Harvest Goddess or those midgets- sorry, Sprites, to whine at you. But she's kind of tied up at the moment."
The girl's words only cause Jill to panic further, and she jumps out of bed, her eyes never shifting from the piece of paper. Jill fumbles at the door to open it, and grabs the basket of food sitting outside, nearly tipping it over. Cat uses this as an opportunity to sneak in, but the feline is ignored as Jill reads the letter to herself.
"The Harvest Goddess and the Harvest Sprites have been sent to another dimension because you couldn't do your work," Jill reads anxiously, her voice wobbling. The Witch Princess examines Cat with interest in the background, nonplussed by Jill's words. "Work hard, and they'll be restored to this world again. Sincerely, the Harvest King... what?"
"You can read his handwriting?" the Witch Princess asks. "Hmm, maybe you're not as stupid as the Goddess thinks you are."
"Then... then that must mean that that dream was... real?" Jill asks, a shiver beginning to pulse through her fingers. "Where the Goddess..."
"Called the Harvest King bald, and got exiled to another dimension for her trouble? Yes," the Witch Princess replies, still completely unfazed as Cat prowls around her feet. "The Sprites, too, in case you were wondering. And without the Goddess, we can't..." The Witch Princess pauses, and shrugs. "Well, actually, I don't care what happens to her, she's about as much good as you are. But I'm sure maybe you'll be able to get some kind of legendary tale of all her wonderous feats from the villagers if you ask around enough." She snaps her fingers, and an arcane circle blooms beneath her feet, scaring Cat to the other side of the room. "Well, my courier service is over. Come to my shack if you want to ruin some crops or split up some relationships or something. Bye."
The Witch Princess disappears, leaving Jill alone. Cat meows, and sneaks a bit of bread out of the basket. Jill remains where she stands, in her oversized T-shirt, staring at the letter in awe.
"No way," she murmurs.
She looks up, and her eyes cross paths with a photograph of her father on the bookshelf. It's black-and-white, and only vaguely looks like the man she knew for fourteen years of her life before the heart attack that got between them. There's steel in the monochrome eyes that stare back at her, and she knows that if hewas here now, there wasn't a chance that any of this would be happening. Jill would be a hard worker, never thinking for a minute that she wasn't cut out for the job or that she didn't know how to do it.
"I'll do it," she mutters determinedly, and nods. "Yes. I'll make you proud, Dad."
At this decision, fireworks ring in Jill's head, and she's struck with a sudden sense of motivation she's never felt before. She runs over to the box in the corner of the room that contains all her clothing, and pulls on what she feels is most suitable for the job she's going to begin today- after rifling through flimsy cardigans and delicate patent pumps and miniskirts, she finds a t-shirt, some old jeans which did nothing for her figure, some old boots (probably her mother's) and an old looking apron-type thing, picked solely for the purpose of the multiple pockets it possesses- probably useful for holding seeds, she figures. No sooner than she's pulled on all the clothes and brushed her muddy-brown hair into a ponytail does she hear a knock at the door.
The Witch Princess again? she asks herself, as she makes her way over. No. probably not. Takakura, maybe? What have I done this time? Why would anyone want me at this hour?
She glosses over all of the names in the Valley that she knows as she opens the door, and as she sees the face of the jolly-looking man on the doormat, her expectations are crushed. He looks to be about middle-age, but his hair is noticeably thinning on top- the red top hat that perches on the top of his head doesn't help to disguise it in the least. He has a bulbous nose and a large brown moustache proudly bristling beneath it, and his bespectacled eyes seem tiny in comparison. Jill is sure, as with before, that she's never seen this man before in her life.
"Hello," she says cautiously.
"Good morning!" the man responds cheerfully. "My name is Thomas, and I'm the mayor of Mineral Town. I've been notified that you've taken up this farm in your father's stead, Ms. Juliet."
He couldn't have turned up a month ago? What's Mineral Town got to do with this, anyway? "Um, yes, I did."
"Great!" he grins. This old man's attitude is as bright as his clothing, Jill decides. "Then the paperwork was right."
"You said you were the mayor of Mineral Town," Jill frowned, "and it's great that you're over here and all, but isn't there, uh... mayorly stuff you need to attend to?"
"Ah," Thomas frowns in return, "there would be. You see, this ranch is a very valuable piece of land, in a prime location. The produce that's come from it has never been anything but the highest quality, and has been imported all over the world. As this valley has no real authority figure of its own to control the shipments, there are multiple towns that decide where the produce goes. When we got news of the heir- and by 'we', I mean the mayors across the towns, you understand- we decided that one of us had to take the shipments given how young you still are, and I..." His eyebrows furrow, and he holds the brim of his hat in irritance. "I lost the rock-paper-scissors match, and that's why I'm here. It's my responsibility to take the shipments in every evening from now on. Oh, brother..." He makes some grumbling sounds beneath his breath that he's sure Jill won't be able to hear, and grins again, somewhat mockingly this time. "But are you sure you want to stay here? This farm is awfully overgrown. It could take a while to restore it. Besides, it might be a bit difficult for a beginner to manage a big farm like this. We could find you a nice lot in Mineral Town you could use? It'd be a lot easier for a girl like you."
This time, Jill's eyebrows furrow. As the heiress to a multi-million grossing farm estate, she at least thinks she would be respected. "A girl like me?" she repeats. "Difficult?" She knows getting angry with this man would only make the situation worse, but it's difficult to hide the annoyance that arises from not being taken seriously.
The mayor laughs nervously. "Of course! Why, this place barely looks like a farm anymore. I doubt you'd be able to sort out a problem like that. Maybe we could get you started with assistant work at Vesta's farm? Mind you, she doesn't need the burden, there's already Marlin and Celia... hmm..."
As the mayor rambles on about a list of places Jill could go, her ears pick up a low growling sound nearby. She looks over to the kennel besides the house, and Dog is there, bewildered by the strange new visitor. "Stay," she whispers.
"Perhaps you might like to go a different route to farm work?" the mayor suggests, his bright tone still evident, and the condescension is causing Jill to see red. "There are plenty of opportunities out there for a young lady such as yourself. It's almost a shame to be constrained to farm work! We can sell this land off to someone else if you like, and you can use the funds to get yourself started in the big wide world- you'd have to give a majority of it to the governments, though, you understand, part of-"
She's had enough. "No."
And just like that, with a single stomp of her foot, Dog takes the hint and leaps into action. Despite his small size, the beagle is easily able to take Thomas by surprise, and in seconds Thomas is taken down. She knows this man can't hide the years, and the panic he expresses as Dog rips away at his tailcoat and gnaws at his ankles is almost terrifying to behold. Half of her wants to smile, half of her wants to panic too- this man is rude, he's condescending, she hates how he's just turned up on her doorstep with a jolly smile and talked down to her, but Goddess forbid she hates him enough to watch his brutal demise right there and then.
"Dog," she says, as fiercely as she can muster. "Down."
The puppy growls, and leaves the Mayor alone, but not before ripping a piece of cloth away from the coat in defiance. Thomas crawls back up, his once-comical features displaying a mixture of fear, anger and apprehension. Jill isn't sure whether to help him up or to stand her ground- but the decision is made for her.
"I come by to pick up shipments at five o'clock," he says gruffly, straightening his buttercup-coloured bow tie. His face is covered in dirt, and there's mud all down his clothing. "You'd better make a quick start."
"Um..." Jill looks down. "I didn't mean for that to happen, I'm sorry. He's still a puppy..."
The Mayor grunts. He's a completely different man from the plump, jolly figure that knocked on the door. "I'll let this off with a warning. If this happens again, we'll start having second thoughts about who's allowed to run this farm."
Our first meeting, and he's already broken character. Jill shivers under the Mayor's steely glare, and he departs without so much as a goodbye. She watches tentatively from the doorframe, as the morning sun begins to rise, and the light hits him right on the back of the head.
"Heh," she mutters. "Baldy."
putting author notes at the beginning of the chapter is too mainstream
so um yes I wrote this thing
dunno how long it's going to be
Harvest Moon belongs to Natsume and stuff
stuff will actually happen in the next chapter I think including the beginning of our heroine's ~kawaii romansu~
if you are reading this part it means that you've probably read through the chapter and for that, dear reader, I thank you for your time
this is the supermassive ego signing out