Ninte walked solemnly at her father’s side, a rusting shovel clutched in one hand, her head kept low as she glowered at the ground. In silence, they made their way through the village on their way to the crop fields. Ninte preferred taking the path that ran along the outer border of the village along the grove, as it was used far less frequently and almost always devoid of other villagers. Her father had not heeded her request, however, stating that it was a pointless waste of time and energy since it almost doubled the distance they had to walk to the crop fields.

Ninte reached up to adjust her shawl, ensuring it was clasped tightly in place. Because of her strange appearance, ever since she was a child, she had been shunned by those who lived nearby. When she was young, she had been bullied by the other children. Even their parents would join in when she passed, albeit less vocally, since they clearly shared their offspring’s distaste for her. In the past, this had angered her, and, on several occasions, having lashed out back at them out of frustration, she had caused a few incidents herself that had only served to make the villagers’ resentment - and perhaps fear - grow stronger. She had long since realized that changing their minds was a lost cause.

As they walked through the village, the bustle of activity ahead of them diminished somewhat as they approached. Two men chatting outside their homes lowered their voices to whispers and shot the pair sneering glances as they passed. Ninte kept her eyes down, glaring at the ground below her. A bit further ahead, she saw how a young mother ushered her children away from the path, so as not to stray too close.

“Pay them no mind, Ninte, they’re fools, the lot of them,” Adriyan said, nudging her gently with his elbow.

Before long, they reached the edge of the village and the houses and muddy ground that ran alongside the path gave way to lush grass and occasional oak trees that towered overhead. Adriyan started humming softly to himself. It was a familiar tune that Ninte recognized, and she soon joined him in his humming.

For a moment, the two of them walked along the path toward the crop fields, and as they hummed together the weight of the world seemed to melt away. The fresh air felt good in her lungs, and a warm breeze ruffled her hair and shawl, tickling the sides of her neck as it passed and leaving her skin raised with gooseflesh. Adriyan reached out and placed one arm across her shoulders, pulling her closer to him and forcing her to sway back and forth in time with their tune. She resisted at first, but the man was unrelenting and soon she was giggling and swaying along with him, an unfamiliar smile on her face.

The moment of happiness was short-lived. As the two of them approached the summit of a low hill they had been climbing, the crop fields came suddenly into view. Villagers were dotted around the fields, already hard at work, furthering the progress of the previous day. An old man with a snow-white beard that reached his chest and a bald patch shining through a haphazard comb-over on the top of his head was standing at the side of the road with a length of parchment in his hand. He had been chatting with another man who was standing in the field behind him, leaning heavily on a large three-pronged fork that had been driven into the fresh earth. He turned at the sound of their footsteps and immediately his smile fell away.

“Morning, where are we needed?” Asked Adriyan, a smile ever-present on his weathered face.

The man did not bother to look down at the parchment in his hand, he already knew where to send them. Adriyan knew too, as did Ninte, but he asked anyway and waited patiently for the response.

“Out yonder, far edge of this here field. You can work your way toward the rest.” The old man said, refusing to so much as look at Ninte.

Adriyan nodded and led Ninte onward. Some of the other villagers hard at work in the field stopped and stood for a moment as they passed, stretching their already aching backs and glowering at them as they passed. A boy only a few years older than Ninte spat a glob of phlegm noisily after them as they plodded along. He was the son of the neighboring blacksmith, Adon, who had been a thorn in Ninte’s side for as long as she could remember. Ninte felt a hint of anger now, deep within herself, and she looked up at her father, but Adriyan ignored the boy. ‘Almost there,’ he just said.

When they found themselves far enough away from the other villagers, Ninte relaxed somewhat as she set to work with her father, digging up and removing the green and yellow weeds that had sprouted up amongst the juvenile crops. The work was exhausting and made Ninte’s back stiff and sore, but it provided a welcome distraction for her troubled mind. While performing the monotonous task, she tried to shake off the dark images from the previous night, but try as she might, they lingered on. Adriyan, sensing her unease, began humming once more, hoping to entice her to join him as she had on the walk up, but without the distraction of walking, Ninte found her mind always wandering back to her nightmares and the strange woman who had greeted her.

Together they worked for hours, Adriyan humming idly as the sun rose high above, leaving their backs slick with sweat and their mouths dry. A small cart drawn by an old mule periodically made its way around to the workers. It carried a large barrel of water bound with two strips of dull bronze for the workers to drink from using a long wooden ladle that hung over the side of the barrel. The cart, although meant for all who were working in the crop fields, never seemed to make it as far as Ninte and her father. They struggled without it for as long as they could, but eventually, their parched tongues could hold out no longer and they drove their shovels into the soil to mark their place and made the short trek to the water cart.

They had waited until the nearby workers drank their fill and arrived quietly. Adriyan reached over and scooped a ladleful of water from the barrel, handing it to Ninte who took it gratefully. She had just raised it to her lips to drink when she heard a hissing voice next to her, just loud enough for her and Adriyan to hear.

“Must you drink from our water?”

It was the neighbors’ son Adon, who had spat at them when they had first arrived in the field. Ninte lowered the ladle and looked around, suddenly self-conscious but also angry. “And why wouldn’t I?” she said, looking him straight in the eyes now.

Adriyan softly put a hand on Ninte’s shoulder. He looked at the boy. “Why don’t you leave us be, boy. There is no reason to cause trouble,” Adriyan said, allowing Ninte to take a breath.

The boy looked around the field for a moment and then raised his voice. “I was just asking her why she must drink from our water. I don’t want her curse to spread to my family. The Gods have been cruel enough to our village, barely granting us enough yield from the last harvest to survive the year.” He paused for a second. “What even is she? Looking like she does. What is she hiding underneath that shawl?”

Some of the surrounding villagers had stopped their work and turned to stare at them.

“She has been working as hard as the rest of us. And this water is for those working the crop fields, is it not?” Adriyan asked, before turning to his daughter. “Go ahead Ninte, drink up.”

Ninte could feel eyes boring into her from all around. She wanted nothing else than to throw the ladle to Adon’s head, but she restrained herself if nothing else than to avoid causing her father more problems. She took a drink instead.

“Now leave us be, boy,” he said to Adon. And this time it was clear he meant it.

Adon grunted and hocked another mouthful of phlegm, spitting it toward them with a scowl when he walked away.

Adriyan took the empty ladle back from Ninte to take a drink of his own and waited until Adon had left. “Why don’t you head back to the homestead and check on the mare,” he said to Ninte when he had slaked his thirst, wiping his mouth with a grubby hand and leaving a grimy trail along one cheek.

“Are you sure?” Ninte asked, trying not to let the relief flush across her tired face.

“I’m sure. I’ll be along later. For now, you go and make sure the old girl is alright.”

Ninte did not need much convincing. Raising on her tiptoes she kissed her father's cheek before jogging away, doing her best to ignore the other workers on the field. Upon arriving back at the village, she took the scenic route around the throng of houses. Keeping close to the village edge she made her way swiftly back home in the shadows of the grove, managing to avoid any further interactions.

Arriving at her parents' meager homestead, she circled around and went straight for their barn, which housed the pregnant mare. She was in no mood to deal with her mother's snide comments, and when she drew close to the barn the sound of labored breathing made her glad of her choice. Bursting in through the cracked and rotting wooden door she found their stallion, Veynar, snorting anxiously and scraping at the hay-strewn floor with his hooves. The cause of his apprehension was no mystery. The mare heavily pregnant with Veynar’s foal was lying to one side of the barn breathing laboriously. She whinnied weakly as Ninte approached and her brown coat was glossy and damp with sweat.

Ninte brushed strands of matted mane away from the mare's eyes and gently stroked its muzzle, whispering reassurances as she did so. The troubled horse did not ease at her touch, as a violent shiver racked its body. Unsure of what else to do, Ninte rested one hand against the mare’s neck, feeling the beat of its heart as blood rushed through thick veins beneath the skin underneath her fingers. There she closed her eyes and expanded her consciousness in an attempt to reach out to the struggling mare.

Ninte had never tried to use her ability with an animal so large, and in the past, she had only ever done it by accident when trying to help small creatures she’d found lying injured in the grove. Still, Ninte was determined to help the mare and forced herself to relax as she focused on matching her breathing with the mare. Slowly, and with her eyes still tightly closed, a swirl of silver light appeared in Ninte’s vision. It looked like silver dust caught in the breeze, and it danced before her like a whirlwind before bunching up into a bright ball and exploding outward until it surrounded her like dust in a shard of sunlight.

Cautiously opening her eyes, Ninte looked over the mare and barely managed to stifle a gasp. The animal was coated in the silver dust, but now there was far more to see. When she had used her ability in the past, the animals around had been so small that they simply glowed like scurrying lanterns. With a creature as large as a horse, Ninte saw clearly for the first time. It was as if she could see inside the horse itself, and bright tendrils of light that seemed to pulse in time with the mare's heartbeat shone through its coat and flesh. Smiling in awe of the beauty before her, Ninte scanned the mare and saw the bright cluster of light emanating from its belly that alluded to the presence of the foal.

“Hush now,” Ninte whispered, sending her own calm energy through the frightened animal. “Your foal is fine and I’m here for you. Hush now, rest, it will be born soon.”

And as she spoke, she felt the mare relax. The beast’s breathing slowed, and her heartbeat turned from erratic to steady. Ninte smiled, pleased that the mare was safe and proud of what she had just accomplished. She gently removed her hand from the horse's neck.

Suddenly the calm barn was gone. Thunder crashed outside and a hoarse whinny cut through the pounding of rain that could now be heard against the barn’s walls and roof. Ninte stumbled backwards, blind in the sudden darkness until her back pressed against a damp wall. Lightning flashed, lighting the room with an ephemeral cold, white light that flickered briefly through the open door clattering against the outside wall in the wind. The light lasted only a moment, but it revealed a scene that made Ninte scream in shock. Laying before her was the body of her beloved mare unmoving and drenched in blood. Next to it was the foal’s lifeless body in a shapeless pile on the ground, tongue lolling from its tiny mouth.

Thunder boomed overhead and suddenly she was back in the serene barn once more. Birds chirped outside and the sun's warm light lit the area reassuringly. Ninte was still pressed up against the wall, a trembling hand covering her mouth, suppressing a scream. She glanced around and found the mare, sleeping soundly where she had been left only moments ago. There was no sign of blood or death, or even a storm in the air.

Exhausted, Ninte let her body slide down the wall, ending up in a sitting position on the barn floor. There she sat for a long time, crying softly, trying to fathom what it was that she had seen.