Chapter 1
I still couldn’t believe that Spring had already passed.
It hadn’t just slipped by.
It had… shifted things.
Summer light poured through the window—brighter, heavier somehow—settling on my skin even after I sat up. It should’ve felt like a fresh start.
Instead, it felt quieter.
When I stepped outside, the air moved slower, thicker, like the valley had exhaled and decided to rest. For a moment, I just stood there, taking it in—the warmth, the stillness.
Spring had been anything but that.
I looked over my field. The strawberry plants had already wilted, their leaves dry and curling inward. Not dead—just finished. Their time had passed.
I stepped forward and cleared them with my scythe. The stems gave way easily, brittle under the blade.
No disaster. No loss.
Just the season moving on.
I paused, resting the scythe against my shoulder.
A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Crops in, crops out. Profit, efficiency, repeat.
Now…
Now it felt different.
Like every ending carried a bit more weight than it used to.
I shook the thought off and moved to the edge of the field, digging out a space for the orange sapling. It took a bit more care than the rest—something that would stay, not just cycle out with the season. I pressed the soil back in gently, making sure it sat right.
“Grow well,” I muttered, more out of habit than anything.
Then I turned back to the field, scattering fertilizer across the soil before planting the melon seeds near the scarecrow. The motions came naturally—plant, cover, water—but I didn’t rush through them this time.
The ground was warm under my hands.
Steady.
Reliable.
I straightened, looking over the small patch of fresh soil.
“Hm…” I murmured. “Could use a bit more.”
Not urgency.
Just… room to grow.
I stopped by Pierre’s, catching Gus and Marnie near the counter as I picked up some Blueberry Seeds.
“Hello, Eric!” Pierre called. “Our strawberry harvest was a success! Not bad for an upstart farmer. Let’s hope the blueberries turn out just as well!”
“Yeah…” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “Though I think Gus deserves most of the credit for that. The last week of Spring was… a lot.”
Gus laughed. “Hey now, don’t sell yourself short! Those strawberries were a great investment. I got more than my money’s worth out of them.”
Marnie nodded. “Same here. I used my eggs for the cakes—took a lot to get the hens laying that well, but it paid off.”
Pierre folded his arms with a smug grin. “Sounds like you’ve made quite the impression around here.”
I smiled but didn’t quite know what to do with that.
A season ago, no one here even knew my name.
“Well, I’ve still got fields to tend,” I said, stepping back. “Summer’s not going to wait on me.”
I left before the conversation could stretch any further.
Back on the farm, I worked the soil into neat rows, planting the blueberry seeds where they’d catch the most sun. The motions came easier now—less guesswork, more instinct. Nearby, I scattered wild seeds into another patch, letting them grow however they wanted.
It wasn’t perfect.
But it felt like progress.
I then went down, waved at Elliot—who was staring out over the water in Cindersap Forest—and headed to the Beach for some quick fishing. My Pickaxe was getting upgraded, and for the first time in a while, I wasn’t in a rush to go back underground.
The sound of waves was easier on the ears than stone collapsing in the dark.
I saw Willy fishing near his shop. I took my rod out and caught 2 Red Mullets and a Tuna. The Tuna had 10 bait pieces, 1 doll, and 2 geodes attached to it, and was a real challenge to get. Good thing—it was one of the Community Center offerings I needed.
I saw Elliot arrive at the Beach, where he approached me and Willy.
“Howdy, Eric,” Elliot exclaimed. “How is fishing going for you?”
“Got my first Tuna,” I said.
That got Willy’s attention.
“Ah! Tuna! Those fish are really tough for beginners, so good on you reelin’ one out!” Willy called.
I nodded.
“I heard the Trout Derby is coming soon,” Elliot chimed in.
“Yep! On the 20th and 21st of Summer!” Willy bellowed. “Fishermen from across the valley comin’ in for Rainbow Trout! You in, Eric?”
I drifted for a second—sunlight on water, gulls overhead—then snapped back.
“Oh! Uh… yeah. Could do with more fishing this month. I spent most of Spring in the mines. This feels… different.”
Willy laughed.
“You might even see some peculiar folks! Heard the fishing sisters show up regular for these Derbies!”
“Fishing Sisters!” Elliot echoed.
“Yep!” Willy smiled. “Two young lasses—famous for their skill. Caught more legendary fish than most old-timers.”
“Sounds cool,” I said. “I should get going. See you.”
I left him some wood to repair the beach bridge.
The Saloon was quieter than usual—Pam at her usual spot, Gus behind the counter, Emily and Clint nearby. Shane wasn’t immediately visible.
“Huh. Shane’s gone… again?” I asked.
“He’s here.”
The voice came from behind me—flat, familiar.
I turned to see him leaning against the wall near the door, arms crossed.
“Oh—didn’t see you,” I said.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “That’s kind of the point.”
He pushed off the wall and stepped past me, not quite brushing my shoulder this time.
“Move.”
I stepped aside.
Same tone. Same Shane.
…just not as sharp.
“Eric! Have a seat!” Gus called. I took a chair near the counter. “How’s your first day of Summer treating you?”
“Fine,” I said. “Did some fishing instead of mining.”
Gus raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Change of pace.”
“I heard the Trout Derby’s coming up,” I added. “Willy mentioned it.”
“Ah, the fishing sisters!” Gus said. “Hard to believe how young they are with what they’ve caught.”
“Maybe I’ll give them some competition,” I said.
Pam snorted. “Wish I’d gotten into fishing earlier. These old bones don’t like the cold water anymore.”
Gus chuckled. Emily leaned in slightly.
“I hope you’re treating the fish with kindness,” she said softly. “Every living being deserves respect—even those of the sea.”
“I mostly sell them,” I said. “Not eat them.”
Emily smiled. “I thought so.”
“You could smoke fish someday,” Gus added. “Good money in that. Bit outta reach for now, though.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” I said.
There was a brief lull—just the sound of mugs shifting, quiet conversation, the hum of the room settling.
Then—
“You still going down there?”
I blinked and turned.
Shane hadn’t moved from his spot at the counter, but he was looking at me now.
“The mines,” he added, like it wasn’t obvious.
“Uh… yeah,” I said. “Just taking a break while my pickaxe gets upgraded.”
He gave a short nod.
“Good.”
I waited.
He didn’t elaborate—just took a sip, eyes drifting away like the conversation was already over.
“…Good?” I repeated.
He exhaled through his nose, annoyed at being made to explain.
“You go too often, you start thinking it’s the only thing that matters,” he said. “It isn’t.”
I frowned slightly. “You’ve been down there?”
“Not the mines,” he said. “Something else.”
A beat.
“Same idea.”
He set his drink down harder than necessary.
“Point is—pace it. Or it’ll chew you up and you won’t even notice.”
It didn’t sound like advice, but a warning he’d learned the hard way.
“…Got it,” I said.
He shrugged, already retreating.
“Do what you want.”
But he didn’t sound like he meant that.
I stood after a moment. “Alright. I’ll see you all around.”
Gus and Emily waved—Emily with that same easy warmth.
As I headed for the door, I glanced back.
Shane wasn’t looking at me anymore.
But he wasn’t ignoring me, either.
The night air felt different.
Warmer than Spring, but not heavy—just enough to settle in your lungs and stay there. The kind of warmth that didn’t rush you.
I took the long way back from the Saloon, passing by the edge of town where the sounds thinned out into crickets and distant water.
For once, I wasn’t thinking about the mines.
No stone walls. No ladders. No constant push to go deeper, faster, farther.
Just the rhythm of the waves from earlier, the pull of the line, the quiet stretch of time between casts.
Fishing hadn’t felt like progress.
But it hadn’t felt like failure either.
Just… space.
I exhaled slowly.
Maybe that was the point.
Shane’s voice lingered in the back of my mind.
“You go too often, you start thinking it’s the only thing that matters.”
I hadn’t noticed it happening—but he was right.
The mines had a way of narrowing everything down until it was the only thing left.
I kicked a small stone along the path, watching it skip ahead in uneven hops.
Strange.
Of all people, Shane was the one who pointed it out.
I thought back to the way he said it—half-dismissive, like he didn’t care, but still said it anyway.
And earlier… the tuna.
He didn’t have to say anything.
But he did.
I let out a quiet breath.
Guess people don’t just change all at once.
Sometimes it’s just… smaller things.
A word here. A warning there.
Not softer.
Just… less distant.
The farmhouse came into view, dim against the night.
Spring had felt like something I had to survive—figure out, keep up with, push through.
Summer didn’t feel like that.
Not yet, anyway.
It felt slower.
Wider.
Like I didn’t have to chase everything all at once.
I rested my hand on the door for a moment before heading inside.
Maybe that wouldn’t last.
But for now…
That was enough.
