Writing Stardew Valley Fan Novel Series
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Gamer1234556
Farmhand
Chapter 7.5 – Emily
It felt like today was going to be another day.Another shift at the Saloon, another evening of wiping counters, smiling through Pam’s rants, managing Shane’s mood swings.
At least Eric’s company usually made things tolerable.
But ever since the mines opened, he'd been avoiding me.
People said he was involved in an accident, but Shane kept brushing it off as if it was nothing.
I wanted to check on him… but every time I tried, something pulled me back.
Work.
Customers.
Shane’s jealous looks.
And now it was Lewis’s birthday — normally a cheerful night — but even that felt strangely heavy today.
Gus had baked a small chocolate cake — he kept glancing at it from the back kitchen, waiting for enough people to arrive so the moment wouldn’t feel awkward.
The smell drifted through the Saloon, warm and sweet.
Under different circumstances, it would’ve made me smile.
Instead, it only tightened the uneasy knot in my stomach.
Gus tried. He really did.
“Hey, uh…” he began gently. “You doing alright, Lewis? The cake’s on the house tonight, if you want it early.”
Lewis exhaled like the air itself had weight.
“No… I’m not hungry.”
Gus paused mid–glass wipe.
That was bad.
Lewis always humoured Gus on birthdays, even when things were rough.
“It must be rough," Gus said quietly, “having to trust your best friend’s kid with the… mess you inherited.”
Lewis didn’t look up.
“I thought I was ready for this job,” he murmured. “It was either me or George. And nobody liked George.”
Gus’s shoulders slumped in sympathy.
“Yeah… this town isn’t easy to lead. Not when you’ve got no support.”
Lewis swallowed.
“I really thought trusting Joja would help. But now they’re pushing me again — pressing me to sell them the Community Center.”
A cold shiver ran down my spine.
Joja never stopped.
Once they got a foothold, they just kept digging.
Gus clenched his jaw.
“Yep. That sounds exactly like them.”
Lewis rubbed his face, exhausted.
You could almost see the emotional gears turning — frustration sliding into guilt, then slipping into fear.
“I feel like I gave Eric an impossible task,” he said quietly. “I showed him the Community Center, and he told me he saw… green cubes. Floating.”
He shook his head. “I thought he hit his head too hard in the mines, but the way he reacted… it seemed real.”
Gus blinked.
“Green cubes?”
I felt the air leave my lungs.
No one ever believed me when I talked about things like that.
Especially Shane.
He always rolled his eyes, muttered something about “hippie nonsense,” and changed the subject.
But Lewis?
Lewis wasn’t the type to invent things.
“He kept insisting,” Lewis continued. “And then, after he said it, he changed. Like he was hiding something.”
The sweet smell of the birthday cake shifted in the air again as Gus moved it closer to the counter, hopeful.
It did nothing to calm me.
If anything, it made the dread heavier.
Eric… what happened to you?
Gus tried to brush it off.
“Maybe Eric’s just stressed. Or tired. And the Wizard? Come on, he’s just some cranky old hermit who plays with potions. I doubt he’s doing anything suspicious.”
But Lewis didn’t nod.
He stared at the counter like it held the truth.
“I don’t know,” he whispered. “But I… really hope Eric didn’t meet the Wizard.”
My heart stalled.
Lewis believed it.
Actually believed it.
Even Gus went still.
Lewis rubbed his temple.
“Whenever I’m around that man, it feels like he already knows it’s too late for Pelican Town. Like I already signed its death warrant.”
I glanced toward the Saloon door — reflexive, anxious.
Shane’s shift ended twenty minutes ago.
He’d walk in soon.
And when he did, he'd see me listening to this, absorbing this, worrying about Eric again.
I swallowed.
Please don’t come in yet.
Please.
Lewis straightened a little, trying to salvage the mood.
“At least Eric gave me a daffodil for my birthday,” he said with a weak smile, “Can’t go wrong with those.”
I actually felt myself smile softly.
Well… at least that part of him hasn’t changed.
But the knot in my stomach was still there.
Tightening.
Waiting for the door to swing open and Shane to storm in.
First Pam, then Leah, then Willy, then Harvey.
Then… Shane.
My whole body went cold. I kept my smile fixed in place, but inside, something twisted tight.
Gus practically vibrated with excitement.
“Right! Everyone is here! Let’s all come along for Lewis’s fifty-first birthday!” he said, lifting the cake we’d worked on since morning. I held the platter with him, the sugary scent drifting up between us. The warm smell should’ve soothed me — that buttery sweetness we’d saved as a surprise for Lewis — but instead it only tightened the knot in my stomach.
And then the chorus began.
“Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday to our dear Mayor!
Happy birthday to you!
May dear Yoba bless you…”
I tried to feel happy. I wanted to. But I couldn’t. Not with Shane standing there, grumpy and unpredictable, and my nerves as thin as paper.
As the customers gathered around, Shane’s expression softened — barely — when he eyed the cake.
“Hey, Emily,” he said. “How’s it going?”
I exhaled. “It’s fine, Shane.”
“You know, this cake used a ton of eggs. From Marnie’s ranch. I really put my all into raising those hens.”
For a moment, it felt like I was talking to the Shane I wished he could be — steady, thoughtful, a version of him I sometimes believed still existed.
“Oh! You never told me that,” I said, happy to talk about anything neutral.
“Yeah… I was… I was a bit bitter these past few days because of endless shifts at Joja, but now I can finally breathe.”
Across the room, Lewis pierced his slice of cake with mechanical precision, face unreadable. The whole scene felt fragile, like one wrong sound could break it.
And then Shane mentioned Eric.
“You know the best thing about this? I don’t have to see that farmer again. I can finally spend time with you. Isn’t that great—”
And then it all shattered.
The door swung open and chilly night air swept in — along with Eric, holding an eel like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“W-what?” Shane stammered.
“Help Wanted stuff,” I muttered, sinking behind my hands.
Eric stepped forward. “Leah, your seaweed. Willy, your eel.”
The timing was so painfully absurd, I wanted to disappear behind the counter.
Shane laughed, but it was brittle. “Could you… not have chosen a better time for this?”
Harvey tried asking Eric about his injuries, but Leah quickly dragged him off with a glare. Eric grabbed a piece of cake, ate silently, then left. Just like that. Not a word to me.
“Huh. That’s odd,” Shane chuckled. “I thought he’d have more to say.”
Shane’s eyes flicked toward me, and my stomach tightened.
I knew that look.
I knew what was coming.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me. I know it’s something.”
Gus glanced over, worried. Pam looked seconds away from shouting. The air felt sharp, heavy.
Then Shane’s voice rose.
“Please don’t… please don’t tell me you developed feelings for him.”
He stepped forward like he might grab my arm — but Gus intercepted sharply.
“Shane, that’s enough.”
Shane blinked, shocked.
“You need to lower your voice. She’s at work, and you’re upsetting her. If you need to talk, do it outside — and do it respectfully.”
Shane’s jaw clenched. “You don’t know him like you think you do… Just stop hanging around him, okay? I don’t like it.”
He grumbled something under his breath and slunk back to his corner.
The party noise resumed, but everything felt off-kilter, hollow.
“Emily,” Gus called gently from behind me.
I turned. He was standing in the doorway of the Saloon, the warm light spilling out behind him.
“Sorry about what happened with Shane,” he said. “That was unacceptable of him to treat you like that.”
I stared at the ground. “It’s alright…”
“It’s not,” he said softly.
The sympathy in his voice made something tighten in my chest.
“You really didn’t want to be in this relationship, did you?”
I let out a long, tired sigh.
“Marnie approached me once… She said Shane had been depressed for days, and that having me as his dance partner — maybe even a temporary girlfriend — would cheer him up.”
Gus’s expression darkened with guilt.
“And instead,” I whispered, “it feels like he turned me into his therapist.”
He nodded slowly, eyes full of understanding.
“I think I can see why you reacted the way you did tonight. I wasn’t sure at first… but it’s starting to make sense.”
I blinked. “What do you mean?”
“You’re someone who listens to everyone else’s troubles,” Gus said gently. “But I don’t think anyone ever stops to listen to yours.”
He folded his arms, thoughtful.
“And someone like Eric… well, he does. He works hard — too hard, probably — but he truly means well. I can see why that matters to you.”
The words hit too close. My throat tightened.
I wanted to cry. I really did.
But I couldn’t. Not yet. Not standing here.
“If you want,” Gus offered softly, “I can talk to him. Let him know how you’re feeling.”
I shook my head, barely managing a breath.
“I don’t think that’s necessary. I… have a feeling he’ll come back on his own.”
Gus considered this, then nodded. “Alright. I hope it works out for you, Emily. Truly.”
He gave me a small wave before heading back inside.
I walked home.
The house felt too quiet without his voice — like the silence itself was pressing against my chest.
And then the tears came.
Eric… you aren’t talking to me.
Can you tell me what is going on?
I feel like I’m drowning here.
You’re the only one who listens.
Eric… I need you.
I don’t know why….
Stop pushing me away…
Gamer1234556
Farmhand
Chapter 8
It’s been about a week since I first moved to Stardew Valley.Yet somehow it felt like I’d been here for months—like I knew more than I should, more than anybody was saying aloud.
I woke up to the rooster crowing again. Please let that be a good omen.
I glanced at the two geodes sitting in my chest.
Might as well take them to Clint today.
Weather: Sunny
Spirits: Happy
Good start.
Living Off the Land:
Let’s talk fences! Fences are useful for keeping weeds at bay…
My potatoes were ready—no silver or gold stars, unfortunately.
I checked the mail.
Hi.
Me sell hats. Okay, poke?
Come to old old old haus, poke. Bring coines.
—hat mouse
Right. This valley really is full of strange characters nobody talks about.
Another letter:
Robin here!
I know there’s a lot of stone scattered around your farm…
At least her voice was reassuring. Too bad I couldn’t tell her anything about yesterday.
I watered the rest of the crops.
Evelyn was asking for herring on the “Help Wanted” board.
I had other priorities—mostly finding a leek to finish the Spring Foraging bundle. The daffodil, horseradish, and dandelion were ready in my pack. Just one leek left.
Luckily, I found one east of the mountains.
I returned to the Community Center, offered the four items, and read the golden scroll. A soft glow washed over the room, and a bundle of spring seeds appeared at my feet—thirty in total.
Then something else happened:
Two other plaques lit up, and two new golden scrolls faded into view—Crops and Fish.
A yellow Junimo toddled out, collected the foraging bundle, and carried it into a tiny hut in the corner.
Still surreal.
Back at the farm, I planted the thirty seeds in a neat 10x3 grid.
When I returned to town square, Harvey was taking a break. Vincent was hiding in a bush. Jodi and a green-haired woman were chatting.
“Oh! Hello, Eric!” Jodi waved. “Have you met Caroline yet?”
“Er… no.”
“This is Caroline—Pierre’s wife and my best friend.”
We shook hands. They went back to gossiping about their kids.
Evelyn hummed to herself as she trimmed flowers.
Maru was sitting at the bench; we exchanged a wave.
I checked the Blacksmith shop.
Closed at 4 PM.
Of course. Too late.
I sighed and went to Gunther, donating quartz, amethyst, topaz, and earth crystals.
“Try to be more careful down in the mines,” he warned. “Several government and Joja workers went down there but never came back. Let’s hope you aren’t one of them.”
I nodded. He said something else under his breath—something about the Wizard—but I couldn’t catch it.
Outside, I spotted Maru chatting with Penny near the clinic steps. Penny stood with her hands folded in front of her, listening more than speaking, like usual.
“Hey, ever think about taking a break from teaching?” Maru teased.
“No, I actually enjoy working with kids!” Penny answered, smiling but soft.
They noticed me approaching.
“Oh! Hey, Eric,” Maru called. Penny gave a small, polite wave — the kind of wave meant for someone she wasn’t sure she knew well enough yet. “How’s the mineral collecting?”
“Pretty good. I dropped off some of the common ones at the museum.”
“Good call. Amethyst’s the real winner—Emily loves it, Abby too, and Clint.”
“Emily told me. The Abby part surprised me.”
Maru grinned. “There’s a joke that she eats the stuff.”
I laughed despite myself.
“Topaz is nice for dresses — Emily uses it. Earth Crystals and Quartz are better for crafting. Mayonnaise Machines, sprinklers… all that.”
As I spoke, Penny stayed quiet, eyes dipping down toward her shoes like she didn’t want to interrupt. Maru nudged her gently with an elbow.
“What about you, Penny? You like minerals?”
Penny startled a little, as if she hadn’t expected to be part of the conversation.
“Oh—um, Emeralds and Diamonds!” she said quickly. “But those seem hard to find.”
“You can get them,” I reassured. “They’re just… deep.”
“Ah.” Her smile was small, almost shyly grateful.
There was a pause — not awkward, just soft — the kind that fit Penny’s calmness more than any kind of silence from me.
I said goodbye and headed toward the Saloon.
Emily brightened the moment I stepped inside—like she’d been holding her breath all evening, waiting for me to appear.
“Ah! Hey, Eric!”
“Hey.”
Before I could say anything else, Gus leaned over the counter with a grin.
“Emily’s been worried about you. Says you’ve been avoiding her!”
I froze.
Avoiding her?
I’d been avoiding everyone, but hearing it said aloud landed heavier than I expected.
“Oh… really?”
Emily’s hands fidgeted at her waist, the excitement in her expression dimming.
“Well… I heard you fainted in the mines, and I got stressed out,” she admitted. “I thought I wouldn’t see you again.”
“Really?”
I hadn’t imagined she’d think about it past the moment it happened.
“It wasn’t that bad,” I muttered. “Just went too deep.”
But Emily wasn’t letting me off that easily.
“Then you stopped talking to me.”
Her voice was softer now, but sharper too.
“During Lewis’s birthday… you came in, dropped off your deliveries, grabbed cake, and left. You didn’t even look at me.”
I winced.
That was true.
But at the time all I could think about was the Wizard, the Junimos, and Lewis collapsing under the weight of running this town.
“That wasn’t about you,” I said quickly. “It’s… complicated.”
Emily stepped a little closer.
“And I thought I finally met someone to whom I could talk. Someone who wasn’t just… passing through my life. And then you go and put yourself in extreme danger.”
That hit harder than I expected.
She’d really been thinking about this.
“Emily… I made a mistake,” I said. “I should’ve been more careful. I didn’t faint in the mines, I just… spent too long down there and collapsed on the way home.”
I scratched my cheek. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
She breathed out slowly, some of her tension leaving—but not all.
“Still… you have to take care of yourself,” she said quietly. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”
There it was again.
Simple, unfiltered concern.
She didn’t ask what I’d been doing. Didn’t press. Didn’t judge.
Just cared.
“I’ll be careful,” I said. “Promise.”
Her shoulders finally relaxed.
Then she perked up a little.
“Oh! Have you met my sister Haley yet?”
“No. Alex mentioned her though.”
Emily rolled her eyes. “I keep telling her to say hi to you, but she won’t listen. It’s been a week! She drives me nuts sometimes.”
I shrugged. “Some people are harder to warm up to.”
“True,” she sighed. “But she’s my sister. I just… want to be a good example.”
There was a sadness there I hadn’t noticed before.
Before I could respond, the door slammed open.
Pam stormed in, Shane trailing behind her like a shadow.
“Hey Gus! Back for more!” Pam hollered.
She glanced at me. “Oh, hey Eric! Thought you didn’t wanna talk to us anymore!”
I lowered my gaze. “Just had a lot happen this week.”
“You mean mining? Careful down there! One wrong move and bam, you’re dead!”
Emily’s expression tightened instantly—Pam had voiced the exact fear she’d been suppressing.
And suddenly it felt obvious:
Emily hadn’t been overreacting.
She actually cared.
Maybe more than she should.
And maybe more than I realized.
“I gotta go,” I said. “See you.”
“Remember the promise, Eric!” Emily called after me—smiling now but still watching me like she wasn’t convinced I wouldn’t keel over the second I left the building.
I nodded.
As I turned toward the door, Shane’s eyes flicked up.
Not anger.
Not annoyance.
Resentment.
And something bitter underneath it.
Maybe envy.
Outside, I spotted Leah.
“Hey, Leah. Heading to the Saloon?”
“Nah, got some projects to work on.”
“Oh.”
She glanced toward the trees. “This area’s beautiful. If you stick around, I’ll show you what I’ve been carving.”
I nodded.
“Hey—why’d you become a farmer?”
“I made a promise to my grandfather. I hated my old city life and wanted out. Nothing fancy.”
She smiled faintly. “I get that. I left the city too. Broke up with my boyfriend and came here to reconnect with nature.”
That caught me off guard.
“You had a boyfriend?”
“Yeah. It felt like he didn’t really value my work. He liked the idea of me being creative. Not the reality of it.”
There was something bitter in the way she said it.
I hesitated. “I broke up with my girlfriend before coming here too.”
Leah looked up. “Really?”
“Yeah. We worked together. I started noticing things. Late nights. Closed-door meetings that didn’t need to be closed-door.” I gave a humorless shrug. “Probably another co-worker climbing the ladder.”
“You never found out?”
“No.” I paused. “Didn’t want to.”
Leah studied me for a moment, like she almost wanted to say something more.
“Oh—” she glanced at the sky. “I’ve got to go. See you around, okay?”
And just like that, she was gone.
Up in the mountains, I saw Sebastian leaving the house as Robin and Demetrius talked.
“Hey Sebastian!” Demetrius called. “You been talking to Eric lately?”
Sebastian ignored him entirely.
“Hey! Don’t ignore me—”
Robin sighed. “Just give him time! He won’t warm up in a week.”
“Well, he could at least say hi! If Maru can do it—”
“I know, Demetrius. I’m working on it.”
They noticed me.
“Oh! Sorry you heard that,” Robin laughed nervously. “Going to the Community Center?”
“Yeah. Lewis showed it to me.”
I wanted to mention the Wizard. Couldn’t.
“It’d be great if you fixed it up. It’s been abandoned forever.”
I wonder why…
Demetrius chimed in, “Maru helps me with research sometimes. Glad you two get along.”
Robin shot him an exasperated look.
“I’m heading to the mines,” I said.
“It’s 7 PM, Eric. Be careful,” Robin warned.
“Probably don’t go too deep,” Demetrius agreed.
“Yeah, I’ve been catching up with people. Lost track of time.”
“Well, good thing you’re talking to us now!” Robin said. “Dinner time! See you.”
I only reached level 12 before nerves made me turn back. Still got good copper, though.
The last two days had felt like an earthquake—a shift in tone, a sense that trust was… limited.
But today was different. Lighter.
Talking to Maru, Emily, Robin—actually feeling seen again—helped more than I expected.
Penny didn’t say much, but she always seemed like more of a listener than a talker anyway.
Here’s hoping tomorrow stays on this track.
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Cuddlebug
Farmer
That's "Living of the Land" btw...
Hope, you don't get this poor guy into a love triangle
Gamer1234556
Farmhand
Yeah, thanks for reminding me lol. I get the two mixed up.That's "Living of the Land" btw...
Hope, you don't get this poor guy into a love triangle
Gamer1234556
Farmhand
Chapter 9
I woke to a bright, quiet morning — too quiet.No rooster again. Just sunlight and stillness, like the valley was pretending nothing strange had happened yesterday.
Weather: Clear
Spirits: Very Happy
Happy spirits.
If only that meant anything to me right now.
I watered the crops mechanically. My thoughts kept looping back to yesterday — Lewis’s resigned glance, the Wizard’s cryptic warnings, the sense that both of them were keeping something huge from me. Something about the Community Center… about the valley… about me.
By the time I reached town, Lewis’s request on the Help Wanted board stopped me short:
Bring him a Red Mushroom.
Poisonous. Disliked.
Hidden in the mines.
Why?
Another secret, probably. Another thing I wasn’t supposed to ask about.
I shook it off and headed north. Maru greeted me on her way to the clinic, cheerful and oblivious to the knot of worry I carried.
Inside the Community Center, I placed my offerings. The Junimo scrolls shimmered faintly, colors rippling like breath. The light clung to my hands a beat too long. I stepped back.
Outside, even Robin’s warm wave couldn’t settle me.
My head felt crowded.
I stopped by Linus’s tent. Maybe he’d be a grounding presence.
Instead, he snapped, “Have you come to ridicule me? I was leaving on urgent business.”
Harsh. Too harsh.
But something in his eyes flicked—almost fear.
Of what?
Of me?
Of the mine?
I backed off and headed toward the mountains.
I started on Level 10, already gripping the wooden club with irritation.
Slow, heavy, unwieldy.
By Level 13, sweat clung to my neck. The club swung like a dead tree limb.
A Duggy ambushed me; my reaction was too slow, and it nearly knocked me flat. I crushed it, panting, but the frustration burned deeper than the bruise.
With every rock smashed, I kept thinking:
What did the Wizard expect me to do with this knowledge?
Why did Lewis look almost… guilty?
What exactly am I stepping into?
Every sound echoed strangely.
Sometimes it felt like someone else’s footsteps followed mine — just half a second delayed.
Too light to be a slime.
Too quick to be a crab.
Too deliberate.
Level 15 arrived around 3:30 PM. The torches grew sparse. Shadows pooled in corners like ink.
At Level 16, I heard something.
A faint metallic tapping, rhythmic and precise.
Too articulate to be random falling stone.
It stopped the moment I turned.
Grubs crawled in thick clusters on Level 17, their bodies slick and trembling. I smashed them frantically, knowing what they became if I hesitated.
As the chittering built into a frenzy, my thoughts spun with it:
Lewis wanted a Red Mushroom.
The Wizard wanted silence.
The Junimos moved when I wasn’t looking.
Who exactly was I supposed to trust?
At one point, I came to a dead halt.
Something breathed — shallow, rapid — from a tunnel behind me.
When I whipped around, nothing was there.
Just the clink of settling pebbles.
But the hairs on my neck stayed upright.
The Rock Crabs dropped Cherry Bombs. I pocketed them with shaking hands.
The entire floor bent inward, a spiraling corridor that pulled me in circles until I lost my orientation.
My head throbbed.
My pulse skittered.
The mines hummed — low and metallic, almost like a voice beneath stone.
And every time I turned, I swore I saw something small move in the dark.
Not a slime.
Not a bug.
Something that watched.
Maybe the Wizard wasn’t warning me about monsters.
Maybe it was something else entirely.
The walls wavered. For a moment, I saw Lewis’s disappointed look superimposed over the rocks. Then my grandfather’s handwriting. Then the Junimo runes shifting like eyes.
I sucked in a breath.
Kept moving.
Kept swinging.
When the grubs burst into flies, my panic finally snapped free.
I bolted, ducking past wings and claws, eating Algae in desperate bites to keep from collapsing.
A ladder appeared near the center.
Relief.
A way out.
But a chest sat at the spiral’s heart.
And something — instinct, greed, desperation — pushed me toward it.
Inside, a pair of Sneakers, useless.
I tossed them aside.
My heartbeat rattled like a pickaxe against tin.
When I finally found the exit…
Cold air.
A chest.
A faint glint.
I opened it.
Steel Smallsword.
Clean. Balanced.
Light in my hands.
Power thrummed through the grip, and for a second the dread evaporated.
Finally — a weapon that matched the mines’ cruelty.
Finally, something that felt like control.
But as I stepped back toward the elevator, I felt it again.
Something watching.
From the walls.
From the cracks.
From the dark places torches didn’t reach.
The tapping resumed — two sharp metallic beats — then silence.
Not hostile.
Just… curious.
I shivered.
Whatever else lived down here…
It knew I was here now.
And it wasn’t going to ignore me again.
The time read 12:50 AM.
I sprinted.
The elevator clanged shut behind me, and I tore out of the mine, half-running down the mountain until my lungs burned.
I stumbled into my cabin, boots still on, and collapsed face-first into bed.
The last thing I felt before sleep swallowed me was the ghost of that tapping echoing behind my ribs.
Slimeglasses
Local Legend
super love how you integrate the original dialogue with your own!
Slimeglasses
Local Legend
wow you've gotten pretty far! I'll have to watch this thread so i can come back and read it when I'm not about to go to bed. (because when I start I can't stop until the book is over so ill be up awhile XD)
Gamer1234556
Farmhand
Chapter 10
When I woke up, I realized I’d passed out last night still wearing all my loot.Not exactly comfortable.
I dragged myself to the chest to organize everything, only to hit the classic problem: far too much junk for one box.
I ended up building two more furnaces. Five in total now. Overkill for most farmers—perfect for someone who has no idea when the next crisis is coming.
I harvested four parsnips and eleven cave carrots. To conserve space, I sold six parsnips, the carrots, and twenty-four spring onions I’d collected… though I ate eight spring onions on the spot because going to bed almost at dawn meant waking up starving.
Then I watered the rest of the crops, trying to shake off the uneasy dream-hangover from last night.
At Clint’s I cracked open three geodes. One earth crystal, eleven copper ore. Nice, clean, predictable. A good contrast to the spiraling madness of the lower mine floors.
On the bridge, Penny intercepted me.
“Eric! Perfect timing. I’m heading to the library for lessons with Vincent and Jas.”
“Sounds great. What’re you teaching today?”
“Oh! Dwarves. Their norms, culture… what little we know. Officially they were ‘wiped out’ in the Dwarf War during the Ferngill–Gotoro conflict, but we have tons of artifacts.”
I froze.
Dwarves.
That thing that’s been following me.
Penny kept talking, cheerful and oblivious. “It’s a shame the town doesn’t have a real school. Parents rely on me for everything. But I love teaching, so—”
I nodded stiffly.
“Jas is great at math and reading. Vincent is good at… well, imagination.”
“Uh… yeah,” I said, sounding like I’d swallowed a rock.
Penny’s brows knit together. “You’re pale. Another mine incident?”
“N-no! Nothing like that.”
Her expression sharpened—less meek, more observant.
“Well… alright. See you! You can stop by the lesson if you want.”
I waved, stiff as a board.
The government says humans wiped out the dwarves.
George claims they didn’t.
And something metal is stalking me in the dark.
What the hell is happening?
Vincent ran up next.
“I wanna look for bugs, but Mom gets mad when I get dirty. Tough choice.”
Big innocent eyes.
Bugs.
Metal bugs.
I shuddered.
“Y-yeah. Sure thing, kid…”
“You okay, mister?”
I waved him away, unconvincing even to myself.
Then I checked the calendar—Vincent’s birthday. Good thing I still had some daffodils. When I opened my chest to grab one—
Abigail walked into the library doorway at the same time.
Okay. Just act normal. Pray no rumors start.
“Oh—hi Eric!” Abigail said.
I waved back. She stepped closer and whispered conspiratorially:
“Don’t tell anyone, but I snuck into the old Community Center last night… I think it’s haunted.”
“I don’t think that’s the only place around here with secrets,” I said before I could stop myself.
“What?”
Gunther looked up from across the room with a stare so sharp it could slice quartz.
I stiffened.
“Nothing! Never mind!”
Abigail squinted at me like I was hiding candy, then wandered off.
I handed Vincent his birthday daffodil. He immediately tried to tear into it.
“Vincent,” Penny sighed, “wait.”
She turned to me.
“Eric, that was sweet, but… maybe not right in the middle of class.”
“Ah—sorry. What’re you reading?”
“Oh! Journeys Across the Gem Sea. That’s supposedly where Gunther’s from!”
Gunther scowled. Penny smothered a laugh. Jas didn’t even look up.
“Haha… okay, I should get going.”
I was halfway to the door before Gunther called:
“Eric. We need to talk.”
My stomach dropped.
Gunther closed the library door behind us.
“Penny says you went pale when she mentioned dwarves. Vincent says you went pale talking about bugs. What’s going on?”
I exhaled shakily.
Time to choose between lying and sounding insane.
“Gunther… that spiral level in the mines? I think something was following me. Metal footsteps. Always behind me. Always gone when I checked.”
Gunther’s face drained of color.
“Oh. Oh no. Um… don’t tell anyone about that. Please.”
“Why?”
“Because if the village hears even a rumor—this could be bad. Really bad. The government likes pretending they won that war, but anyone who lived through that era knows better.”
So… a cover-up.
“Lewis especially won’t talk about it. He nearly got drafted—”
“What?!”
Gunther panicked, waving his hands.
“Forget I said that! Forget everything!”
And he bolted back inside.
I stood there feeling worse than before.
A war the Republic insists they won.
A veteran who says otherwise.
And something from that war stalking me.
Great.
I wanted to see Emily, maybe talk through the dread sitting like a stone in my chest. But as I approached her house, I heard loud laughter.
Emily… laughing? With people?
I knocked.
“Come in!” Emily called.
Inside were Alex and a blonde girl who looked me over like I was a stain.
“Oh… who are you?” she asked, disgust barely concealed.
“I’m Eric. Nice to meet you,” I tried.
“Shame,” she said. “With better fashion, you’d be kinda cute.”
Emily glared. “Haley, be nice. You’ve avoided meeting him for a week.”
“Well excuse me for having a life,” Haley muttered.
Yikes.
“Yo, Eric,” Alex cut in. “You play ball?”
“Uh… no.”
“Ah, too bad. Perfect day for catch. But you don’t really look like the sports type.”
The words stung more than I expected.
“W-what’s that mean?”
Alex laughed. “Some people just aren’t built for sports. You’re a farmer, right? Stick to your thing.”
Haley giggled. “What a burn.”
Something inside me snapped.
“Well, I would stick to what I know, except I’ve spent the last few days fighting for my life in the mines, getting lost in spirals, and dealing with something metal stalking me. So yeah. I’d love normal work, but Pelican Town doesn’t seem to let me.”
Alex’s amusement evaporated.
“Wait—the mines? Don’t you need a license?”
“A… what?”
“Yeah,” Haley added, arms crossed. “Are you sure you’re not lying?”
“What?! Why would I lie?”
“Alex says his grandpa lies about metal bugs and wars, so I’m checking.”
Even Emily looked offended.
“Haley, that’s enough. Eric is not a liar.”
“Oh please. You always take strangers’ sides.”
Emily turned to me, apologetic.
“Sorry, Eric. It’s just… not a good time. Can you maybe come later?”
“Y-yeah. Sure.”
I left, bewildered and humiliated.
What a disaster.
I was still replaying the whole mess when Maru approached.
“Eric! Forgot to mention—I work at Harvey’s Clinic on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He likes having me around in case the equipment acts up.”
I forced a laugh.
“How’s farming going?” she asked.
“It’s… not hard, but it’s exhausting. Lots of energy. Lots of time.”
“And the mines? Going again?”
“Yep. Of course.”
“Well, I hope you find cool minerals. See you!”
I waved back, trying—failing—to ignore the dread pulsing in my gut.
I passed Linus’s tent, but after our last interaction…
Yeah. Not today.
Level 20 opened into a still little cavern, the kind with a pool so clear it almost looked drinkable. Peaceful, if you didn’t know better. Too bad all you ever got from it were Stonefish. I didn’t even get that—just a limp sheet of green algae.
I ate it anyway. Anything to keep the meters moving.
Level 21 was carpeted in cave grass, brushing low against my boots. Easy enough—fiber, seeds, the usual scraps. I even spotted a couple of Cave Carrots half-buried in the dirt. A rare moment of luck.
Then the buzzing started.
Not the echoing kind that bounces off the walls—no, this was the close kind, the kind you feel first in your spine. One fly, thank Yoba. I crushed it fast and sprinted when I spotted the exit tucked near the rocks.
Level 22 greeted me with more grass, more fiber—until the air shifted. A strange heaviness, a sickly green tint that clung to my lungs.
And then they came.
The swarm hit like a wall, ten—maybe more—flies spiraling around me in frenzied loops. My sword arm shook from the last swing I hadn’t recovered from. My energy was already guttering, and every second I spent killing one meant three more slamming into me. I stopped thinking and just ran. Somewhere—anywhere—there had to be an exit.
I stumbled into Level 23 wheezing. Dirt mounds twitched at my feet—Duggies—and worse, the Grubs. Five of them. Three bloated into Flies right in front of me, cracking open like eggshells.
More buzzing. More wings. More heat.
Flies. Flies. Flies.
I tore into my last Cave Carrot like it was a lifeline. The crunch of it didn’t even register; I just needed something, anything, to stop the shaking.
Where’s the exit?
Where is the exit?
WHERE IS THE EXIT?
My watch flashed 12 PM.
Half the day gone, and my body already giving out.
A Duggy broke the soil under me, and I brought the pickaxe down harder than necessary. My arms throbbed. My heart hammered. My brain felt one beat away from shutting off entirely.
And finally—finally—I saw the ladder downward. But I could barely move. I smashed one last copper node on pure stubbornness alone. The sound was muffled, like someone had stuffed wool into my ears.
Level 24.
My legs felt wrong. Too light. Too slow. Like I wasn’t fully connected to them anymore. Fatigue blurred the edges of the cavern into something formless. And somewhere in that blur…
I thought I saw it.
The Steel Devil.
Lurking deep. Watching. Waiting.
I didn’t stay to check if it was real. I bolted—up, out, anywhere that wasn’t the mines. My vision tunneled all the way back to my cabin. I don’t remember opening the door. I don’t remember the floor.
Just the rush of collapse.
And then nothing.
Gamer1234556
Farmhand
Chapter 11
The morning came with rain tapping softly against the roof — steady, cleansing, but unwelcome. My body still hurt from yesterday’s collapse. Every breath reminded me I shouldn’t be pushing myself, but all I could do was get up and pretend nothing was wrong.In the mailbox, a letter waited.
Robin: “Lost my favorite axe. Probably somewhere south of Marnie’s ranch. Could you bring it back?”
Right. Doable. Normal. Mundane.
A request that didn’t involve hallucinations, flies, or strange runes shifting in the corner of my vision.
I took it. I needed something normal today.
I turned it in on the mountain path. Robin thanked me with her usual warmth, but I felt distant, strangely aware of the thrum of rain on her workshop’s roof, like it was trying to drown out my thoughts.
I headed south again, mind fuzzy. Maybe I was just tired.
Abigail was walking up the mountain path as I descended.
“Oh! Hey, Eric,” she said, brushing purple hair out of her face. “Out in this weather, huh?”
“I just found Robin’s Axe and gave it back to her,” I answered. “You heading somewhere?”
She only smiled. “Just bored. Rain days are the best thinking days.”
She walked past me, boots splashing against wet stone. But something about the direction she went — toward the very ridge where Sebastian tended to lurk — made me pause.
A memory stirred: him standing at the beach late at night, cigarette ember glowing like a distant star. The way he watched me.
The way he wasn’t watching the ocean.
Curiosity tugged at me. Or maybe it was fear.
Either way, I followed.
Abigail went straight into the basement hallway, into the room with the black door and peeling paint. Sebastian’s room.
I stayed in the stairwell, just far enough back that the ducting above distorted the voices.
“…I don’t think he’s dangerous. Just weird. Lonely. Like someone who doesn’t know how to talk to people.”
Was that Abigail talking?
“…It’s not that. I’m telling you, something’s off. I saw him at the beach past midnight — he acted like he didn’t notice me, but no one else was awake.”
That has to be Sebastian.
“And the Community Center… something happened there. Someone else went in after him. A guy in a robe.”
“…a wizard?”
“I went to check the next day. Something was moving in there, Abby. Little things… blue? I couldn’t read the writing. Could you?”
“…No.”
“Yeah. That’s why I think he knows something he’s not sharing.”
A heavy silence followed, thicker than the rain.
“…And I think someone’s standing outside the door.”
My stomach dropped.
Footsteps scraped, a chair shifting.
I bolted.
I rounded the corner and nearly collided with Maru.
“Oh! Eric? What are you—?”
“Just—going,” I muttered, not stopping, not daring to look behind me for Sebastian’s silhouette.
Her confused “Wait, what were you doing down—?” followed me all the way to the edge of the mountain path.
I didn’t answer.
My legs carried me to the only place that made sense:
The mines.
Even if they were killing me.
Level 21.
A whole cavern writhing with slimes.
Green bodies pulsing, jumping, crowding me as soon as I stepped in.
Good. Something I could understand. Something that didn’t talk about me behind doors.
The Steel Smallsword sliced cleaner than the club. Two swings per slime. A rhythm. A pulse I could fall into. The noise in my head dulled with each hit.
But the moment I felt steady, the wingbeats came.
Flies. Again.
Their buzzing felt sharper today — like it cut behind my ears.
I pressed on.
Level 22.
More grass. More algae. More shadows that might’ve been movement or might’ve been my brain failing.
Level 23.
Duggies bursting from the ground.
Grubs that turned to flies before I could kill half of them.
A staircase that refused to appear until nearly all the rocks were shattered.
My body ached again.
My left-hand shook when I lifted the pickaxe.
Sweat clung under my shirt despite the cold.
I should have left.
But something pulled me deeper.
Too quiet.
The mines always had noise — distant dripping, the hum of unseen creatures, the faint shuffle of dust. This room had none of that. It felt… held. Like something was keeping the air still on purpose.
I stepped forward, boots echoing in a space that shouldn’t have had echoes.
The darkness shifted.
Not movement — not exactly.
More like the room was watching me breathe.
A scrape cut through the silence.
Metal?
Stone on stone?
It almost sounded like breathing, but the rhythm was wrong. A breath held too long. A breath exhaled too cold.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to focus on the rocks.
If I kept working, maybe the feeling would go away.
One swing.
Another.
Pebbles scattered. Dust rose.
Then — a flash of red beneath the rubble.
A scroll.
Old parchment, edges brittle as leaves left out in autumn frost. Strange red glyphs spiraled across it, sharp and thorn-like, twisting in ways that hurt if I stared too long.
When I reached for it, something in the cavern responded.
A click deep in the walls.
Not mechanical — more like a lock that had never been meant for human hands.
A tremor rolled under my boots.
The kind that comes before something opens — or wakes.
I lifted the scroll, heart thudding. The glyphs seemed to curl like they knew I was reading them wrong, like they were spelling something that didn’t want me here.
Then — a whisper.
Not a voice. A vibration that pressed into my skull, shaping itself into meaning I didn’t fully understand.
Words—
not quite heard,
not quite imagined.
Pan olaits. Pan muon hat olai. Vit dotm. Duhatu en anetus.
I stumbled back, clutching the scroll. The darkness around me pulsed — once — like a slow, enormous breath.
And in that exhale, I felt it.
Something ancient.
Something buried.
Something that now knew exactly where I was.
And somehow, impossibly—
it knew my name.
I grabbed a handful of carrot seeds on the way — a bizarre stroke of luck in a place like this — and shoved them into my pack without looking.
When I finally reached the elevator, my pulse hadn’t slowed.
Even the ride up felt too slow, as though something else might catch up if the gears slipped.
The rain was still falling outside when I stepped into the open air.
Clean. Cold. Real.
But I swear I felt the mines breathing behind me.