Who are those people?

Kai felt unsure as he reached for the first vine. The vines moved when his gloved fingers touched them, and he jumped back, making his dad chuckle quietly.

"Don't be scared," his dad said. "They can feel your energy. Stay calm, and they'll stay calm too."

Taking a deep breath, Kai tried to follow his dad's advice. He cut the vine quickly, and was glad to see the vines relax, wrapping loosely like they accepted him.

As they worked, his dad explained more. "After you cut the vine, coil it gently into loops. If it gets tangled, it will be a big mess to fix later."

Kai soon understood why. The vines felt heavier than they looked, and their slight pulse made him feel like they were alive. He carefully coiled each one and put them in the basket, feeling proud of his work. 

His dad smiled and patted him on the shoulder as he walked by. "Good job, son!"

Kai nodded and followed his dad. They picked more vines until they reached the bottom of the pile. After that, everything got easier. The vines felt lighter as they moved down, and soon they were at the very bottom of the pile.

By mid-morning, the basket was full, and Kai's gloves had a faint greenish stain from the sap. He looked down at the last vine in his hands, its glowing tendrils moving slowly like lazy snakes. "So... what happens if you don't cut them right?" he asked.

His dad paused to wipe the sweat from his brow. "If you don't know what you're doing, they'll fight back. I've seen people get so tangled up they needed help to get free. The vines aren't mean, but they protect themselves."

Kai nodded, feeling thankful for the gloves and the blade, which now felt like a part of his hand.

Once they were done, his dad stepped back and looked over the field. "Good work," he said, his voice showing approval.

Kai looked at the basket full of coiled vines, then at the glowing field, which seemed peaceful now. "Not bad for my first harvest," he said with a small smile.

His father smiled back, a smile full of years of wisdom and quiet pride. "You'll get the hang of it. Just remember—respect the vines, and they'll respect you."

They walked back toward the house, and Kai felt the weight of the morning's work in his tired muscles. But it wasn't just physical fatigue. He realized that, in this strange and confusing world, there was something grounding about the simple act of harvesting. For the first time in what felt like years, he felt a small sense of purpose.

As he looked down at the glowing vines in the basket, he thought about how the Moonvine could heal and grow after each harvest. Maybe, just maybe, he could grow too.

Kai was starting to get the hang of it—the rhythm of harvesting the Moonvine, the clean snap of the blade cutting through the stems, and the calm, almost meditative motion of coiling the vines into loops. It was beginning to feel... normal.

His father had been patient, guiding him step by step, even cracking a rare smile when Kai managed to cut a particularly stubborn vine without messing up.

But the peaceful moment didn't last.

The distant sound of hooves broke the quiet of the evening. Kai froze, his blade still in the air as he glanced toward the horizon. A group of riders appeared from the treeline, their shapes dark against the soft light of dawn.

His father immediately straightened, his whole body changing. The relaxed, almost fatherly man from a moment ago was gone, replaced by someone alert and serious. "Nyx," he said quietly, his voice low and urgent. "Go inside. Now."

Kai frowned, gripping the blade tighter. "What? Why? Who are they?"

"Just go," his father snapped, his tone making it clear there was no room for argument.

But it was too late. The riders were already at the edge of the field, dismounting with smooth, practiced movements. There were six of them—hardened men and women wearing mismatched armor, their weapons resting casually by their sides, as if they were ready for a fight but didn't expect much trouble.

The leader, a tall man with a scar running diagonally across his cheek, walked forward, his boots crunching on the soil. He carried himself with an air of authority that felt both unsettling and commanding.

"Well, well," the man said, his voice dripping with mockery. "If it isn't the ever-industrious Vornir family. Still taking care of your little patch of Moonvine, I see."

Kai's father didn't flinch, though his jaw tightened. "What do you want, Cael? I've already made my payments this month."

"What is he saying?" Kai asked, trying to understand, looking from his father to the man named Cael.

Cael let out a cold laugh, spreading his arms wide as if the whole situation was a joke. "Payments are just the start, old man. You know how it goes. The council's decided your yields have been.... lacking. We're here to make sure the next harvest is more impressive."

"We're doing everything we can," Kai's father said calmly. "You know how the land works, Cael. Moonvine doesn't care about deadlines or quotas."

"Spare me the farmer wisdom," Cael snapped, his voice turning sharp. "The council isn't interested in excuses. They want results. And if you can't deliver..."

One of the other riders stepped forward, a big man holding a club that looked like it came from a tree. He smirked, cracking his knuckles as he eyed Kai's father. "Maybe it's time we gave you a little... motivation."

Kai's blood ran cold. "Dad—"

Though Kai couldn't understand their language and wasn't sure what they were demanding from his father, he knew one thing for certain: they were beating his father mercilessly.

"Stay back," his father ordered, his voice firm. He stepped forward, positioning himself between Kai and the group.

Cael raised a hand, and the burly man lunged. It happened so fast that Kai barely had time to react. One moment, his father was standing tall, defiant, and the next, he was on the ground, the club slamming into his ribs with a sickening thud.

"Dad!" Kai shouted, dropping the vine he'd been holding.

He rushed forward, but before he could reach his father, a wiry woman with a grip like iron grabbed him. She twisted his arm behind his back, forcing him to his knees. He struggled, fighting against the pain.

"Stay out of it, Nyx," she hissed. "This doesn't concern you."

Kai struggled, his anger rising. "Let me go!"

Cael crouched beside his father, who was gasping for breath but still glaring at him with unyielding defiance. "Here's the deal, old man," Cael said, his tone calm, almost casual. "You'll deliver twice your usual yield by the next cycle. If you don't..." He trailed off, gesturing vaguely toward the farmland. "Well, accidents happen. Crops burn. Families disappear."

Kai's father spat blood onto the ground, his gaze never leaving Cael. "You can threaten all you want, Cael. But you'll never get more than the land can give."

Cael's smile faltered, and for a moment, something dark flickered in his eyes. He stood up, brushing imaginary dust off his coat. "We'll see about that," he said coldly.

With a snap of his fingers, the group turned and mounted their horses, leaving as quickly as they had come. The sound of hooves faded into the distance, leaving an eerie silence behind them.

Kai scrambled to his feet and rushed to his father's side. "Dad! Are you okay?"

His father winced but managed a weak smile. "I've had worse," he said, though his labored breathing told a different story.

"What was that about?" Kai demanded, his voice shaking with a mix of fear and anger. "Who are those people? And why are they threatening us?"

His father hesitated, his expression darkening with something Kai couldn't quite place. "It's... complicated," he finally said. "I'll explain everything. But right now, we need to focus on the harvest."

Kai stared at him, disbelief written all over his face. "The harvest? Are you serious? You just got beaten up, and you're worried about vines?"

"Because if we don't meet their demands, Kai, they'll come back," his father said sharply. "And next time, they won't leave so easily."

Kai swallowed hard, the weight of his father's words sinking in. He looked out at the field, the glowing vines swaying gently in the breeze, and tried not to imagine what would happen if they weren't able to harvest. 

"We'll talk about it later," his father said, his voice strained. "For now, you should get back to work." Kai could tell it hurt him to speak, but he refused to leave.

"You're going to tell me what's going on, dad," he said, his voice low but firm. "No more excuses. Who are those people? And why did they attack you?"