Chapter 1 - The Farm in Irttat
When she woke up, she was sitting in an unfamiliar train compartment.
It was a window seat. The moment she opened her eyes, what came into view was the verdant mountain ranges rushing past outside the window.
It appeared to be a deep, scarcely trodden forest, where ancient trees intertwined so densely that even sunlight struggled to break through. Milky white mist coiled around the mountainside, and just looking at them, one could almost breathe in the chill of early morning.
She still carried the dazed confusion of just waking up. Her warm breath fogged the window, leaving a thin veil of white mist on the glass.
"Choo-choo--"
Suddenly, a long train whistle pierced the sky, echoing through the mountains for a long time.
As if awakening from a dream, she withdrew her gaze and looked around. She glanced somewhat bewilderedly at her own hands, then felt the clothes she was wearing.
A blurred reflection of a stranger’s face appeared in the window.
Who am I?
These were very young hands.
A few strands of fine black curly hair hung down to her chest, swaying gently. She reached out to gather them—the texture was silky and smooth, showing no signs of perming or dyeing whatsoever.
She wore a brown striped jacket, matching riding breeches, and black pointed leather boots. The materials and craftsmanship were clearly of high quality, but everything looked well-worn, faded at the cuffs and knees, the left sleeve missing a cufflink. The hat was the same: a narrow-brimmed leather beret with a dark silver metal clasp, marked by years of wind and weather.
Beside her sat a brown wooden suitcase, its gilded metal handle slightly tarnished.
Thankfully, it wasn’t a combination lock. She found a copper key in her pocket and opened it easily.
Inside the case were two leather-bound notebooks, several white paperboard envelopes, a quill pen, a pouch that appeared to contain coins based on its shape, and a bag of stale bread with very little left.
Given the mixed crowd on the train, she didn't dare open and check the coin pouch, so she put everything back.
The notebooks were all blank. Those letters seemed to be the only clues.
All the envelopes had already been opened, with traces of sealing wax still visible at the edges. There were three in total, clearly from different times, judging by their condition.
She first picked up one of the older ones and unfolded it.
The paper had already yellowed slightly, with quite severe creases, and the handwriting had faded somewhat, but fortunately it was still legible.
Dear Lucita,
I hope this letter finds you well.
Hello, I am Javena, the town mayor of Irttat.
Time has flown so quickly, by now you must be a teenage girl. My memories still linger on the days when you were four or five years old, spending happy times at Aunt Sandy’s farm. Of course, you were so young then that you may not remember any of it. How have you been?
Ever since you left with your mother, Aunt Sandy has always missed you both terribly. Her health has been very poor. When we heard the tragic news of your mother’s passing, we were all deeply saddened. Aunt Sandy fell gravely ill soon after. You must understand: after losing your mother, you, as her granddaughter, were Aunt Sandy’s last remaining family in this world.
Therefore, even though I do not know whether this letter will ever reach you, I must still write it. It is with deep regret that I inform you of this sorrowful news: Aunt Sandy passed away this winter.
You know, this winter was particularly cold. We buried her in the Derry Grasslands south of town; the scenery there is beautiful. I believe Aunt Sandy would have liked it.
Dear Lucita, if you ever wish to come back here to visit her when you are grown, you will always be welcome. I believe Aunt Sandy would be very happy as well.
Wish you all the best.
December 7, 573
Your friend in Irtttat, Javena
The sender was "Javena," the recipient "Lucita."
The Aunt Sandy that Javena mentioned was Lucita's grandmother. Lucita was in her teens, so Javena should be middle-aged by now, while she herself still looked very young.
If she could possibly be one of these people, it could only be Lucita.
She opened the second letter.
This letter appeared to be the newest. The paper was still snow-white, the creases weren't too deep, and the handwriting was quite clear. It must have been written within the past six months.
Dear Lucita,
Poor child, hearing this unfortunate news again takes me back to when you just lost your mother. How similar it all is! Your mother's lover was a devoted soul; having lost your mother, such a choice was to be expected. May he rest in peace in heaven. Child, be strong. They will bless you from heaven too.
Since you've decided to live here long-term, the original plan for a temporary stay is no longer suitable. Come live in your homeland, return to Aunt Sandy's farm—it's waiting for you there. Fix it up properly, and it will be as beautiful as it once was.
Everyone in Irttat will welcome you. Do not be afraid. I'll be waiting for you at the end of your journey. From now on, Irttat will be your home.
December 4, 575
Forever welcoming you,
Javena
Lucita's mother and grandmother had passed away.
In the winter of year 575—which very likely meant last year—Javena had invited her to come live in a place called Irttat.
There was one last letter.
Dear Lucita,
I heard you and your mother's lover are coming back to pay respects to Aunt Sandy. Everyone is very happy to welcome you! Two luo hua trees, Aunt Sandy's favorites when she was alive, were planted in front of her grave. The flowering season has passed now, and the trees are full of fiery red leaves. I believe she must be very happy in heaven.
Unfortunately, your home has been unoccupied for a year and has fallen into some disrepair. But don’t worry; if you’re willing, you can stay at my house temporarily, or at the Town Center. We can clear out two rooms for you.
I can hardly wait! I miss you so much!
October 21, 575
Forever welcoming you,
Javena
This letter was written in October of 575, slightly earlier than the previous one. It was clear that at this time, that lover—Lucita's temporary guardian after losing her mother—had not yet passed away. The two had originally planned to return to Irttat to pay respects to Grandma Sandy, but by December, that lover had died (perhaps choosing death out of overwhelming grief), and so this trip had been postponed. In the final letter, Javena invited Lucita, who had originally planned only a temporary stay, to settle permanently in Irttat.
The last letter had arrived in winter, and now with fresh greenery covering the mountains outside the window, it was already spring.
She asked the auntie in the neighboring seat softly, "Excuse me, what year is it now?"
The auntie gave her a strange look: “576.”
As expected.
Combining the timing of this journey and the items she carried, she began to piece together her identity.
An orphan who had lost all her family. Dressed in her most respectable outfit. Sold off whatever property may or may not have existed. Carrying nearly all her belongings and boarding a train back to her homeland.
Without memories, she felt no grief over her family’s deaths. She simply knew nothing about how she had lost her memory, where her future lay, or whether there was any danger around her.
If the destination of this train truly was her so-called homeland of Irttat, would there be more clues there?
She didn't ponder for long, the train had already reached its terminus.
Lucita followed the crowd off the train. After glancing around, she saw a blonde woman walking toward her.
The woman wore her golden hair in a low ponytail, a wide-brimmed cowboy-style hat on her head, and an old but clean leather satchel at her waist. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully and said: “Brown striped suit, amethyst collar clasp… Lucita? I’m Javena.”
Lucita realized that in her reply letter, she must have agreed with Javena, who was coming to meet her, on what she would wear.
From the letter's content, Javena had only seen her as a child, so she didn't need to worry too much about exposing the fact that she'd lost her memory.
She nodded calmly in response: "Yes, Aunt Javena, thank you for coming to pick me up."
"Don't mention it, Lucy. Irttat always welcomes her children, no matter how far they've wandered." Javena seemed quick to warm up to her, already calling her by a nickname.
"You look just as healthy and beautiful as I imagined. If Aunt Sandy could see from heaven how much her granddaughter has grown, she would be so pleased."
Lucita tried to have a sorrowful face, but failed.
Fortunately, Javena didn’t notice.
Javena led her out of the station and onto a carriage.
The carriage was painted a lovely primrose yellow, decorated with unfamiliar elegant crests: unknown purple flowering vines wrapped around a sword. The mushroom-red canopy top formed a gentle umbrella shape, and the curtains were made of thick dark blue canvas.
Lucita climbed aboard. The cushions inside were woven from some unknown type of grass stalks and felt very comfortable.
She lifted the curtain and looked toward Javena. Javena, riding ahead on horseback, raised her arm and pointed south, flicking her riding crop twice.
"Over that small hill ahead, then pass through a forest, we'll reach our town."
So this wasn't Irttat yet?
Lucita was secretly surprised.
The carriage slowly left the city behind, crossing the grassland on the mountain and the forest behind it. The cold morning mist brushed across her cheeks, and the shadows of wild rabbits and squirrels flashed past in succession. The scent of grass and the chirping of birds gradually lifted Lucita's spirits.
Before long, the carriage stopped in front of a spacious wooden house.
"We're here."
Lucita got off the carriage and heard Javenna explain with a laugh: "This is the only carriage in the whole town. It's usually kept at our Town Center. Let me take you to see your home, Lucy."
She tethered the carriage to a large tree in front of the Town Center.
Lucita nodded, quietly observing this small town.
All the buildings along the street were wooden, but the one before them was especially broad.
It was about the time of spring. Fresh buds still clung to the timber beams and walls. Slender vines covered the walls completely, with small pink-purple flowers swaying in the wind. Two exquisite wooden sculptures stood by the entrancer: one was a squirrel holding pine nuts, the other a rabbit holding a radish.
Purple flower vines twined around an oval wooden sign that read: "Irttat Activity Center."
The road was a straight gravel path. Both sides were lined with small wooden houses, their walls dotted with scattered blossoms. Behind bright glass shop windows sat rows of butter bread, releasing a sweet aroma. Long flowerbeds pressed against the walls by each doorway, clusters of hyacinths just beginning to bloom, while daffodils on the windowsills had already opened their shy buds.
In the two-story wooden house beside them, a small wooden attic window creaked open.
A blonde teenager leaned halfway out from a windowsill covered in bluebell flowers, propping her chin and calling out: “Mayor Javena, is that little Lucita?”
The teen wore a loose white cotton nightgown, her blonde hair hanging low, fastened with a leaf-shaped hair clip. Her eyes were emerald green, like a clear lake.
"That's Elsia from the tailor shop," Javena introduced her to Lucita, then looked up and replied: "Good morning, Elsia! I'm just about to take Lucy to her farm."
"Sandy’s Farm? I miss how beautiful it used to be." Elsia smiled: "Lucita, I guarantee you'll love it here!"
Lucita looked up at the youth by the window.
Perhaps the sunlight was too bright, a wave of dizziness passed over her. The smile before her felt as though it belonged to another world, blurred and distant.
Comments
Post a Comment