Chapter 1
Sebastian isn’t sure exactly when it happened. The spring days were pretty much exactly the same as before, cold enough most of the day but just a little too hot once noon set in. That’s what he thought the burning in his face was whenever they met. Afternoon heat.
“Oh. You just moved in, right? Cool. Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?”
He didn’t think much of the farmer when they first moved in. Sometimes he’d hear their footsteps crunching against the dirt from the window of his room, and sometimes when he was smoking by the lake, he’d see them coming out of the mines or worse, fishing. Bit of an oddball, was his impression, but he left it at that.
So, he and the farmer ended up bumping into each other a lot in those first few weeks of spring. The farmer had an odd fascination with the mines. Sebastian didn’t question it, not even when the farmer started to make small talk while night fishing by the lake, or when they gave him spare earth crystals from their excavations.
He had four of those earth crystals on his shelf now, they looked great scattered around the books like decorative pieces. They were always covered in so much dirt, but not nearly as much as the farmer’s face when they came out of the mines. It was a little cute.
Sebastian stopped in his tracks, the sound of chirping crickets almost overwhelming in the dead of night.
‘Ah, it was definitely that night with the ores.’ he thought. It was his hunch that it may have started a little before that, but he was sure of it now. It was when he saw them smiling, coming out of the mine entrance with dust and soot all over their clothes and face. Their eyes met, the embers of his cigarette glowing as he inhaled a little too deeply at the sight.
The farmer walked over to him with a smile back then and said hi. Sebastian nodded, too aware of the tightness clenching his heart like a vice.
“Guess what,” the excitement in their voice was obvious, Sebastian liked hearing it. That joyful lilt in their tone when they talked like that. He wondered what they would sound like singing, though he probably would have found it amusing whether they knew how or not.
“What?” Sebastian had asked.
“I finally have enough, take a look.” The farmer pulled out a large sack with clumps of shiny bronze colored rocks inside. “This is why I’ve been coming here so much.”
“Yeah? Congrats.” Was all he said, but he was so happy for them. Happier than he ever was for Maru when her contraption was accepted for an exhibit at Zuzu City, happier than he was for himself when he got his first freelance job as a programmer, happier than he should have been. It just felt good, knowing that the farmer, who amusingly, adorably, put so much effort into staying overnight in the mines every night, finally got what they needed. But of course, he didn’t let it show. The farmer put the heavy sack of ore down and mentioned “Still visiting the saloon on Fridays”.
Sebastian snuffed out his cigarette at that point, he ground the embers against an oak’s bark trunk. “What do you mean?”
“You know, coming out of the mines this late and stuff. I have enough ore so you get the idea.”
Sebastian was overcome with a kind of grief. It was strange. At some point he started enjoying waiting for the farmer to come out of those mines at night, he liked exchanging pleasantries, he liked seeing them come out sweaty, panting, yet satisfied with themselves, and he wasn’t going to have that anymore? It was too tragic, and he didn’t like that at all.It was unthinkable.
Sebastian did his best to conceal his disappointment, as much as he wanted to protest, as much as he wanted to say, “Come see me at least”, as much as it stung to let them leave knowing full well this little nighttime ritual of theirs was gone, he still waved goodbye with a smile.
It was only after the crunch of the farmer’s shoes faded that he ran a hand up his hair, sighing too harshly to be considered normal. He wished the farmer had a reason to keep coming up to the mountains, but it was granted very easily.
The farmer, bless their heart, left the sack of ore right there by the river. If the farmer were to realize it was gone, they would probably only realize tomorrow.
Sebastian smiled, maybe Yoba did exist after all. He tossed the sack right into the lake, the weight of the ores dragged it down to the very bottom where no one would ever find it. The only evidence that the farmer had left it there was the little indent the sack made in the dirt, but Sebastian had already cleared it out with his feet.
His conscience weighed on him a little bit, but he was overwhelmed by this gruesome excitement to see the farmer again.
And he did the very next night, they came out of the mines looking weary and dejected. The farmer didn’t even suspect Sebastian was to blame for the missing ores, they didn’t even remember that they forgot that huge sack of ores right at the spot they were having their conversation by the lake the night before. But Sebastian did, and somehow, it made him even happier knowing he was the reason the farmer still had to come up here, and still had a chance to see him every night.
Yes… definitely then. Sebastian smirked, a shudder of guilty pleasure shooting from his spine to his fingertips and toes.
It was dark out tonight, but Sebastian didn’t really have trouble navigating the mountain path that led to the farmer’s lot. He’d snuck his way there enough times to walk there with his eyes closed. When he finally arrived, seeing no light from the window, he smiled. Obviously they were asleep, it was three in the morning after all.
Sebastian opened the chest outside their home, it was silly of them to leave their valuables in storage chests outside, especially without a lock. But that carelessness, or foolish trust in others, was one of the thousands of things he loved about the farmer anyway, (and it made plotting things like this so much easier).
He rummaged through the chest, grabbed the iron axe from the wooden chest, and left everything else the way it was.
This time, he left the farm from the path towards the town square. He paused by the bus stop, studying the chips on the oak trunk he’d left there earlier today and struck them dead on. The tree rustled, bugs flew out of the branches, leaves fell on his face, but he kept striking. Cut. Cut. Cut.
The tree crashed onto the path, blocking the area that connected the farmer’s farm to the town square. Now he just had to sneak the axe into lost and found. He bit his lip, a slight flush across his cheeks, excited at the idea that the farmer would need to go through the mountain path tomorrow.