The sun had barely peeked over the horizon when Daniel returned from his day with Thom. His sack was full of herbs and roots, and his six copper coins clinked in his pouch. Fatigue was a familiar weight, but so was satisfaction.
He had won, he had learned, and above all, he had survived.
As he crossed the threshold of his house, the aroma of freshly baked bread and coffee enveloped him.
Alicia, his mother, was already in the kitchen, her hair tied back and flour covering her apron. Elena, sitting at the table, was reading an old book by candlelight. They both glanced at him as they entered, and Daniel noticed a flicker of relief in his mother's eyes, mixed with lingering concern.
"Daniel, son, you're here," Alicia said, drying her hands on her apron. "Every day you leave, my heart sinks. The forest isn't what it used to be."
Elena looked up, her large, expressive eyes fixed on him. —They say the creatures are more… ferocious. That the hunters don't return.
Daniel felt a pang of guilt. He knew the stories circulating around the village were true; he'd even witnessed them. But he couldn't stop. Not now when the need to protect them was stronger than ever.
"I'm fine, Mom, Elena," he assured, forcing a smile. "I'm just helping Thom harvest. He's a grumpy old man, but he knows what he's doing."
Alicia sighed, reaching out to touch his arm.
"You have more scratches than a harvester should have, Daniel."
She said nothing more, but her gaze spoke volumes. Worry was a heavy pall that had settled over their home. Daniel knew lying wasn't enough.
He needed a real solution, something that would reassure them and, at the same time, give him the resources he needed to continue growing.
A Sweet and Profitable Idea.
That afternoon, as his mother peeled some wild berries she had picked that morning, a lightbulb moment hit Daniel. The fruits were vibrant, sweet, and his mother cultivated them with care.
"Mom," he said, the thought forming clearly in his mind. "What do you do with all this fruit?"
"Well, we eat it, I make jam for the winter... sometimes we sell some at the market if we have any leftovers," she replied, puzzled by the question.
"What if we sold them another way?" Daniel continued, a gleam of enthusiasm in his eyes. "What if we made something special out of them? Something people would want to buy again and again."
Alicia looked at him curiously. Elena, who was listening from a corner, came closer, intrigued.
"What do you mean, son?"
"A dessert," Daniel said, smiling broadly. "A pie."
Alicia frowned.
"The pie? I don't know... it's a recipe I'm not familiar with."
Daniel watched her, excitement growing. He remembered those ingredients very well. And how to make it. He had seen it so many times... Flour, butter, sweet fruits.
He looked at Elena.
"You've always been good with numbers, Elena. Could you help us calculate the costs, the prices?"
Elena nodded slowly, a small smile forming on her lips. The idea was not only new, but it offered them a way to work together, to have Daniel nearby, and to use their own resources.
Alicia's gaze went from doubt to hope. Seeing her children united by an idea, one that didn't involve the danger of the forest, lightened her heart a little.
"Are you sure you know how to do this, Daniel?" her mother asked.
Daniel nodded fervently.
"Perfectly, Mom. It will be the best pie in the village. And that way, I won't have to go so far into the forest. I'll be here, helping you."
The plan was ambitious, but the idea of a steady income, generated by their own hands and without the need to risk themselves in the heart of the forest every day, was too attractive.
The price of power was not only combat, but also the cunning to avoid it, and the intelligence to find new ways to sustain themselves. And Daniel, with his growing skill set, was determined to master both.
Daniel's kitchen, usually a place of simplicity and utilitarian purpose, was transformed into a culinary laboratory. Alicia, with her experience in the kitchen, took charge of the foundation: the dough. Her hands, accustomed to kneading bread, worked the flour and butter with innate grace.
Elena, sorprendiendo a todos con su meticulosidad, se encargó de las proporciones exactas, midiendo los ingredientes con una precisión casi obsesiva.
Daniel, for his part, focused on the filling. With his Basic Analysis skill and his heightened Intelligence, the vague memories solidified into clear instructions. He could "see" the necessary herbs, almost smell their aroma.
"We need moonberry," he said one afternoon, examining some fruit in the light from the window.
Alice frowned.
"Those aren't easy to come by, Daniel. It grows near wolf dens."
"Thom knows where to find them without taking too many risks," Daniel replied, now with a plan.
So Daniel continued going into the woods with Thom, but with a dual objective. In addition to the usual foraging, he was looking for those "special" ingredients that elevated Earth Pie from a homemade dessert to something magical.
Thom, though grumpy, was surprised by Daniel's nose for moonberry or silver dew. She didn't ask questions, she just nodded, accepting that the boy had his own methods.
The first batch was a resounding success. The pie came out of the oven with a golden crust and a bubbling fruit filling, with a sweet and slightly earthy aroma that filled the entire house. Alicia's first bite was one of amazement.
"It's... it's so delicious!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining with tears. "I'm proud of you, Daniel."
Elena, after tasting it, said,
"We could sell this very well."
The Cold Market Reception
With their spirits soaring and a basket full of perfectly baked pies, Daniel and Elena headed to the village market the next day.
The market was a hive of activity, with stallholders hawking their wares: fresh vegetables, game meat, blacksmithing tools, and coarse fabrics.
They set up their small stall in a corner with a clean tablecloth.
Elena had prepared a small sign: "Earth Pie – Ancestral Recipe – Deliciously Homemade." Daniel felt a little awkward hawking, but tried to imitate the other vendors.
"Earth Pies! Delicious Earth Pies! Unique Recipe!" he shouted, his voice a little unsteady.
The first few hours were disheartening. People walked by. Some looked curious, others skeptical. Most of the villagers bought what they knew: plain bread, fruit, or meat.
Desserts weren't a necessity, especially one with such a pompous name.
A man approached, looked him up and down, and said disdainfully:
"Earth Pie? And how much for that... thing?"
"Three copper coins," Elena replied firmly.
The man snorted.
"So much for a sweet! I'd rather buy a good piece of cheese."
An old woman stopped and examined a pie suspiciously.
"And what's it made of, young man? It looks too pretty to be just fruit. I don't want to grow wings."
Daniel tried to explain the ingredients, the pie recipe, but the old woman just shook her head and walked away. Daniel's hope began to wane. They'd been there for hours, the sun was rising, and they hadn't sold a single pie. The basket was still full.
Alicia's worry, which he had promised to ease, seemed endless.
Elena, however, wasn't discouraged. She had observed the other vendors. She realized that it wasn't enough to have a good product; they had to know how to sell it.
"Daniel, people don't know us," Elena whispered. "They don't know how good it is, we have to give them a taste."
Daniel nodded, his mind already searching for a solution. The idea was good, but the reality of selling something "new" in a traditional village was more difficult than he expected.
The price of power, this time, was not a goblin coup, but the frustration of indifference and the barrier of distrust.