Krystal Evergreen's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Krystal woke before dawn with the tax already paid and nothing left over. She sat up on the cold floor and did the sum again. The candles would have to wait. Maybe a month. Maybe longer. Her little sister stirred under the blanket. Dandy sat up, thin and quiet, her braid loose from sleep. She had watched Krystal hunt since she could walk. She trusted her more than anything. "We can't get candles for a while," Krystal said. "Not till I sell more game." Dandy pulled the blanket to her chin. "I could help. I could set snares too." "No." Krystal stood and reached for her bow. "You stay. I'll handle it." Dandy said nothing. She only watched her sister lace her boots, the way she always did. Krystal stepped outside. The problem was simple and cruel. Word of the new tax had spread. Every hunter in the district was selling now, dumping meat at the market to scrape up coin. Prices had fallen through the floor. Three rabbits fetched almost nothing. Her game no longer mattered. So she needed something bigger. Something worth real coin even in a flooded market. She walked to the old wheat field. Dead stalks stood in brittle rows, tangled and grey, rattling when the wind moved through them. She crouched at the edge and waited. She watched for the flick of an ear, the twitch of a squirrel. Nothing moved. The rows stayed empty. An hour passed. Her knees ached. No rabbits. No squirrels. The field was picked clean, hunted out by every desperate soul with the same idea. She had failed. Krystal turned back toward home with empty hands. Then she heard it. A heavy grunt, low and close. She froze. A boar stood among the withered stalks. Thick-shouldered, dark, rooting at the dead ground. It was more meat than she had killed in a season. She drew an arrow slow. Her breath went shallow. She sighted behind its front leg and loosed. The arrow struck deep. The boar squealed and bolted three steps, then dropped. She waited until it went still, then walked to it. Her hands shook. This one animal was worth more than a dozen rabbits. But now she faced a choice, and it split two ways. She could sell it. Even in a crowded market, a boar this size would bring coin, maybe enough for candles at last. Or she could keep it, smoke it, fill the cellar, and stop hunting cold dawns for weeks. Coin or food. She could not have both from one kill. Krystal knelt and gripped the boar's hind legs. She started to drag. The weight cut into her palms. It plowed a dark line through the dust behind her. She would decide at the door. Right now she only pulled, one hard step after another, toward the house and toward Dandy waiting inside.