Harold sat in his study, staring at the latest reports from his barony's farms.
His hands, calloused from years of toil, trembled as he read the grim numbers. Another year of dwindling harvests. The once fertile fields of his land had become barren, producing less and less with each passing season.
His people, a diverse mix of humans, elves, beastpeople, and demons who had sought refuge under his governance, were growing desperate. Hunger was no longer a distant fear but a harsh reality creeping into every household. Harold clenched his jaw, his mind racing for a solution.
For years, Harold had prided himself on building a haven for the downtrodden. Former slaves and marginalized races had found safety within his borders, and together they had created a thriving community. But now, his barony was crumbling.
The fields, plagued by pests and stripped of nutrients, could no longer sustain his people.
The food reserves, already meager, had been depleted further by the grand celebration of Rae's return. Though the celebration had been a necessary show of respect for her royal lineage, the timing could not have been worse.
Desperation led Harold to seek aid from his neighbor, the Count of Greythorne. The count's lands were lush and bountiful, overflowing with excess crops.
At first, the negotiations seemed promising. Harold had offered a fair sum of coin in exchange for a fraction of Greythorne's surplus. The agreement was reached, and Harold allowed himself a moment of relief. But that relief was short-lived.
During transportation, the precious supplies meant to feed his people were destroyed. Rumors of sabotage spread like wildfire, though no proof could be found.
When Harold returned to the count to plead for more aid, the terms had changed. The count now demanded a crippling price: a share of the adventurers' guild profits in Carmine Village. Harold's heart sank. The guild was the barony's lifeline, generating income through the trade of monster parts and treasures gathered by adventurers. Without that income, Harold's barony would collapse, and the count's ultimate goal—to annex Harold's lands through legal manipulation—would be within reach. Yet Harold had no choice. His people were starving. With a heavy heart, he signed the agreement, feeling as though he had handed over the future of his barony on a silver platter.
Just as Harold's despair reached its peak, salvation came from an unexpected source.
Rae, the young princess whose return had been cause for celebration, was not content to sit idly by. Her sharp mind had always been her greatest asset, and she approached the barony's crisis with a determination that belied her age. One morning, five days after her return, she approached Harold during breakfast with concern.
"Father," she began, her voice soft, "why have we been eating the same meals every day since I arrived?"
Harold sighed, setting down his fork. "The harvest is poor this year, Rae. Worse than ever. We barely have enough to feed the people, not even enough to trade for variety."
Rae's eyes narrowed, a spark of curiosity igniting within her. "May I visit the farmlands and inspect them myself?"
Harold hesitated. "You may, but there is little to see. The land is tired, the crops are weak. I'm not sure what you'll find."
They set out that afternoon, walking the dusty paths to the fields. The sight that greeted them was disheartening. Rows of stunted plants stood withered, their leaves yellowed and brittle. Farmers worked halfheartedly, their faces filled with despair. Rae knelt by one of the plants, gently brushing her fingers over its leaves. Her expression grew serious.
"These plants are suffering from chlorosis," she said, almost to herself. "They lack chlorophyll, which means they can't produce food effectively. The soil must be severely depleted. This is more than just bad weather."
Harold watched her, bewildered. Her words were unfamiliar, but her confidence was undeniable. "What do you propose?" he asked.
Rae rose to her feet, brushing dirt from her hands. "We need to start over. Every plant in this field must be removed. The soil needs to be rejuvenated before we can grow anything worthwhile."
A murmur of protest rippled through the gathered farmers. Harold understood their hesitation. Asking them to destroy what little remained of their crops felt like an act of madness. But Rae held her ground, her voice unwavering.
"If you want to see real change," she said firmly, "you must trust me. Keeping these sickly plants will only guarantee another failed harvest."
Reluctantly, the farmers complied, uprooting the fields under Rae's watchful eye. She then asked to see the barony's waste disposal site. Harold's stomach churned at the thought of the rancid, festering pit, but Rae was undeterred. When they arrived, she examined the dark, nutrient-rich soil beneath the layers of refuse.
"This is exactly what we need," she said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "The organic matter here will enrich the farmland. We'll transport this compost to the fields and mix it with the soil."
Barrels of compost were hauled to the farmlands, where Rae began implementing her plan. She divided the fields into four sections, instructing the farmers to plant different crops in each section and rotate them after every harvest. "Crop rotation," she explained, "will prevent the soil from being overused and depleted of specific nutrients."
She also directed the construction of trenches around the fields to deter pests and shallow furrows for efficient irrigation. "You've relied on rain for too long," she said. "We need a more reliable system."
Rae's ingenuity didn't stop there. She introduced compost pits and manure management systems to ensure the soil remained fertile. She taught the farmers grafting techniques to create hardier, high-yield crops and worked tirelessly alongside them, demonstrating her methods with her own hands. It wasn't just her ideas that inspired trust—it was her willingness to labor alongside her people.
But her most ambitious innovation was the magical greenhouse. Using spells to control temperature, water, and light, Rae proposed a way to cultivate crops that had never before been grown in the barony. Harold was skeptical, but Rae's conviction was unshakable. "Father," she said, "if we can master this, our people will never fear hunger again."
In the weeks that followed, the results were nothing short of miraculous. The once barren fields burst to life with vibrant, healthy crops. The farmers, initially skeptical, now sang Rae's praises. Food reserves swelled beyond expectation, and for the first time in years, there was a surplus.
Harold watched in awe as his daughter revolutionized agriculture in ways he could never have imagined. The despair that had hung over the barony like a dark cloud was replaced with hope and celebration. Rae, with her unyielding determination and brilliance, had not only saved the barony but had given its people a future.
"Rae," he said one evening as they stood together overlooking the flourishing fields, "you are a gift to this land. Your mother must be proud."
Rae looked up at him, her eyes shining. "I'm just doing what needs to be done, Father. The people deserve a chance to thrive."
And thrive they did. The barony, once on the brink of ruin, now stood as a beacon of resilience and ingenuity, all thanks to the young princess.