Eva sighed. What was she doing? What in the world was she, a dancer, a model, a Rune Knight, a rich, troublesome diva, doing in the fields staring at cabbages? What had even made her want to take up a job to crate a bunch of cabbages for a guy who wasn’t paying her enough for it? She truly blamed her occasionally soft hearted nature for having felt sympathy towards the poor farmer who was seeking out help in the local pub. She met him accidently while she strolled into the rusty old place to get some information on the town. He was sitting to the side, drinking, with his face red from the alcohol and what she guessed was slight desperation. Taking another mouthful of the amber liquid, he sobbed, slamming his face down on his open palms. “I can’t do it on my own!” he slurred a second later and looked up at the man sitting opposite to him, equally drunk but taken aback by the other man’s poor display. “Heh Jim, stop sobbing around, geezer! If you need help with the cabbages, then put up a request! One of those hippity hoppity mages will take care of it!” the other man guffawed, causing an amused Eva to raise her eyebrows at the show. Well, that was one way to put it, she supposed. But cabbages?

“You don’t understand, Tim! Those cabbages are my babies! I won’t let just anyone take care of it. I did put up a request but most of the mages that showed up were no good. Too careless,” he sighed, coming down from his earlier high. “If only I was twenty years younger...” he shook his head, disappointed. She wasn’t sure what made her do it at that moment. Was it because she could relate to his hard work that she went up to him? “I can do it for you,” she had said to the drunk man that with unblinking eyes, hiccupped at her before passing out.

Now here she was, the morning right after that incident with Farmer Jim standing to her side, his fingers rubbing circles onto his temples. They were overlooking a large field covered in green cabbages that, honestly, put Eva off a bit. The realization that she was supposed to work on them all day to crate them and then load them onto the carriage under the hot sun didn’t appeal to her either. Now, she was starting get a headache.

“You just have to put them into those crates over there,” he pointed sluggishly at a bunch of red crates to a side. “After that stack them up on the cabbage there,” he turned the same hand towards a sturdy carriage. “Just be careful and don’t drop them!” this part was said with a bit more authority, his headache temporarily forgotten. “All those people are looking forward to my cabbages and I won’t let some wannabe mage ruin it for them!” he exclaimed as Eva inwardly glowered at the man. Those were coming out the mouth of an old man that was literally sobbing last night at a pub. “Now get to it and let me know when you’re done,” he said and left, letting Eva take care of the whole problem by herself as he went to toil at the fields at the other side.

With an inaudible groan, Eva pulled up the sleeves of her black t shirt and swept all her light blonde hair up in a tight bun. She didn’t stop there as she proceeded to braid it next. Working in a farm was fine and everything, but she would rather not get any mud or dirt on her hair. Grabbing the pair of pink gloves off the ground, she carefully pulled them on before crouching down next to the cabbages. For the next two hours, she picked at them, poked at them, and rubbed her hands over them to inspect them before placing them on the crates. She managed to fill up about seven of the crates, each containing ten cabbages before the need to drink some water hit her dry throat.

“Here,” she heard Jim behind her and found a violet colored bottle being thrust to her face. “Drink and get back into it,” he gave her an approved glance before walking back. Well, someone should learn to say thank you, she thought after taking a mouthful of water. She swallowed, letting the cool water rejuvenate her throat and sighed. After placing it down, she was back to work, inspecting the cabbages again, picking out the smaller and somewhat rotten ones, placing them aside while only letting the good and big ones go into the crates, and loading them onto the carriage, whose horse neighed every now and then at the increasing weight put behind it.

For a few more hours, it continued like that. Farmer Jim did come and check on her every now and then, sometimes advised her on what to do, rubbed his nonexistent beard for a couple of minutes before leaving only to come back again half an hour later. “You’re doing good,” he would hum under his breath and cast an impressed glance at the carriage then look back at her and mutter a continue before leaving again. Honestly, the man was starting to irritate her a bit. It wasn’t like she had to be here doing this dirty work in the first place, she huffed in her mind before carefully, but irritably, slamming down the last crate on the carriage. The horse neighed a bit louder this time, turning its head to give her an angry look at which she simply stuck her tongue out.

“Very well done,” Jim praised, coming up to inspect the crates. “You finished it in lesser time than I thought you would take. Now, if only those other mages were like you,” he gave her pat on the shoulder and handed her the money. “Thanks for the good work. If you aren’t in a hurry, you can eat lunch here before you go”.