Eminia

FIRE IN THE FIELDS

Two nights later, the fire came.

A spark in the dry grass.

A small flame turning into a roaring blaze.

Eminia woke to the smell of smoke.

Rowan was already shouting from outside.

“Get water! Now!”

They fought side by side, filling buckets, beating back the flames with wet cloth, choking on heat and ash.

Villagers rushed in when they saw the glow.

For hours, they worked until finally—mercifully—the fire died.

The damage was devastating.

Half the field was gone.

Eminia collapsed to her knees, shaking.

“This is exactly what they want,” Rowan said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “To break you. To scare you into giving up.”

Eminia wiped her tears with soot-blackened hands.

“I’m not giving up.”

And she meant it.

PART 2

News of the fire spread across the valley.

Some villagers grew worried.

Others grew angry.

Women from the community brought food and blankets.

Men offered to take turns watching the property at night.

But with every offer came whispers:

“You can’t fight a man like Pierce.”

“He has authority, connections, everything.”

“She’s just a girl.”

“What chance does she have?”

Eminia heard every word.

But instead of breaking her, the doubts carved something stronger inside her:

Determination.

She began documenting everything—every threat, every fire, every letter.

“Why?” Rowan asked.

“So when the time comes,” she said, “I’ll have proof.”

He smiled—proud, sad, hopeful.

“You’re more like your father than you know.”

PART 3

One morning, Rowan didn’t show up.

Eminia grew anxious, pacing the porch, scanning the dirt road.

Hours later, Rowan walked toward the house—limping.

His lip split.

A bruise swelling under his eye.

“Rowan!” She rushed to him.

He raised a hand tiredly. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not—what happened?”

He hesitated… then sighed.

“Harlan’s men found me in town.”

Eminia’s stomach twisted.

“They gave me a message,” Rowan said. “‘Walk away. Leave the girl. Or next time, you won’t get up.’”

Eminia’s breath caught.

“And you didn’t leave,” she whispered.

Rowan looked at her with tired but unwavering eyes.

“I made a promise to your father. I’m not breaking it.”

Tears stung her eyes.

“How long has he been after you?” she asked.

Rowan looked away, shame creeping into his voice.

“Years. I knew Harlan long before your father ever helped me. He wanted me to work for him. I refused. He doesn't forget disobedience.”

Eminia stepped closer, placing a hand on Rowan’s arm.

“You’re not alone,” she said. “Not anymore.”