The wind was blowing smoothly across the Northern Continent. People were plowing their lands in unison as the sun was starting to turn orange in between two mountains. Around these people were men in uniform, wearing hard armor with swords on their waists, posing authority to everyone.
In a small village, three people were hiding behind a bush. They ran away from those men in uniform just to escape their unreasonable responsibilities.
The correct term would be "imposed responsibilities," which were unreasonable as they needed to work 18 hours a day straight.
They were considered slaves, but at the same time, not, and just by that, that miserable life that had made them whine every night from pain, and made their voices hoarse when they talked, they were encouraged enough to urge themselves to escape.
