The Secrets of The Tower

"Tan!" Her father's shout from across the field made her jump. He was leaning on his hoe, glaring at her. "Quit your day-dreaming and get back to work."

"Sorry, paipai," she called back." She hefted the hoe and brought it back down into the dark red soil with a satisfying thunk. Her Paipai was correct, of course. There was no point in daydreaming when they had work to do. If they didn't get the crop of calina seeds into the fields before the rains began, there would be no crops to harvest by the autumn and no food to tide them over for the winter.

Tan was not yet old enough to go hunting with her brothers, so she was stuck on field duty with her father and the other farm hands. If she was lucky, she'd get a year, maybe two of hunting before her mother would bring her into the farmhouse, stick her in the kitchen and then they'd find her a husband and pack her off to another farmhouse where she would have children and run a house until it was her time to pass beyond the veil and meet the Great Goddess Shanter in the afterlife.

She bubbled with resentment but also despair. What else could she do? What was there? This was life. And yet... she kept hoeing, but risked at a glance out of the corner of her eye at the Tower in the distance.

All of them dwelt within sight of the Tower. The Baron would sometimes talk about building an even grander palace for himself, but everyone knew it was just talk. No one knew what the Tower was made of, but it wasn't stone. No one wanted to get close enough to find out for sure. And it was high. Impossibly high. No one could see the top of it.

People did their best to ignore it. Most just assumed it was an enchanted tower and got on with life. The Tower, whether it was magic or not, had yet to grow a single calina seed and people needed to eat. No one could afford to go climbing all over The Tower to figure out what secrets it held. It had always been there and it would always be there.

Tan soon fell into the rhythm of her work and forgot about The Tower. Soon, the suns were dipping toward the horizon and her mother was ringing the bell for supper and they were all riding the wagon back across the fields in the gathering dark. Her brothers had returned from the hunt, she saw as she reached the house. That meant there would be plenty of meat on the table tonight.

"Tanala!" Her mother called to her from the kitchen "You get yourself cleaned up and then you come back down here. I need your help peeling jorlaja root for dinner."

"Yes, maimai," Tan replied and she trudged up the stairs toward the washroom. She scrubbed her hands and her face before stepping into her room and changing out of her coverall and into a simple dress, this one a deep shade of violet that was almost the same color as serenda flowers, her favorite. She headed back downstairs to the kitchen and her mother pointed at the two pots on the sturdy wooden table, one full of jorlaja root, the other empty and waiting for the peels. Wordlessly, her mother handed her the peeler and she set to work.

Soon enough they were all sitting down at the long table in the main hall. Her father, her mother, her brothers, all the farm hands and maids and other house servants. As soon as the last tray was placed on the table, her father stood and spread his hands for silence. Heads bowed as he began the blessing:

"Great Goddess Shanter, we thank you for the fruits of our labors here on our table. We ask for your blessings in the planting season ahead and we thank you for all of us being here around this table. In Shanter's name,"

And they all said, "Kalfi."

Then, a cacophony erupted as platters were passed around. Slices of restrier were being placed on plates next to the mashed jorlaja root. Hasperat gravy was passed around and soon enough, all had food and all were tucking into their meal at long last. Then, Tan did what she always did: made herself as inconspicuous as possible so she could pick up as much gossip as she could.